Al Oliver came to the league in 1969 as a line-drive hitter and, for eighteen years, consistently smacked the ball for hits.  He had over 2,700 hits in his career, and despite not being a genuine power hitter, he had a plethora of RBI’s.

Oliver’s main gift was hitting for average.  In addition to his 1982 Batting Title, he had ten other seasons where he hit the .300 plateau.  Oliver wasn’t known for hitting home runs (though he did over 200 in his career), but he found the gap often and was perennially among the league leaders in doubles.  As he was a decent clutch hitter and was always in the hunt for Batting Titles, it would have been thought that Al Oliver would have had more support for the Hall of Fame.

That support might have come had Oliver won an MVP (he came close in 1982) or been a better fielder.  He also had a relatively low On Base Percentage, which has been the vogue baseball stat in the past fifteen years.  Regardless, a decade and a half of consistent contact hitting should have been worth more than 4.3 percent in his first year of eligibility.

What more would Thurman Munson have accomplished had he not been killed in a plane crash on August 2, 1979?  We will never know, but prior to his untimely death, Munson’s accomplishments on the diamond were already sizable.

Thurman Munson was a leader on the field, in the clubhouse, and everywhere else in life.  He broke through in the Majors in 1970 and won the coveted Rookie of the Year, cementing himself as a force to be reckoned with in the catcher’s position for the decade.  For a catcher, he hit the ball well and consistently provided a solid Batting Average, and showed moderate power numbers.  Munson was a perennial All-Star and even won the MVP in 1976.  He was known early in his career for his quick release, and he was very difficult to steal from.  In each of his six postseason series, he never batted below .300, thus showing his ability to come through when his team needed him the most.

Had Munson not perished, would he have racked up career milestones that would have made it hard for the Hall to ignore?  It is possible, but Munson did not have a high On Base Percentage, nor was he really more than a singles hitter.  His main asset, though, was his leadership and his ability to make those around him better.  This should trump a few walks and doubles on most days.

Marty Marion won the NL 1944 MVP based primarily on his leadership and fielding skills as opposed to anything he did with his lumber.  His victory is certainly a reminder that there is a lot more to baseball than sexy offensive stats.

Marty Marion was taller than the average Shortstop of his era, but he used that to his advantage.  He was deceptively quick, but he used his large wingspan to gobble up any ground ball that got remotely near him.  He was called the “octopus”, and he would have used those tentacles to grab every Gold Glove Award….if they existed at the time.  Marion usually batted at the bottom of the order, but he was consistent and an excellent bunter.

Marty Marion was not just a defensive wizard; he was a leader whose patience was evident when he became a manager and teacher to young ballplayers.  It is often these traits that are pointed to when pundits and ex-colleagues point to Marty Marion and the Baseball Hall of Fame.

From 1953 to 1960, there were few in the majors who were as good a line drive hitter as Harvey Kuenn.  From that time period, he won the American League Rookie of the Year Award and won a Batting Title.  Considering that during the 50’s he only batted under .300 once, it was easy to see how, even on average Detroit Tigers teams, he could still make eight All-Star teams.

Kuenn led the league in hits four times, and it seemed like he got those hits in every part of the field possible.  In the ’50s, he was the game’s most consistent hitter, with a swing so effortless it looked natural.  These skills would serve him well as a hitting coach and manager later in his career.

As good as Kuenn was, he was largely ineffective after 1963, and with his great batting eye failing, he had little else to contribute, as he was not known for his fielding prowess or his power.  Still, the numbers he put up for Detroit over an eight-year period were good enough to get him a really solid look from the Hall.