Anyway, I’ve only posted once about the ongoing steroids saga, providing links to what I consider the best available reflections on the steroids era. Nerdicus Finch has also posted once. Basically, for good or bad, I believe that I’m beyond shock in terms of “who did” and “who didn’t.” And after the congressional hearings, only the most hard-core and/or delusional Big Mac fans could have still been shocked by today’s statement. If I had a vote for the Hall-of-Fame, I would have voted for McGwire, as well as the other “no brainers” like Clemens, Bonds (when they become eligible), et al.

So I was interested in what Mr. McGwire had to say, but while reading his statement, one segment stuck out:

“I wish I had never touched steroids. It was foolish and it was a mistake. I truly apologize. Looking back, I wish I had never played during the steroid era.”

Mr. McGwire went on to state that he took these drugs for health reasons–that he believed they were helping him prevent and return from injury. He seemed to suggest that no steroids could help him hit more home runs, that home run hitting comes from genetics. Lets throw out the analysis of the steroid era statistics as a whole and take these claims at face value. If this is true, why would Mr. McGwire wish that he hadn’t played when he did? He made more money than he would have in any other era. If the steroids helped him heal, and nothing else, then he hit more home runs just by staying on the field than he would have in any other era. And while it doesn’t make it cheating right, a LOT of other people were doing it.

Mr. McGwire may be sincerely sorry. Like Tony LaRussa said, “the one thing he did not do is lie,” so he’s got that going for him. Which is nice. But I find myself agreeing with Rob Neyer’s excellent post from this afternoon:

I just wish that players like McGwire didn’t feel compelled to apologize, when we know that many of them would do exactly the same thing again, if they were in the same position. Most of them — and I don’t mean this as an insult — are sorry about getting caught, but not sorry about doing what they had to do (or thought they had to do) to get healthy or gain a competitive edge.

As THE major story of about fifteen years of baseball, the steroid era needs to be mentioned in the Hall of Fame. Maybe it puts some records out of reach…but hitters were on steroids. Pitchers were on steroids. Was your favorite player on steroids? Chances are probably the same as rolling a die… By condemning only the players who have been caught or admitted it, we give countless others a free pass. The only players who should be saying, “Looking back, I wish I had never played during the steroid era” are the ones who remained clean.

I’ve said it before, and Bill Parcells said it before me, but sometimes you are what you are.

The steroids era is what it is.

What do other nerd card appreciators think?

Anyway, here’s the nerdiest card from a hall-of-famer that I could find through a very quick google image search.

Click the stars to vote: Note: There is a rating embedded within this post, please visit this post to rate it.

Thanks to Night Owl Cards for this image.

Yes: Bert Blyleven, Tim Raines, Roberto Alomar, Barry Larkin, Mark McGwire, Alan Trammell, Edgar Martinez

Close, but no: Fred McGriff, Dale Murphy, Andre Dawson, Lee Smith

Not as close as you’d think: Jack Morris, Don Mattingly, Dave Parker

Closer than you’d think: Ellis Burks, Andres Galarraga

From the back of the card: “He used to be the ball maker for his baseball team as a boy, but used to lose most of the balls by hitting home runs.”

Known as “The Kentucky Colonel,” Earle Combs (Goudey incorrectly spells his first name “Earl” – such errors were common in old-timey baseball cards and are not considered error cards) is the first Hall of Famer card that I have acquired from the 1933 Goudey set. He really shouldn’t be in the HOF, though. But that’s not a knock on Combs, who was an excellent player over 12 seasons with the New York Yankees.

As the Yankees center fielder from 1924-1935, Combs compiled a career line of .325/.397/.462, which equates to a career OPS+ of 126. These are great numbers, but not really HOF-worthy, in my opinion, especially when compiled over less than 150o career games. He was elected to the HOF in 1970 by the Veteran’s Committee, which is notorious for having elected many very good, but not great, players from the pre-war era.

Over his career, Combs played in four World Series, of which the Yankees won three; Combs hit .350/.444/.450 in 16 career World Series games.

At age 28, Combs batted leadoff and played center field for the famous “Murderer’s Row” 1927 Yankees team that went 110-44 and swept the Pittsburgh Pirates in the World Series. That season, he batted .356, led the league with 231 hits and scored 137 runs. That tends to happen when Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig are batting behind you.

He retired at age 36 after suffering a near-death injury crashing into the outfield wall in 1934, in which he fractured his skull. His 1935 attempted comeback season was cut short by another injury and he retired, paving the way for Joe DiMaggio, who would take over center field duties in 1936. He remained a coach in the major leagues for the next 18 years.

From the back of the card: “Although he doesn’t hit .300 very often, he gets a lot of hits.”

Actually, Hughie Critz only hit .300 or better once, in his 1924 rookie season with the Cincinnati Reds, when he hit .322 in 102 games. That was also the only season in which he posted an OPS+ over 100. It was all downhill from there. Critz appeared in almost 1500 games in a 12 year career, as a second basemen for the Reds and New York Giants, posting a career OPS+ of 73. Somehow, he placed in the top 5 in MVP voting twice (2nd in 1926 and 4th in 1928).

In 1933, the year in which this card was issued, Critz was a member of the World Series champion Giants, who beat the Washington Senators in 5 games. That 1933 Giants team featured future Hall of Famers Bill Terry, Mel Ott, Travis Jackson, and Carl Hubbell, as well as some guy named Jo-Jo Moore.

“You see a Manny Ramirez, you see an A-Rod (Alex Rodriguez), you see (Derek) Jeter … Guys that I played against and with, these guys you’re talking about cannot compare,” Rice said to Little Leaguers gathered in the cafeteria.

Stay classy, Jim. Somehow you got into the Hall of Fame and, just a few weeks later, you feel the need to crap all over today’s stars. What an ambassador for the game.

What’s also funny, Jim, is that you can compare the players from your era with those from the modern era. There are statistics for that. I won’t discuss Manny Ramirez or A-Rod because of the steroid issue (and it’s clear that Rice has adopted a holier-than-thou attitude on that subject), so let’s focus on Derek Jeter. I’d love to hear from Rice regarding which shortstops from his era were better hitters than Jeter. I don’t think Rice played with Arky Vaughan or Honus Wagner, so he probably won’t be able to come up with any.

“We didn’t have the baggy uniforms. We didn’t have the dreadlocks,” Rice said. “It was a clean game, and now they’re setting a bad example for the young guys.”

Asked later at a news conference to list current players worthy of the Hall, Rice suggested Seattle Mariner outfielders Ichiro Suzuki and Ken Griffey, Jr., and Chicago White Sox slugger Jim Thome.

Really? That’s the best list that he could come up with? I agree that all three belong in the Hall of Fame, but aren’t there a few really obvious candidates out there? Randy Johnson, John Smoltz, Pedro Martinez, Mariano Rivera, Albert Pujols, Ivan Rodriguez, to name a few.

He said he believes current Hall of Famers who did not cheat don’t want players who took performance-enhancing drugs to join them in the Hall.

Flexing the muscles in his right arm, Rice said, “That’s all the steroids you need. … It’s called God-given talent.”

What a piece of work. I guess Rice is feeling a little cocky due to his recent HOF election, which is still a mystery to me. I know that there is a lot of disagreement on this, but, in my opinion, Rice is not a HOF caliber player. He was a very good player, but not worthy of Cooperstown. Things are going to get awkward over the next few years when the baseball writers realize they elected Rice, but don’t want to elect Fred McGriff or Moises Alou. I guess McGriff and Alou weren’t as “feared” as Rice.

The last sentence of the article sheds some light on the interest level in Rice’s perspective. It reads like a little bit of an eff you from the AP writer:

He got a standing ovation from players and coaches, though some of the 11- to 13-year-old players were yawning or had their heads in their arms on the table about 15 minutes into the talk.

Sounds like your speech was a real showstopper, Jim. If it were Manny, A-Rod, or Jeter doing the talking, I doubt any of the Little Leaguers would have been daydreaming.

I did want to note something that I heard Cowherd say this afternoon, however. While running some errands during lunch today, I had the misfortune of catching a few minutes of Cowherd’s radio show (by the way, ESPN Radio really screwed the pooch when they sent Max Kellerman packing; he used to have a show for the New York market during Cowherd’s time slot and he was surprisingly funny, interesting, and well-informed).

Anyway, Cowherd was discussing how important Curt Schilling and Manny were to the 2004 Red Sox because they “changed the culture” of the team. Their attitudes, Cowherd argued, made the Red Sox no longer fear the Yankees and gave them the confidence to beat them and become champions. He then said (and I’m paraphrasing): “To me, that’s what makes Schilling a Hall of Famer, even more than his 11-2 postseason record. He changed the culture of the Red Sox.”

So let me get this straight. Here is Cowherd’s list of Schilling’s Hall of Fame credentials, in order of importance:

1. Changed culture of 2004 Red Sox.
2. 11-2 postseason record.
3. Everything else he ever did (127 career ERA+, 3116 Ks, 216 wins, 1.137 career WHIP, etc.)

That makes sense, right?

My gut reaction is that Posada has not had a HOF career. I would imagine that most people would have the same reaction. However, I think my gut is wrong. Unfortunately, it is my suspicion that many HOF voters actually go with their gut when formulating their ballots. I’ve heard way too many arguments for HOF candidacy based on how “feared” or “dominant” a player was to feel comfortable that HOF voters are thoroughly and properly examining each player’s candidacy prior to casting their vote. But that’s for a different column.

So, let’s take a look at Posada’s career numbers. So far (and he has three years left on his current contract), Posada, 37, has appeared as a catcher in 1390 games and has played another 52 at DH and 25 at 1B. For his career, Posada is a .277/.380/.477 hitter, with 221 career home runs. His career OPS+ is 124. Posada has had four truly great seasons (2000, 2003, 2004, and 2007). These are solid, if not spectacular, career numbers and would not warrant HOF consideration if Posada was a corner infielder or outfielder. Given the historical shortage of premium offensive catchers, however, the bar is set much lower for induction at this position.

Let’s take a look at all of the catchers since the Dead Ball Era that have a career OPS+ equal to or greater than Posada.

So the list of catchers with a better career OPS+ than Posada is pretty short. All of the players, with the exception of Torre, Tenace, and Piazza, are in the HOF. Piazza will be a first ballot inductee. As for Torre and Tenace, both were excellent hitters, but played only a portion of their respective careers at catcher, with neither player catching more than 903 games (the equivalent of less than 7 years as a full-time catcher). Posada has caught 1390 games so far. If he averages 110 games caught over the three years remaining on this contract, Posada will have 1720 games behind the plate, which stacks up well against the HOF class in terms of longevity at the position. That sort of surprises me – Posada has been durable, but I would not have expected that he has a realistic shot at catching as many career games as Bench and Berra.

Among his contemporaries, I would put Posada as the third best catcher of his generation, behind Piazza and Ivan Rodriguez. Pudge had some truly excellent seasons (even if he didn’t deserve the AL MVP in 1999), although his career numbers have been significantly watered down by truly mediocre offensive performance over the past four seasons (Pudge has a career OPS+ of 110); his defense was superior. And it goes without saying that Piazza is the greatest offensive catcher in MLB history.

Based on this brief analysis, when Posada’s offensive numbers are compared to past catchers, as well as his contemporaries, it appears that Posada may very well have put together a HOF career. It’s not a sure thing, but I think he’s there and I would vote for him if given the opportunity. This analysis, of course, does not consider defensive value. My impression is that Posada has been a below average defensive catcher. Unfortunately, I am not smart enough to figure out defensive value objectively, so my decision on his candidacy is based purely on offensive value. If Posada is able to put up respectable numbers over the final years of his career, I think it will only make the merits of his candidacy more obvious and help to overcome his defensive shortcomings.

So I say Jorge Posada is a Hall of Famer. What do you think?

This statement was not qualified by any mention of the relative costs of the two players, so I am pretty sure that he meant, if he could choose either player, regardless of cost, that he would rather have Abreu on his team than Manny Ramirez. Both are horrible defenders, so the comparison should be based purely on the offensive value of the two players. And, as I Love Nerd York City noted in a recent post, Ramirez absolutely destroyed the ball in 2008, which was apparently also the season in which he gave up on his teammates and cemented his “bad teammate” reputation. Specifically, Ramirez posted a 1.031 OPS in 2008, as compared to Abreu’s respectable, but unspectacular, .842.

This is just another example of Ramirez’s “bad teammate” label making the mainstream sports media forget that they are talking about one of the greatest hitters of all time. And these are the people who vote for the Hall of Fame and MVP awards. No wonder they so often get it wrong (Jim Rice, Tim Raines, and the frightening number of votes for Jack Morris, to name a few).