19 to 21

No, that’s not how many writers voted for Jimmy Rollins, it’s,

Baseball... Then and Now

Volume 5, #47, November 26, 2007

News Item: November 27, 1978 – Jimmy Rollins, AKA JRoll, is born in Oakland, California.

Give it a rest. Stop with the whining about the MVP voting. It is, by definition, a subjective measure, and it’s going to stay that way, and the times when the voters of the BBWAA come to an actual consensus are few and far between. Like Frank Robinson in 1966. Orlando Cepeda in 1967. Mike Schmidt in 1980. Ted Williams in 1942. Whoops! Wait a minute. Ted Williams wasn’t a unanimous MVP in 1942. In fact, he didn’t even win the American League MVP in 1942, despite leading the major leagues in all three Triple Crown categories. Well, how about Ted Williams in 1949? Nope. He finished a fraction of a percentage point from his third Triple Crown, but didn’t win that year’s MVP, either. Of course, this year, A-Rod laid rest to any possible MVP controversy with an historic, dominating season… except, he wasn’t the unanimous MVP either. Two voters from the Detroit area had Maggie Ordonez as their number one selection.

Which just goes to prove the point. MVP selections have traditionally been all over the lot. Even if the electorate were to be given some sort of specific marching orders for voting guidelines, i.e., pick the best player on the best team number one (and wouldn’t that be ridiculous?), or pick the league leader in runs created (equally silly, if you think about it) or Win Shares, you probably still wouldn’t get everyone to agree on the “best” MVP unless you have a single player having a totally dominating year, like Robinson in the 1966 AL and A-Rod in the AL this year. Which also just goes to prove the point. The fact is that the MVP voters have been unpredictable in making their selections, and they’re going to stay unpredictable. Such is the nature of the beast. Get over it, people. Sometimes, indeed, the obvious choice wins, like in 1966 and 1980. And sometimes, the obvious choice doesn’t, like in 1942 and 1949. And, most of the time, there really isn’t an obvious choice, because it is a subjective process, no matter what your definition of is is. What the hell, if it’s supposed to be the award for the best player in the league, then just give it to A-Rod and Albert Pujols each year, and be done with it. But, it isn’t.

Looking backwards... the 2006 voters favored big numbers in the NL (Ryan Howard’s 58 home runs) and a second half hot streak in the AL (Justin Morneau – remember him?). In 2001 in the AL, the voters went with Ichiro Suzuki and his .107 Isolated Power and his atrocious .031 Isolated Discipline (translation – he never walked and had very little power), largely because he made the biggest splash in the U.S. by a Japanese native since 1941. In 1998, Mark McGwire set the single season home run record, and Sammy Sosa was the NL MVP. (Yet, in 2003, Bonds broke McGwire’s record and he did win the MVP.) In 1991, the voters ignored several better hitters and chose Terry Pendleton, the NL batting champ and the most visible means of support in the field for the Braves’ worst-to-first run. Kirk Gibson won the 1988 MVP for the Dodgers in a similar vote. And that’s just in the last 20 years. On the other hand, flashy numbers have often carried the day – sometimes at the expense of other worthy candidates. Barry Bonds’ 2004 and 1993 awards over Pujols and Lenny Dykstra come quickly to mind.

And then there was possibly the most controversial MVP award of all (outside of Williams getting shafted twice – although those two instances were cases of his antipathy towards the writers… and vice versa… coming back to haunt him), the 1965 American League MVP… Zolio Versalles. Roundly criticized over the years as the worst MVP choice, ever (even worse than Jeff Burroughs in 1974 and Hank Sauer in 1952), Versalles’ selection gains new significance in light of Jimmy Rollins’ narrow selection as the 2007 NL MVP.

Maybe the reason Versalles’ selection has drawn such fire over the years is because he never had another year anywhere near that good. Or maybe it’s because there were at least two (and maybe four) demonstrably better players on the 1965 Twins… Tony Oliva and Harmon Killebrew, and maybe Mudcat Grant and Earl Battey, too. And that’s without even mentioning Jimmie Hall. Now, let’s quickly dismiss both of those complaints. The first one can be called the “Rule of Joe Hardy.” If the fictional protagonist of “The Year the Yankees Lost the Pennant” had been real, he sure would have won the real MVP, and that would have certainly been his best year. Doesn’t matter what you do before your big year or afterwards, the MVP is an award for a single season. The second complaint actually falls into the same category. Mickey Mantle’s career was worlds better than Roger Maris’, but Maris was arguably the better player (or put up flashy numbers) in 1960 and 1961, and hence he won two MVP awards. There’s also a message there for those who would complain that Rollins isn’t even the best member of the Phillies’ infield. He’s not. Chase Utley is. But, the fact that Utley broke his hand while on his way to the MVP means that Rollins WAS the best member of the Phillies infield in 2007. It’s not a career award, it’s a single season award.

A truism, but one that opens another can of worms. What part of the year, if any, is more important? Should excellence in a half season, a single month, a single week, or even a single game count? The quick answer to that would seem to be, “no, it’s a season-long award.” Very true, but indeed is not that half season, month, week or game part of that season? You bet. If value to the team, impact, if you will, is in some fashion a consideration for the voting for the MVP award, then, sure, those shorter samples within a year are relevant.

This is apparently the argument for Versalles, as made on the www.cooloftheevening.com website. The point being that, by the time August rolled around in 1965, Versalles’ play was creating MVP talk around the American League, and such talk by opposing players and managers must surely have been heard by the sportswriters as well. Now maybe that was because no one in the AL was having a really big year (Oliva won the batting crown at .321, Rocky Colavito the RBI crown with just 108, and Tony Conigliaro hit just 32 home runs to take that title), but it is true that 1965 actually was the Year the Yankees Lost the Pennant, and the Twins stepped into the void. That fact, by itself, was certainly a boost in the MVP voting. (Versalles and his previously-mentioned four teammates all received votes.) And, in some measures, Versalles did run up offensive numbers that the AL hadn’t seen from a shortstop since the heyday of Junior Stephens, some 15 years before. He led the league in total bases, doubles, triples, extra base hits and runs scored while finishing second in hits and third in runs created and steals. And he won the Gold Glove at the most important defensive position – shortstop -- as well. It all added up to a near unanimous vote. That’s right, he missed by just five points… a single first place vote for his teammate Oliva… of being a unanimous MVP.

Of course, there were a few other stats that maybe the MVP voters didn’t see, or ignored. He also led the league in strikeouts with 122 (a shortstop leading the league in Ks?) and, while winning the Gold Glove, he made a whopping 39 errors! Now that’s hard to believe. Without looking it up, it’s easy to speculate that no one else has ever won a Gold Glove while making 39 errors. (In case you’re wondering, his range factor was above the league average, but not shockingly so, 4.59 to 4.38.) Metrics developed later on in the game have also led to questioning of Versalles’ year, since he also had the lowest career Win Shares total of any MVP and his OPS+ wasn’t anywhere near the top five in the league. Here then, is Zolio Versalles’ 1965 season…

A fine year, especially for mid-60s shortstop, but, an MVP year? Maybe Versalles’ MVP award was in recognition of intangibles – factors that don’t show up in the statistical line. You got a problem with that? Is there anything in the current rules that say the voters can’t take intangibles in account? For that matter, was there ever anything in the rules prohibiting assessing intangibles? Probably not, otherwise it would be impossible to explain how Johnny Evers won the 1914 National League MVP award with the Miracle Braves. The fact is, there have been more than a few MVPs who most likely won on intangibles, along with a good year in the field. And that is what cements Jimmy Rollins’ claim as a good choice for the 2007 NL MVP. No whining allowed. The best choice? Don’t be silly, there wasn’t a best choice, and there usually isn’t a best choice, except in years like 1966, 1980 and 1949 (Oops!) But Rollins sure was a good choice. First, here are his numbers which can, in all fairness, be called historic (which, you have to admit, is one pretty good qualification for an MVP)…

Rollins was widely lauded for being the first to attain all sorts of offensive single season numerical combinations, in addition to becoming the first NL shortstop in 34 years to play in (to say nothing of start) every game. (He missed a total of 17 innings all year.) Probably the two most significant combinations were that he became just the fourth player to have 20 doubles, triples, home runs and steals in a season, and he was the first player ever to have 30 doubles, home runs, steals and 20 triples. In case you’re interested, he also became just the third shortstop in the 30-30 Club (home runs and steals) and his 88 extra base hits set a National League record for shortstops. Only A-Rod, with 92, has EVER had more in a season as a short fielder.

Just for fun, compare Rollins’ numbers to Versalles, with the understanding that 1965 was a lot better pitchers’ year than 2007.

Pretty similar, given the difference in offensive production in the two eras, a fact shown by how close their OPS+ figures are. Rollins stole more bases and didn’t strike out as much as Versalles, but otherwise, they are a pretty good match, at least at the plate. Defensively, it’s a little hard to make a case for someone who made 39 errors, Gold Glove or no Gold Glove. As for Rollins’ fielding -- he also won the Gold Glove, but he deserved it… check out the numbers. A .985 fielding percentage (to the league’s .975) and a 4.36 range factor (to the league’s 4.00). And, he made the second fewest number of errors (11) despite his huge total of innings played.

Returning to the offense… in terms of Black Ink, Versalles led in total bases, doubles, triples, extra base hits and runs scored, and Rollins led in games played, at bats (a major league record), triples and runs scored (another National League record for shortstops). And he was second in extra base hits, total bases and hits and fifth in runs created and steals. Yes, he led the league in outs, but, given the amount he played and batted, is that so surprising? If you really want to judge Rollins’ offensive worth, you can subtract his 35 successful steals (41 steals less being caught six times), and turn 25 of his singles into doubles and 10 of his doubles into triples. Ever see anyone with 53 doubles, 30 triples and 30 home runs in a season?

Still, it was most likely the intangibles at four different junctures of 2007 that truly made Rollins the MVP. He ended the month of April leading the National League in home runs, with nine. That got everyone’s attention to start the season. Then, when the Phillies’ initial MVP candidate, Utley, went down with a broken hand in August, Rollins, all 5-7 of him, carried the team on his back for the month (even moving out of his leadoff spot a few times to bat third) while Utley was out. That was no small feat, since Utley had been on his way to both the batting crown and a shot at Earl Webb’s major league record of 67 doubles in a season (in addition to being among the league leaders in about eight other batting categories.) Then, in the final two weeks of the season, when the Phillies were making their historic push for the National League East pennant, Rollins was again the catalyst, and no more so than on the final day of the season. Now, some of you out there will kvetch that a single game shouldn’t have any effect on the MVP vote. Excuse me… but since when was the last game of the year not part of the year? Especially when the Phillies entered that game tied with the Mets for first place, after having come from seven games back with 17 games to play. Yes, that game counted. And Rollins led off the bottom of the first that day by singling (since his final batting average was .296, he, in effect, beat odds of basically three out of 10 that he would get a hit in that at bat), and then stealing second and third before scoring on a sacrifice fly, giving the Phillies a lead they would hold the rest of the game. However, just to make sure, he later tripled in a clinching run (his historic 20th of the year, proving he has a sense of drama as well) in the pennant clincher over the Nationals. Only partially in commemoration of this, the general managers of both of the Phillies’ competitors in the NL East, the Mets and Braves, then proclaimed Rollins to be the league MVP.

And you know what? That wasn’t even the biggest part of Rollins’ MVP resume. That took place back in January, when the Phillies traded for Freddie Garcia (who would go on to win all of one game in 2007) and Rollins proclaimed his team the one to beat in the NL East in 2007. He then went out and, as they say, walked the walk after talking the talk, while being ripped at every chance by New Yorkers, possibly because the Phillies went 12-6 against the Mets, winning the last eight in a row. Rollins hit .346 against the Mets in 2007, with six home runs, 15 RBIs and 15 runs scored. That, my friends, is value, and over the course of the entire year, and that’s why 2007 was rightly one of the years when just the biggest numbers shouldn’t have won the MVP award in the National League, despite Matt Holliday taking both the batting and RBI crowns. Babe Ruth never called his shot (and neither did Zolio Versalles) but Jimmy Rollins, a good choice for the 2007 National League MVP, did.

As promised, we’ll finish off 2007 in style with a review of Norman Macht’s biography of Connie Mack.

-- John Shiffert