2500 MILES FROM CAMDEN
YARDS -- The other day, Cal Ripken Jr. announced his impending
retirement from baseball. Amid well-orchestrated media fanfare, the
Iron Bird announced that his baseball career is over, effective
September 30, 2001.
Timed perfectly to fatally destroy the All
Star hopes of that well-deserving Angel over America Troy Glaus,
Ripken's announcement unloosed an absolute orgy of unadulterated
adulation. The national sports media promptly went into a
butt-kissing frenzy usually reserved for the naked and the dead.
You know the origin of the term "devil's
advocate"? When the Catholic Church is considering someone for
sainthood, the "devil's advocate" is the cardinal
appointed to trash talk the possible saint. While I'm no cardinal, I
am a Cardinals' fan (I love me some Albert Pujols, that's for sure).
Allow me to serve as devil's advocate for the canonization of the
Holy Saint Cal, the patron saint of immobile, but hard-hitting,
middle infielders.
Ripken is a Hall of Famer, isn't he?
I
concede that Ripken is a Hall of Famer. Reluctantly. Over the years,
fans will not remember Ripken for his hitting or defense. He'll be
remembered solely for the fact that he showed up for work every day.
Day. After day. After day. After day. After day.
A commendable trait. Perfect attendance. Worth
a gold star if you work on the loading dock. Something along the
lines of: "Hey, Cal, report to personnel. You're getting some
award for not missing any time." In the entire history of
baseball, there's never been anyone better at showing up for work
than Our Man Cal.
But is he a sure thing first ballot Hall of
Famer?
Definitely. The Streak, combined with the two
MVP Awards, and a ROY, assure that.
Should he be a unanimous first ballot Hall of
Famer?
He's not even the best player who will become
Hall of Fame eligible this season. That honor belongs to the
immortal Rickey Henderson.
Rickey is the player you will tell future
generations of baseball fans about. He was the greatest lead-off
hitter in baseball history. Bar none. A legend who still walks (and
singles and steals) among us. Rickey was the most exciting player of
his generation. On base constantly. The greatest command of the
strike zone in the modern era. Pure magic on the base paths. The
most prolific base stealer in history. And if home runs are your
definition of excitement, Rickey hit for power, too. Most home runs
from the lead-off position in baseball history. Whatever you
considered to be excitement, Rickey brought it on.
I never heard anyone call Ripken
"exciting." He hit for power, playing a position that had
not been considered an offensive position. He drove in a respectable
number of runs. He made very few errors; his fielding percentages
were consistently magnificent. Given the length of time that he
performed at this "very good" level, he's a Hall of Famer.
Probably first ballot. Definitely not the all-time greatest.
Isn't he the greatest shortstop of all time?
No. Maybe you could argue that he was maybe
the greatest "hitting" shortstop of all time, but he
definitely is not even the greatest shortstop of any decade he
played in, let alone the entire history of the game.
To me, shortstop is primarily a defensive
position. Offense is a bonus. It's almost like the pitcher. Mike
Hampton's power hitting is wonderful, but when he's on the mound, he
still better get Luis Gonzalez out when he comes up with men on
base.
There is no doubt as to who is the greatest
shortstop of all time: the one and only Wizard of Oz. Ozzie Smith
made plays at short that no other human being could ever make. Over
his career, he also progressively became a better and better hitter
(just ask Tommy Lasorda about his home run in the 1985 NLCS). In the
1980's, if you could have any shortstop in the majors, you would
have picked Ozzie.
In the 1990's, the choice would have been
equally easy: Omar Vizquel. Another spectacular defensive shortstop,
he made plays that only prime Ozzie could've made. In his best
years, Vizquel was probably slightly better offensively than Ozzie,
but a little weaker on defense (which would make him the second best
defensive shortstop of all time).
How can Cal be the greatest shortstop of all
time, when he was not even the greatest shortstop in either decade
he played.
What about Cal's unbelievable fielding
percentage?
Fielding percentage is useless for judging a
player's defensive abilities. It measures the ability to cleanly
handle balls hit to the player. It does not measure the number of
balls in play he scoops up.
I've seen Ozzie and Omar be called for errors
on balls that no other human could even reach. They would use
superhuman effort to knock the ball down and keep it in the infield,
but not be able to throw the runner out at first. But under the
scoring rules, they'd get charged for an error.
Ripken had no range. Throughout his career, he
showed the mobility of a fossil from the Paleozoic Era. I'm not
saying the guy was Howard Johnson, but he was not Ozzie or Omar
caliber either. When Cal played alongside a great defensive third
baseman (like Craig Worthington) or second baseman (like Robbie
Alomar, or even baby brother Billy), Ripken's defensive limitations
were not much of a problem. But those late '80's teams, managed at
one point by Daddy Ripken, with guys like Jackie Gutierrez, or the
remnants of Rick Burleson, beside him, oh man, it was ugly. Ugly.
Won't you at least concede that he's the
greatest offensive shortstop of all time?
I'll concede that he sustained a very good
level of offensive production over a long period of time.
Some baseball writers are now comparing him
with Honus Wagner. I'm not going to go there. I'm old, but I'm not
that old. Never saw Wagner play, not even on tape. Different era. No
comparison.
Shouldn't he be voted in unanimously because
of the intangibles he brought to the game?
And what would those intangibles be?
Leadership?
Ripken was never a leader. He always remained
aloof and apart from his teammates.
Baseball writers say that when a team is
showing no unity, it's "25 cabs for 25 players." Cal
showed no leadership in the mid to late '90's when the Angelos-owned
O's degenerated into a "26 cabs for 25 players"
disharmony. (The 26th cab would be for Brady's secret date.) He
demanded - and got - the right to stay in a separate hotel. Sounds
almost Bondsian, doesn't it? (And lots of folks probably consider
Barry to be the anti-Cal.)
He led by example, not by words.
As the once proud Orioles franchise
deteriorated in the last few years, Cal's example has not been
enough to save the team, that's for sure.
You want someone who was a leader? Kirby
Puckett, first ballot Hall of Famer. He single-handedly won Game 6
of the 1991 World Series with his words, his glove and his bat. It
was the best display of one player single-handedly willing his team
to victory I have ever seen. You ever see Cal dominate and win an
important game with both great defensive play and clutch hitting? I
haven't.
He saved baseball after the 1994 Strike.
I actually read some baseball writer try to
make that argument. I have two words: Puh. Leeze.
The night he broke Gehrig's record was an
event. But it did not compare with the great McGwire/Sosa home run
showdown in 1998. There was electricity in the air all summer and
fall whenever either were at any ballpark. I'm sorry, but I did not
notice big crowds at all ballparks in which Ripken played in the
months and weeks leading up the breaking of the record. Ripken's
record-breaking was strictly a one-night event.
Didn't he save baseball in Baltimore?
No on that one, too. Larry Lucchino and Bob
Irsay saved baseball in Baltimore, not Cal.
Baltimore was a lousy baseball town in the
'60's and '70's. No one came out to see those Great Earl Weaver
teams, playing in an ugly, inaccessible multi-purpose monstrosity,
where every seat had an obstructed view.
Then, in the middle of the night, Bob Irsay
and the Mayflower moving vans stole Baltimore's beloved Colts away
to the Hoosier Dome. Baltimore rallied behind its baseball team and
finally fell in love with the Orioles. And to reward their newfound
love, team president Larry Lucchino oversaw the design and
construction of the mother of all modern ballparks, Oriole Park at
Camden Yards, saving baseball in Baltimore.
Didn't he have a tremendous influence on the
next generation of shortstops?
Cal gets credit for re-inventing shortstop as
an offensive position. Isn't that a Hall of Fame worthy
accomplishment?
I'm not even going to concede that it's a
positive. I want my shortstops to be glove wizards who don't
embarrass themselves on offense.
A-Rod credits Cal as a major influence. My
question is: how valuable is A-Rod as a shortstop?
Going into this season, I probably would have
said A-Rod was the single most valuable position player in baseball
today. I've changed my mind. Last season, A-Rod was with the Seattle
Mariners. You may recall they had a rather good season. In the
off-season, A-Rod got some headlines signing a contract with the
Texas Rangers. What's happened to those two divisional rivals since
then? The Rangers now trail the A-Rod-free Mariners by an
historically large deficit.
It's not A-Rod's fault. But, I have a hard
time accepting someone as the greatest player in the game when (1)
the team he leaves improves significantly (to the point where they
are on track for one of the greatest records of all time) and (2)
the team he goes to falls apart.
So, A-Rod considers himself to a Ripken-like
shortstop. Is it better to have your shortstop Ripken-like, or
Vizquelian? The Vizquelian (and Venezuelan) Carlos Guillen seems to
be ably filling the 6-slot for the incredible M's.
Can't you say anything good about Ripken?
Yes. The Streak was impressive, especially
considering that he played a physically demanding position
throughout most of it AND he did not cheaply extend it by frequent
pinch hitting or DH'ing. He legitimately won his ROY and the first
of his two MVP trophies, at least. He deserves the Hall of Fame.
It's just that I dissent from the few that he belongs on a team with
the All Time Greats.