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PITCHING WINS: A TICKET TO THE BASEBALL HALL OF FAME?

Index

The 2013 baseball season has seen one pitcher, Andy Pettitte, reach 250 wins, and three others—CC Sabathia, Roy Halladay, and Tim Hudson—reach 200 wins. These are impressive milestones that traditionally have prompted discussion of whether that pitcher deserves induction into the Baseball Hall of Fame. But are pitching wins a reliable indicator of a pitcher's true worth, particularly when it comes to the Hall of Fame?

In the last three decades, the win statistic has been roughed up by sabermetrical analysis, advanced metrics that measure a pitcher's effectiveness by isolating the pitcher's performance from factors that are beyond his control: his team's ability to score runs and his team's fielding behind his pitching. Simply put, a "win" is a collective effort, dependent upon not just a team's pitching but upon its hitting and fielding as well. Yet it is the pitcher—specifically, the "pitcher of record," the pitcher in the game at the time his team took the lead for good—who receives sole credit for the team's win.

Initially, this was not a bad thought: The pitcher does have the single greatest influence of any player by virtue of delivering each and every pitch, the outcomes of which determine the course of the game. As a result, a pitcher's measure of greatness became how many wins he amassed.

Superficially, this seemed to be valid; Walter Johnson, one of the game's greatest pitchers, compiled 417 wins, second all-time, even though he pitched exclusively for the Washington Senators, a chronically terrible team. (The old joke ran, "Washington: First in war, first in peace—and last in the American League.") If Johnson managed to win many games for a team that lost many more games, it must prove that he was a great pitcher—succeeding in spite of his team's lack of support.

However, Johnson also lost 279 games, fourth-most all-time, proving that he was at least human. His winning percentage of .599 is certainly respectable, 120th all-time, but he still lost four games of every ten in which he was awarded a decision. In other words, Walter Johnson—first all-time in shutouts (110), fifth all-time in ERA+ (147), twelfth all-time in ERA (2.17)—was as dependent as any pitcher upon his teammates as to whether he would win or lose a game. (ERA+ is an indexed measurement of earned run average, league- and park-adjusted, with 100 indicating a league-average pitcher.)

Wins, though, became the coin of the realm for measuring a pitcher's effectiveness, and for pitchers who reached the charmed plateau of 300 career wins, they were almost automatically inducted into the Hall of Fame.

The Elite Circle: 300 Career Wins

Historically, reaching 300 career wins was a guaranteed ticket to the Hall of Fame, and for sound reason: In a century and a half of professional baseball, only 24 men have won as many as 300 games; five of those pitched exclusively in the 19th century, while two, Kid Nichols and Cy Young, straddled the 19th and 20th centuries. Of the 21 men with at least 300 victories who were or are currently eligible for the Hall, 20 have been inducted. Roger Clemens, with 354 wins, was not elected to the Hall this year, his first year of eligibility, and it is surely only his notoriety as a poster boy for performance-enhancing drugs (PEDs) that kept voters from electing him.

Of the three whose eligibility is fast becoming due—Tom Glavine, Randy Johnson, and Greg Maddux—all are practically locks for the Hall. I qualify this with "practically" because I have written at length on this site about the other problem, apart from PEDs, impacting Hall of Fame voting: the logjam of qualified candidates. (Please note that PEDs have never been associated with Glavine, Johnson, or Maddux.) And while this logjam might mean that Glavine will not be a first-ballot choice—he was an excellent but not dominant pitcher—both Johnson and especially Maddux are among the finest hurlers this game has ever seen, and voting them in is a mere formality; their 300-plus wins are almost gilding the lily.

Although 300 wins has proved to be a golden ticket to the Hall, at least one 20th-century pitcher who reached this charmed circle was not an elite pitcher. (It is harder to evaluate 19th-century pitchers as the quality of play and indeed the structure of the game were markedly different from the "modern" game generally regarded to have begun in 1901.)

Early "Gus" Wynn struggled to reach 300 wins; he had 299 career wins at the end of his penultimate 1962 season (finishing with 7–15 record, a .318 winning percentage) and returned in 1963 to try to reach the charmed circle, eventually notching that 300th win in the fourth of his five starts that season; he then retired. But Wynn's career record of 300–244 (.551) and 3.54 ERA, which translated to an ERA+ of 107, is not that of an elite pitcher. He was just above league-average, which is not an insult but neither is it a Hall of Fame career. Perhaps even voters from the Baseball Writers Association of America (BBWAA) recognized this because Wynn was not elected to the Hall until his fourth year on the ballot—and at the time of his election, only 13 other men had reached as many as 300 wins.

Yet the scarcity of 300 wins retains its cachet—even more so as it appears that it could be a very long time before another pitcher reaches 300 wins. The nature of pitching has changed dramatically since the 1980s: Rarely does the starting pitcher pitch the entire game, as had been the custom since the beginning of professional baseball. Now the starter pitches the team into the middle innings, at which point a series of relief pitchers takes over, certainly if the starter was struggling but also if the starter was not. This means a greater possibility that the starter will not finish the game as the pitcher of record—should the opposing team tie or surpass his team, he would not be in line to receive the win. (Conversely, though, should his team be losing when he is taken out, and his team comes back to tie or surpass the opposing team, he would not get the loss.)

Not only, then, are there fewer opportunities for a starting pitcher to earn a win, but the rule of awarding the win to the pitcher of record, which is simply the pitcher in the game for the team that held or had taken the lead for the remainder of the game, meant that the "win" could go to a pitcher who had pitched only to a few batters, for perhaps an inning or two. Did that pitcher really "win" that game? Or was that pitcher merely the "pitcher of record" when his team scored runs that put them in the lead for good? This underscores the collective effort behind the win, and how inaccurate it is to attribute the win (or loss) solely to one player, the pitcher of record.

This had been a major consideration in the re-evaluation of the win as a critical determinant of a pitcher's overall effectiveness. Yet change comes with inertia—the win has always been the way pitching effectiveness has been evaluated, and change to that way of thinking engenders resistance to that change. Thus, wins are still regarded as a critical evaluation factor, with expectations adjusted accordingly: If it is harder for a pitcher to reach 300 wins, then 250 wins, or even 200 wins, becomes "the new 300." Pitchers reaching those adjusted milestones get the same consideration for the Hall that pitchers who had reached 300 wins had received.

The Changing Perception of the Win

Or do they? Wins might remain a legacy consideration of effectiveness, but understanding of their importance, their primacy, is changing.

In 2011, San Francisco Giants pitcher Tim Lincecum posted a losing record: 13 wins but 14 losses. Yet "the Freak" finished sixth in National League Cy Young voting. Why? Because it was the quality of his pitching, not the eventual outcome expressed in wins or losses, that marked him as an effective pitcher. Of Lincecum's 33 starts in 2011, 23 of them, or 70 percent, were "quality starts," starts in which he pitched at least six innings and gave up three or fewer earned runs. Indeed, the right-hander's ERA was 2.74, fifth-best in the NL that season; that translated into an impressive ERA+ of 127. However, the Giants gave him run support that season of 2.8 runs per game, 2.7 runs in the innings in which Lincecum actually pitched; the league average was 4.5 runs per game. Lincecum posted seven "tough losses," losses in which he pitched a quality start but lost anyway. What's the takeaway? Lincecum did his job—he pitched well but his team could not support him offensively. Had those seven tough losses been wins, Lincecum is a 20-game winner, the traditional single-season benchmark of pitching excellence.

Even more instructive is the case of Felix Hernandez. In 2010, "King Felix" won the American League Cy Young Award with the Seattle Mariners despite a middling win-loss record of 13–12. But qualitatively the right-hander posted a 2.27 ERA, a sterling 174 ERA+, and 7.12 wins above replacement (WAR; Baseball Reference version); Hernandez's ERA and WAR led the League while his ERA+ was second. Like Lincecum, Hernandez had to deal with an anemic offense: His Mariners produced 3.1 runs in support of him—the League average was 4.6—while he endured 8 tough losses although an outstanding 30 of his 34 starts were quality starts. (It is possible, though, that Hernandez's 2010 Cy Young was partly compensation for his runner-up status the previous year when Zack Greinke won the award; in 2009, Hernandez posted a record of 19–5 (.792) with a 2.49 ERA typical of a more "traditional" Cy Young winner.)

But while 300 wins might still project its charm as advanced analyses now evaluate pitchers on a more qualitative basis, win totals below that storied plateau have not always been such a definitive measure of a pitcher's Hall of Fame worth. Indeed, within the range of 200 to 299 wins, Hall voting has been hit-or-miss. This combined with qualitative analyses could have an impact—both positively and negatively—on prospective pitching candidates for the Hall of Fame, even if 250 wins, or even 200 wins, might be regarded as "the new 300."

Wins and the Hall of Fame: The Quantitative Approach

If 300 wins is a near-automatic ticket to Cooperstown, then the range of wins between 200 and 299 is a crapshoot. Certainly this range of wins has produced more than 30 Hall of Fame pitchers—some who might not be deserving of the honor—but as we will see, the win totals for pitchers in this range can be deceptive. This can be deceptive as to inflate a pitcher's worth, or deceptive as to disguise a pitcher's worth. It will take qualitative analysis to strip away the deceptive allure—or lack thereof—of a given pitcher's win total. Wins cannot tell the story alone.

The following table lists, in descending order, the 49 pitchers of the 20th and 21st centuries who have between 200 and 299 wins and who are not already in the Hall of Fame. I have omitted pitchers who pitched exclusively in the 19th century; as noted above, they played a nascent game that does not correlate to the modern game of baseball. (Statistics for still-active pitchers are current through August 4, 2013.)

Non-Hall of Fame Pitchers Ranked by Wins, in Descending Order

Pitcher

Years

Wins

Losses

Pct.

ERA

ERA+

ERA–

bWAR

fWAR

John, Tommy

1963-1989

288

231

0.555

3.34

111

90

62.3

75.2

Kaat, Jim

1959-1983

283

237

0.544

3.45

108

93

45.3

69.4

Mussina, Mike

1991-2008

270

153

0.638

3.68

123

82

82.7

82.3

Moyer, Jamie

1986-2012

269

209

0.563

4.25

103

97

50.2

47.5

Morris, Jack

1977-1994

254

186

0.577

3.90

105

95

43.8

52.7

Pettitte, Andy

1995-

252

150

0.627

3.87

116

86

58.9

66.8

Quinn, Jack

1909-1933

247

218

0.531

3.29

114

89

59.0

63.7

Martinez, Dennis

1976-1998

245

193

0.559

3.70

106

95

49.5

45.7

Powell, Jack

1897-1912

245

254

0.491

2.97

106

96

56.0

46.3

Tanana, Frank

1973-1993

240

236

0.504

3.66

106

94

57.5

55.8



Wells, David

1987-2007

239

157

0.604

4.13

108

93

53.5

58.0

Tiant, Luis

1964-1982

229

172

0.571

3.30

114

87

66.1

54.0

Jones, Sad Sam

1914-1935

229

217

0.513

3.84

104

97

40.4

46.0

Mullin, George

1902-1915

228

196

0.538

2.82

101

99

34.3

38.0

Dauss, Hooks

1912-1926

223

182

0.551

3.30

102

98

35.2

39.9

Harder, Mel

1928-1947

223

186

0.545

3.80

113

90

47.9

54.5

Derringer, Paul

1931-1945

223

212

0.513

3.46

108

93

39.0

60.7

Koosman, Jerry

1967-1985

222

209

0.515

3.36

110

91

57.1

66.0

Niekro, Joe

1967-1988

221

204

0.520

3.59

98

102

28.7

26.9

Reuss, Jerry

1969-1990

220

191

0.535

3.64

100

100

33.1

52.0



Martinez, Pedro

1992-2009

219

100

0.687

2.93

154

67

86.0

86.8

Rogers, Kenny

1989-2008

219

156

0.584

4.27

107

93

51.1

47.2

Whitehill, Earl

1923-1939

218

185

0.541

4.36

100

99

36.3

49.2

Fitzsimmons, Freddie

1925-1943

217

146

0.598

3.51

112

90

33.5

32.0

Lolich, Mickey

1963-1979

217

191

0.532

3.44

104

98

48.8

61.5

Schilling, Curt

1988-2007

216

146

0.597

3.46

127

80

80.7

83.5

Cooper, Wilbur

1912-1926

216

178

0.548

2.89

116

86

49.0

46.9

Hough, Charlie

1970-1994

216

216

0.500

3.75

106

95

39.6

24.5

Perry, Jim

1959-1975

215

174

0.553

3.45

106

94

38.7

32.2

Reuschel, Rick

1972-1991

214

191

0.528

3.37

114

88

68.2

69.4



Smoltz, John

1988-2009

213

155

0.579

3.33

125

81

66.5

78.4

Brown, Kevin

1986-2005

211

144

0.594

3.28

127

78

68.5

73.8

Welch, Bob

1978-1994

211

146

0.591

3.47

106

94

43.5

36.1

Pierce, Billy

1945-1964

211

169

0.555

3.27

119

84

53.1

54.7

Newsome, Bobo

1929-1953

211

222

0.487

3.98

107

95

51.7

62.2

Cicotte, Eddie

1905-1920

209

148

0.585

2.38

123

82

56.9

49.2

Blue, Vida

1969-1986

209

161

0.565

3.27

108

92

45.0

45.3

Pappas, Milt

1957-1973

209

164

0.560

3.40

110

92

46.8

46.3

Mays, Carl

1915-1929

208

126

0.623

2.92

119

83

42.5

39.4

Hershiser, Orel

1983-2000

204

150

0.576

3.48

112

89

51.7

45.2



Orth, Al

1895-1909

204

189

0.519

3.37

100

101

44.1

43.8

Burdette, Lew

1950-1967

203

144

0.585

3.66

99

101

25.8

31.1

Halladay, Roy

1998-

201

104

0.659

3.37

131

76

65.5

67.9

Hudson, Tim

1999-

205

111

0.649

3.44

124

80

55.5

47.8

Root, Charlie

1923-1941

201

160

0.557

3.59

111

90

38.0

36.4

Sabathia, CC

2001-

200

112

0.641

3.57

122

82

54.0

60.5

Uhle, George

1919-1936

200

166

0.546

3.99

106

94

44.4

49.2

Finley, Chuck

1986-2002

200

173

0.536

3.85

115

86

58.5

56.7

Wakefield, Tim

1992-2011

200

180

0.526

4.41

105

95

34.5

38.9



ERA+: Career ERA, league- and park-adjusted, as calculated by Baseball Reference. Positively indexed to 100, with a 100 ERA+ indicating a league-average pitcher, and values above 100 indicating the degrees better a pitcher is than a league-average pitcher.

ERA-: Career ERA, league- and park-adjusted, as calculated by FanGraphs. Negatively indexed to 100, with a 100 ERA- indicating a league-average pitcher, and values below 100 indicating the degrees better a pitcher is than a league-average pitcher.

bWAR: Career Wins Above Replacement as calculated by Baseball Reference.

fWAR: Career Wins Above Replacement as calculated by FanGraphs.

Based on this list, if 250 wins are the mark of a Hall of Famer, then Tommy John and Jim Kaat should have been inducted years ago; currently eligible Jack Morris, who traditionalists claim is being snubbed each year he is not elected, really should have been elected already; recently retired Mike Mussina and Jamie Moyer should be shoo-ins when they become eligible; and Andy Pettitte, who reached 250 wins on June 8 of this year, is only adding to his Hall of Fame résumé with each win he notches before he retires.

For wins between 200 and 249, it might be harder (and not necessarily Mel) to determine who is a Hall of Fame pitcher, assuming, of course, that neat plateaus such as 300, 250, and 200 can segregate candidates into easily evaluated groups of candidates.

But wins alone cannot tell the entire story. Bert Blyleven, who was eventually elected to the Hall in his penultimate year on the ballot, has 287 career wins, just one less than Tommy John, with both less than 15 wins shy of 300. (Perhaps 300 is a harsh mistress: 19th-century pitcher Bobby Mathews finished just three wins shy of 300 and has yet to be inducted by any Veterans Committee.) It took a concerted sabermetric campaign to convince voters that Blyleven is a qualified Hall of Famer—and unlike many on this list, he has two traditional rankings that place him among the elite: Blyleven is fifth in career strikeouts with 3701, and ninth in career shutouts with 60. This is after a career pitching for a lot of mediocre teams (although he did win two World Series, in 1979 with the Pittsburgh Pirates and in 1987 with the Minnesota Twins).

So what problems did voters have with Blyleven? Would they have voted him in had he somehow won 13 more games to get him to the vaunted 300? Considering that Blyleven had 99 career "tough losses" (losses in which he lost despite having a quality start of six innings or more with three or fewer earned runs) against 35 career "cheap wins" (wins in which he pitched fewer than six innings or gave up more than three earned runs, yet still won the game), he certainly had those 13 wins scattered across his playing career—had his teammates helped to contribute to that potential win. Blyleven also had 47 career "wins lost," meaning that he was in line for a win at the time he left a game, but his bullpen lost that lead. (It should be noted that he also had 58 career "losses saved," or games in which he stood to lose when he left, but his team later tied or took the lead, although this would not affect the number of additional wins he might have earned.)

This points out the problem of using wins as a critical determinant of Hall of Fame worthiness: A win is the product of a collective effort, and much of that effort is out of the hands of the pitcher. His team needs to score more runs than he and his fielders give up (and even a pitcher hitting in a lineup is still only one of nine hitters who can potentially create runs). Both Robin Roberts (286 wins) and Ferguson Jenkins (284 wins) were elected to the Hall as players with qualitative statistics comparable to Blyleven's, although you have to wonder whether Gus Wynn would have been elected had he not made it to that neat, if arbitrary, 300-win plateau. (I don't think he should have been elected in any case, but that is another issue.)

No, wins alone cannot tell the story of worthiness for the Hall of Fame. There are too many factors beyond a pitcher's control that determine whether he wins, loses, or gets a no-decision. What is needed is a qualitative approach to the pitcher's performance, to which we turn now.


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Last modified on Thursday, 22 March 2018 01:44

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