Did anyone else catch the Jose Canseco interview on 60 Minutes, this past Sunday? At one point, he told interviewer Mike Wallace that he injected former teammate Mark McGwire with steroids on “one or two” occasions.
In his book, he says he “frequently” injected McGwire. Wallace briefly grilled Canseco about this obvious disconnect, but dropped the line of questioning a few moments later.
Towards the end of the interview, the second part of which will air on 60 Minutes II this Wednesday, Canseco was asked which members of the Texas Rangers he gave steroids to. He quickly mentioned Rafael Palmeiro, paused for a moment before naming Juan Gonzalez, then completely blanked out for several seconds, before finally finding the name “Ivan Rodriguez”.
Now, I know that Canseco didn’t “write” his book, but c’mon…These are ostensibly accusations that Jose is making based on his own personal experiences and dealings with these guys and he can’t remember who he’s implicating?
Makes you wonder what else Canseco wrote that he doesn’t remember. Wasn’t it Charles Barkley who once claimed he was taken out of context in his own autobiography?
Now, the list continues with Part Six and we begin with …
Oh, what might have been. By the age of 27, The Cobra appeared to be on the path to superstardom that another Pirates right fielder had followed 15 years earlier. Despite playing for an additional 13 seasons, after his career year in 1978, Parker would never again come close to his single year of greatness.
He won the NL MVP that year with a line of .334 BA 30 HR and 117 RBI. These were Triple Crown worthy numbers that placed in 1st, 3rd and 2nd in the league, respectively. His .979 OPS (on-base plus slugging pct.) led the NL by a decent margin, as well. But, Parker wasn’t just a one-year wonder. After making his debut in 1973, the season following Roberto Clemente’s tragic death just months earlier, he established himself as the best all-around player on the perennially contending Pittsburgh teams of the late ’70s.
In addition to his impressive power numbers, Parker was an accomplished basestealer and an amazing outfielder, with one of the best arms of his era. In 1979, he rapped 10 hits in 29 at-bats to help the “We Are Family” Pirates win the World Series. Sadly, it was all downhill after that.
He was a key figure in the drug scandals that ravaged the game in the early ’80s and, after slugging .526 in ’79, he’d only surpass the .500 SLG line once more in his final 11 seasons. Parker’s career line is eerily indicative of opportunity lost as his .290 career average and 2,700+ hits are undercut by his .339 career OBP and .471 SLG.
Parker lost nearly a full season, between 1981-82, to injuries, personal demons and the infamous work stoppage. Even if he played those games, they probably wouldn’t have helped his case too much, but it would’ve made the call just a little more difficult. Verdict: Out
The most prolific power hitting catcher in the history of the game, Piazza is one of those players whose one glaring negative has inexplicably overshadowed all the overwhelming positives. So, is it possible that he could be considered…underrated?
First, the bad…Piazza is not a good defensive catcher. Wait, that’s not exactly true…he just has a really bad throwing arm. But, that’s just one way to measure a catcher. How’s his game calling? How do pitchers like throwing to him? They must like him, because in every season, on every team where Piazza has logged the most starts behind the plate, his pitching staffs have finished fifth or better in team ERA in all but one season.
But, Piazza’s claim to Fame is his stick. In six of his 13 seasons, he’s slugged .570 or more. He has a career .315 BA and .385 OBP…numbers that are head and shoulders above the league average during his tenure. Piazza is an 11-time All Star with seven top ten finishes in the MVP race and probably deserved the award in at least two separate seasons. Critics are quick to point out that he’s never led the league in either home runs or RBI, but 378 career bombs and nearly 1,200 run batted in are even more impressive when you consider the fact that Piazza has spent his entire career in two of the toughest hitters parks in the game.
Not even gay rumors or Art Howe’s inherent incompetence could derail Piazza’s production. He’s only the greatest catcher in the history of two different teams and, quite possibly, the least appreciated great player of this era. Verdict: In
Believe it or not, some of the greatest players in Cincinnati Reds’ history didn’t play on The Big Red Machine teams of the ’70s. During the early-to-mid ’60s, Pinson played a solid center field and hit like he was going to be a Queen City keeper for years to come.
Pinson posted seven seasons amongst the top ten in hits during his Redlegs stay, including four years with 200 or more. In eight of his first nine full campaigns, he reached double-digits in stolen bases, passing 20 several times. There are his seven seasons with 96 or more runs scored and he places 54th all time in doubles, right behind Hall of Famer Lou Brock and in front of future HOF candidate Jeff Bagwell.
Unfortunately, Pinson’s offensive skills evaporated in his final Cincy season in 1968. His OBP dipped to a career-low .311, while his SLG fell to .383…nearly 100 points off his career mark to that point. He was traded to St. Louis in the offseason for Bobby Tolan and settled in for seven more subpar seasons with four different clubs, before retiring at the age of 36.
Vada’s 2,757 career hits was built mostly on his first ten years in Cincinnati. It’s all the more impressive when you consider how awful he was at the end of his career, posting OBPs around .280. There’s really not much more on his résumé to warrant further discussion. Sometimes, hitters just stop hitting. Verdict: Out.
The funny thing about baseball dynasties is that they can blind fans to individual performances. Just because the team is consistently successful, doesn’t mean that every player is Cooperstown-bound.
Jorge Posada has been in the right place at the right time. That’s not to take anything away from his accomplishments and triumphs, both on and off the diamond, but Posada has one big strike against him that was no fault of his own: he was too late. His full-time career didn’t begin until 1998, at the age of 26! Guess the Yanks loved them some Joe Girardi and his unique brand of no power and no patience. By contrast, Johnny Bench began at 19, Carlton Fisk at 21 and Mike Piazza at 23.
Posada has done his best to make up for lost time, putting up a career line of .270 BA, .379 OBP and .475 SLG. But, if you look a little deeper you’ll see that he’s only amassed 910 career hits and 156 career HRs. These would be decent numbers for most catchers after 10 seasons, but Posada will turn 33 next year and doesn’t have nearly enough good years left to improve upon his one great offensive year (2003) or add to the victorious image of him jumping into the arms of his pitcher at the end of another World Series triumph.
Speaking of which, Posada is just a .229 hitter in over 80 playoff games, so maybe it’s not his postseason image that we should be remembering, either. Verdict: Out
OK, just so we’re clear…in Cleveland, Ramirez was a malingering malcontent whose greatness on the field was often compromised by his lack of hustle and poor fundamentals. In Boston, Manny is a beloved basher whose lack of hustle and fundamentals are endearing character traits. Got it?
An eight-time All Star, Ramirez is currently ninth all time in OPS at 1.010. But, since there’s a few more paragraphs to fill, we should probably go on. At the age of 32, after 12 seasons, he has 1,760 career hits and 390 home runs. In five of the last seven years, he’s slugged .600 or better and in the other two years, he put up percentages of .599 and .587. Do we have to go on? Only once, in ten full seasons, has he failed to reach 100 RBI. And, he has 18 home runs in 78 postseason games.
Admittedly, he’ll need to play a few more years before he approaches any of the career leaders in the more attractive categories to Hall of Fame voters. But, it’s hard to imagine Ramirez fall off any time soon. He’s been equal parts healthy and consistent for most of his career, plus his 2004 World Series MVP trophy should silence, once and for all, the deserved dissing of his non-existent work ethic and his incendiary interaction with the media (before last year).
Don’t try to play the “modern ball” argument here. Ramirez’s OPS is more than 200 points higher than the league average during his career. The 2004 Red Sox have exactly one future Hall of Famer…and you’re looking at him. Verdict: In
Am I the only one who remembers an early ’90s Topps card featuring a smiling Chicago White Sox player sitting on a slab of granite, with the name Rock Raines printed on the bottom? Hey, it was better than “HoJo”, I guess.
Raines was a great player in the ’80s. You probably didn’t know that because he played in Montreal…and he was the most prominent victim of the owners’ collusion activities prior to the 1987 season…and because Rickey Henderson played during the exact same era. During the decade, Raines’ OBP hovered around .400 every year, he passed the 100-runs threshold four times and finished in the top four in stolen bases every season, but one.
Traded to the Chi Sox prior to 1991, he manned the leadoff spot during their south side revival and continued to put up productive numbers, despite a slight decline in skill. Raines put up two more 100 run seasons and still kept his OBP in the .370 range, although injuries sapped him of his once-great speed. By the end of the ’90s, he was exceptional in a reduced role with the Yankees, putting up OBPs of .383, .403 and .395.
A bout with lupus nearly ended his career with Oakland in 1999, but Raines returned (in more ways than one) and played with the Expos, two other teams and his son, before retiring in 2002. Wow…check those numbers again. While not as great as long as Rickey was, it’s hard to ignore 2,600 hits and 808 stolen bases.
But, I just can’t do it. Verdict: Out.
Which image of Cal Ripken will you remember the most? In 1995, Chris Berman breathlessly called Cal’s 2,131st consecutive game played in an event that supposedly “saved” baseball (until McGwire and Sosa saved it again in 1998). On the other hand, “The Streak” became bigger than the team and Ripken seemed to celebrate in his own self-indulgence.
First things first…Cal Ripken had an exceptional career. His 431 home runs helped usher in the era of the power-hitting middle infielder. With 3,184 hits, 1,695 RBI and 1,647 runs scored in 21 seasons, Ripken managed to match productivity with his longevity. And, then there’s the whole consecutive games played thing. 2,632 consecutive games played, to be exact…spanning every season from 1982-1998.
Of course, not every season was a great one. In fact, one could argue that despite Cal’s credentials, he only had three great seasons. Although, in two of them (1983 and 1991) he stole the American League MVP award from more deserving candidates (Eddie Murray and Frank Thomas). But, that’s an individual accolade…and we were often told that Ripken would always put the team first when it came to “The Streak”.
But, that didn’t include a week in 1996, when Cal’s declining defense was moved to third base and Manny Alexander was shoehorned into shortstop. The new guy struggled, Ripken pouted and, famously, he refused to publicly support Alexander or shield him from the barrage of boos.
Much like “The Streak” and its eventual end, Ripken only changed, when he wanted it. This has nothing to do with his HOF credentials, which are impeccable, it’s just not all that likely that much of the real Cal Ripken will be on display in 2007. Verdict: In
Trust me…the whole back-to-back disingenuous divas of the diamond thing is a merely a coincidence and nothing more. But, much like Cal, A-Rod’s greatness cannot be denied. This time, all the hype is right.
You probably already knew that Rodriguez made his debut in 1994 at the age of 18, but did you know the next youngest player was 21? In 1996, at the age of 20, A-Rod hit .358/.414/.631 and was robbed of the MVP award by Juan Gonzalez. Two years later, Rodriguez became the third member of the 40-40 club. In 2001, he became forever synonymous with $252 million, but single-handedly held up his end of the bargain with OPSs of 1.021, 1.015 and .995 in the following three seasons.
To the surprise of no one, his numbers took a hit when he moved from the hitter’s haven of Arlington to the more neutral/pitcher friendly confines of Yankee Stadium in 2004. What was surprising was that A-Rod’s already unpopular image could sink even lower. His ALCS cheapshot was the defining image of the Great New York Collapse to the Red Sox. But, despite the grandstanding and self-promotion of arch nemesis Curt Schilling, the whole thing will be forgotten with the passing of time.
Speaking of which, time…as they say…is on his side. Yes, it is. At the age of 28, he’s about a season and a half south of 2,000 hits. He’s scored 1,121 runs and has 381 home runs. A-Rod has shined in games that don’t count (named to eight All Star Games) and games that do (.583 SLG in the postseason). Bonds should be ceding his current king’s crown any day now. Verdict: In…and I mean right now.
At the All Star Game in 1994, Pudge Rodriguez’s poor positioning and flat footwork allowed Tony Gwynn to slide a chubby bunion across home plate with the winning run. At the time, it gave nationally televised credence to the whispers surrounding his attitude.
That was also the year that Pudge arrived offensively, setting then-career highs in both OBP and SLG. From that point on, he was the gold standard for backstops in the American League. He’s been a year-in-year-out .300 hitter ever since, with decent on-base numbers and consistently improving power. Five years after his ’94 embarrassment, he was named league MVP (over the more deserving Manny Ramirez), proving that even crusty old sportswriters can come around to true talent.
Now, back to his defense. Rodriguez won his first few Gold Gloves on his cannon-like throwing arm, alone. Every other aspect of his defensive game was lacking until he finally wanted to learn. After a few years, he was blocking balls in the dirt and covering foul territory well enough to make his arm seem like a bonus.
Ivan’s coming out party was the 2003 postseason with the Marlins. He slugged around .600 in the first two rounds and helped Florida upset the Yanks in six. But, the picture that’ll endure is his perfect positioning and fantastic footwork on the play at the plate that eliminated the Giants…and created another one. Verdict: In
On February 4, 1991, about 10 months before the annual Hall of Fame vote, a new rule was ushered in. In short, it read that no one on baseball’s suspended list could be eligible for the Hall of Fame. It was a transparent attempt to keep Rose out of Cooperstown, so let’s pretend it never happened.
Just ask Pete and he’ll tell you that he’s the Hit King. And, you can probably pat yourself on the back when 4,256 career hits is your calling card. In 24 seasons, he was named to 17 All Star Games. He’s first in all time games played and at bats, second in career doubles (746), fifth in runs scored (2,165) and Rose reached base nearly 6,000 times.
Of course, as a player, Rose’s image and reputation oftentimes outsized reality.
He only averaged about seven home runs and 60 RBI per year. The former isn’t all that shocking, since he was a top of the order hitter in a pitcher’s era. But, the latter is a surprise considering some of the great offensive teams he played on. It’s probably a pretty clear indication of the power of singles…or lack thereof. Rose’s .512 SLG in 1969 was the only time he’d ever pass the .500 mark.
Rose was done by his 40th birthday, but played another five seasons in search of the all-time hits record. It was a selfish act, but one that was glorified in the press, because Rose covered up his declining skills by keeping his uniform dirty and “hustling”.
In 1989, Rose, since retired, was managing the Cincinnati Reds. He was suspended for betting on baseball and, it was revealed, for betting in games that involved his own team. Rose initially denied the allegations, but still signed off on a “lifetime” ban, with reinstatement possible after one year.
He remains on the outside looking in and, based on the stain he left on the game’s integrity, is just where he should be. Verdict: Out
Check back for Part Seven of the Hall of Fame 100. Is Frank Thomas a better call than Sammy Sosa? Plus, Ron Santo, Gary Sheffield, Darryl Strawberry n’ more! Get at me on AOL or Yahoo IM: ajcameron13
