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: “Eddie is a registered dentist, besides being a high grade major league baseball player.”

I’ll give Goudey a pass on the “high grade” player thing because it is pretty impressive that Doc Farrell was a dentist. One of the fascinating things about reading about old-timey players is how many of them had professions other than baseball. I’ve read about two that were lawyers (including Moe Berg, who was a lawyer and spy for the U.S. during World War II).

Farrell probably should have stuck with dentistry, though. Over nine seasons in the major leagues, he got into just under 600 games and posted a career OPS+ of 66 as an infielder for the New York Giants, Boston Braves, St. Louis Cardinals, Chicago Cubs, New York Yankees, and Boston Red Sox. In 1927, he placed 18th in the MVP voting by hitting .316 and driving in 92 runs, though he only slugged .389 that season.

Following the 1934 season, Farrell was traded by the Yankees, along with 4 other players, to San Francisco of the Pacific Coast League for Joe DiMaggio and players to be named later. Farrell refused to report to his new team and was eventually traded back to the Yankees as one of the players to be named later.

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.

From the back of the card: “When they want somebody to come through with a hit in the pinch they call on Dave Harris.”

The back of the card states that most of Harris’s work came as a pinch hitter, but his career stats suggest that he was more of a part-time player/pinch hitter, and a pretty good one at that. Over seven seasons with the Boston Braves, Washington Senators, and Chicago White Sox, Harris posted a career .812 OPS (111 OPS+) with a respectable .368 OBP, primarily as an outfielder. In 1932 (.938 OPS), he placed 19th in the MVP voting, which seems completely insane, considering he only appeared in 81 games, with only 177 plate appearances.

Harris’s nickname was “The Sheriff.” According to the back of the card, Harris was “a sheriff in his home town of Greensboro, N.C.”

First off, the movie is a great watch for baseball fans. In fact, it could have been a miniseries, as there are too many interesting aspects of Mr. Williams’s life (tough childhood, multiple marriages, relationships with his children, fighter pilot, obsession with hitting, etc.) to cover in a two hour film (it actually inspired me to check out the 500 page Leigh Montville biography of Mr. Williams). And yet, with all of these angles to cover, the film decided to spend time rehashing the “Ted was a selfish player…only cared about his numbers…DiMaggio was a winner” story line. Courtesy of Dan Shaughnessy (actual quote…I had it on DVR):

All the stuff that he was great was individual stuff–hitting .400*, triple crowns, even his great moments like All-Star games…and thats not the reputation you want to have. You don’t want to be known as a great guy in All-Star games. You want to be great in the World Series.

Seriously, I have to respond to this? Well, I’m not even going to talk about sample size, I just can’t do it.

First of all, the Leigh Montville book and the HBO documentary both make the case that players actually cared a lot about All-Star games in the 1940′s/50′s, only slightly less than they cared about the World Series. So performing well in All-Star games actually seems like it meant a lot more to players and fans than it does today.

Second of all, Ted Williams had a career OPS of 1.1116 (OPS+ 191) in 7706 regular season at bats. And this doesn’t account for the fact that he missed his age 24, 25, 26 seasons for WWII, and the vast majority of his age 33 and 34 seasons for the Korean War. Because he had a lousy seven games in his only post-season experience**, he never helped the Red Sox at all.

Finally, the criticism of Mr. Williams caring a lot about his career statistics at the end of his playing career seems to be true. But the Red Sox, from 1954-1960 (Mr. Williams post-Korea career), finished a combined ten games under .500, and a combined 147 games out of first place. A competitive athlete has got to have goals to stay motivated in a situation like that, no?

It’s hard for me to tell if Williams reputation would have been better or worse with the 24/7 sports news cycle that we have today. His spitting/swearing at fans, staying in a different hotel at the end of his career, avoiding/cursing the media would have definitely gotten him the Bonds treatment, and possibly made the internet explode. But he also would have had a PR savvy agent, and his fighting in two wars, charity work, playing through injuries, etc. would have earned him the Eckstein treatment. Which angle would the current sports climate have adopted?

*One thing I didn’t realize until the Montville book was that in the 1941 season, in which Mr. Williams hit .406, sacrifice flies were counted as outs against your batting average. Had the current scoring system applied, the .406 would have actually been .420.

**Another thing from the Montville book–the Red Sox scheduled an exhibition series between the end of the regular season and the World Series to make sure their players “didn’t get rusty.” Williams was hit by a pitch on his elbow, causing him to miss most of this exhibition series, and play through the pain in the World Series.

There was nothing particularly savvy or skillful about it, of course. They were dealing with Scott Boras, so they knew that honor and integrity would play no part in the process.

Just money. Lots and lots of money.

I hate to break it to Callahan, but we’re not talking about Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, so cut the “honor and integrity” moral high ground crap. We’re talking about baseball and free agency. It’s a business, players are commodities, and the name of the game is to maximize earnings and profit. Why is he talking about “honor?” I’m so sick of the phony outrage over Scott Boras. It’s been done to death and it’s just so boring.

In other words, it was a New York Yankees kind of deal right from the start, a chance for them to buy the biggest house on the block and act like they built it with their bare hands.

Yankees general manager Brian Cashman didn’t even have to travel to Mark Teixiera’s [sic] home to grovel. All he had to do was sit back, checkbook in hand, and let Boras do his thing. In the end, the slimy superagent did not let him down.

What does this even mean? The Yankees offered Teixeira a ton of money and he took it. That’s how free agency works. If you’re Teixeira and the Yankees, Orioles, and Nationals all offer you $180M, why wouldn’t you go to the Yankees?

Also, is there now something wrong with just buying a house? I didn’t realize that the classy move was to build your house personally (and hope that everything passes inspection). And this metaphor is strange: what exactly would building it with their bare hands entail? Drafting Teixeira out of high school and developing him into a star? Nobody did that (the Red Sox did draft him, but he didn’t sign) and I don’t remember the Yankees pretending that the Teixeira signing was anything more than a free agent signing.

Also, I know Teixeira’s name is hard to spell, but you work for a newspaper, or at least a tabloid. Get it right.

Boras used the Orioles and Nationals and Angels until he used them up, as Bill Withers would say, and then he played your Boston Red Sox like they were his new Guitar Hero game.

Nice cultural reference – it’s only a few years old. Also, is there some documentation that Boras plays Guitar Hero? If not, this line doesn’t make any sense.

The Sox desperately wanted to bring Teixeira to Boston, and for a while, actually thought they had a shot at the switch-hitting first baseman. Even though they already had a pretty good first baseman and third baseman, the Sox didn’t try to hide their affection for the best free agent on the market. They pounced on Teixeira like Brian Williams on Barack Obama. They made a bold offer of about $170 million over eight years.

Well, at least, Theo Epstein thought it was an offer. In truth, it was a signal from Boras to Cashman, who might as well have been sitting outside in a white van. Their scheme was coming together. Those rubes up in Boston played their part and drove up the price. Now it was time for the Yanks to pony up and close the deal.

Cashman did as he was told. He topped the Sox by a sizable margin. Final number: $180 million over eight years with a full no-trade clause.

So let me get this straight: There was a conspiracy between Boras and Cashman, whereby Boras would let the other teams drive up the price on Teixeira and then, when the price was maxed out, signal Cashman that it was time for the Yanks to sign him. Why would Cashman be complicit in a scheme that resulted in Teixeira’s price going up? That doesn’t make any sense and wouldn’t require Cashman’s involvement at all. Callahan: in order for there to be a conspiracy, there has to be more than one party involved.

Also, you can’t posit a hypothetical scheme by using the phrase “in truth.” That would only make sense if you were actually saying something that was true. This guy is really lazy.

Recession? What recession? The taxpayers of New York helped the Yankees build their new revenue-generating palace, and the Yanks turned around and shared the wealth with Teixeira.

Callahan says this as if Yankees fans didn’t want the Yankees to sign Teixeira.

It is easy to say the Red Sox should have known better, but after lavishing outrageous contracts on other Boras clients, including J.D. Drew and Daisuke Matsuzaka, maybe the Sox thought Boras would give them a fair shake. They thought wrong, and they got burned. The Red Sox ended up with a miffed Mike Lowell, which hasn’t been a problem for them, while New York ended up with one of the best all-around players in the American League, which, as it turns out, has been a big, big problem for the Sox.

How exactly did the Red Sox get burned? If they wanted Teixeira, they could have just offered more than the Yankees. How about $200M? That would not have been a good idea, but it would have gotten the deal done. I fail to see how the Red Sox didn’t get a “fair shake.” In Callahan’s world, every team that misses out on a free agent somehow got ripped off and taken for a ride.

We don’t know yet if the Yankees finally bought themselves a World Series, but we know this: As they take the field against the Red Sox tonight, the Yankees bought themselves first place (or a piece of it, at least), and they did it primarily with one move. After years of foolish free agent signings from Kevin Brown to Carl Pavano to Jason Giambi to Kei Igawa, Cashman and the Yankees got one very right this year.

Does Callahan really not know that Kevin Brown was acquired in a trade with the Dodgers (for Jeff Weaver) and not as a free agent? And does he honestly think it was solely Teixeira’s signing that has improved the Yankees and not Sabathia?

Also, the Red Sox offered Pavano an identical contract to the one he signed with the Yankees. There was good reason to believe that Pavano was going to be overpaid and not great, but no one could have predicted the colossal cluster-F that would be Pavano’s four years in New York.

Finally, I’m sick of everyone claiming that the Giambi contract was a disaster. It certainly didn’t work out as planned for the Yankees. Giambi was overpaid, had the steroid situation, some bizarre injuries, couldn’t play defense, and declined as he stopped using steroids and got older. He was, however, pretty damned productive with the bat over his seven years in New York. He actually posted a .925 OPS (143 OPS+) over the term of the contract.

[Boring section of column deleted]

Teixeira and the Yankees, meanwhile, have won 18 of their last 24 and look nothing like the team that lost all five games to the Sox in April and May. For the last decade, they have spent more than a billion dollars in pursuit of a World Series title and come up empty. Books have been written. Inside stories have been told. Like Jon and Kate, the Yankees’ poor planning has become legendary.

Again, Callahan nails the cultural reference. Did he pick up that Jon and Kate zinger on the checkout line at Shaw’s?

And, really, the Yankees poor planning has become legendary? This is a non-sequitir. The Yankees have made many bad personnel decisions over the last decade. The Red Sox are a smarter organization. But 2008 was the first time the Yankees failed to reach the postseason since 1993 (no postseason in 1994). If you think that’s “poor planning,” speak with fans in Pittsburgh and Washington/Montreal.

But the Yankees, who were a mess only a month ago, come to Boston tonight in first place, and we can’t help but wonder if they finally got one right. This time the blind squirrel didn’t find a nut. Just the opposite. Cashman got himself a real pro, as close to a sure thing as there is in baseball.

Again, this is so goofy. How do you honestly describe a perennial postseason team as a “blind squirrel” that may have “finally got one right?”

Callahan should not be allowed within 200 feet of a newspaper or radio microphone. I sincerely hope that this guy does not have a Hall of Fame vote.

In today’s NY Post, Bart Hubbuch’s article addresses the head-scratching manner in which Mets’ management has treated Ryan Church.

From sending Church on a cross-country flight after his concussion, to the threatened platoon with Fernando Tatis, to the signing of Gary Sheffield, Hubbach covers all of the moves that make the organization seem like a passive-aggressive girlfriend who is trying to get her guy to break up with her.

Very hard to understand when you see that Church OPS’d .869 last April and .976 last May (pre-concussions), and is OPS’ing 1.018 to start this season.  While he’s probably not going to be able to keep that up, we’re still talking about a pretty good player.

Stark has assembled the “The All-Money Player Team,” the selection criteria for which appears to be a player’s clutch hitting ability/postseason performance record. Apparently, Chipper Jones is the starting 3B for the squad, based on his .870 career postseason OPS. That’s a great postseason OPS, but it’s a little less impressive when you consider that Jones’s career regular season OPS is .956 (which, by the way, makes me realize that Jones is much better than I thought he was; this guy is going to the HOF). So Jones is “All-Money” because he’s really good in the postseason, even though he’s significantly worse in the postseason than in the regular season? (By the way, A-Rod’s career postseason OPS is .844, suspiciously close to the “All-Money” benchmark of .870, even though A-Rod is generally considered to be one of the worst postseason performers of his generation).

To find the the starting SS for the “The All-Money Player Team,” Stark ditched the stats altogether, choosing Jimmy Rollins because “Who loves The Big Moment more than this man?” What does that even mean? Is “The Big Moment” a baseball term that I just haven’t heard yet? Also, Rollins’s career postseason OPS is .732. But that doesn’t matter because he loves The Big Moment. Apparently, in order to be “All-Money,” you don’t have to perform well in The Big Moment, you just have to love it. That’s what I told the admissions officer at Yale when I applied during my senior year in high school: “Don’t worry about the fact that I got a 600 on the SATs - what matters is that I loved taking the SATs!” (It didn’t work, which explains why I’m sitting in white sweatpants in my Mom’s basement, writing a snarky article for a baseball blog).

Chase Utley is the starting 2B for “The All-Money Player Team,” which is hard to dispute. However, Stark bestows the honor on Utley because he “hasn’t taken an inning off since birth.” I’m not really sure what that means, especially since Utley has averaged just under 150 games played during his four full seasons in the majors. So it appears that Utley has actually taken off approximately 108 innings each of the last four seasons. Also, isn’t Utley “All-Money” because he’s really, really good at baseball, not because he’s apparently never taken an inning off.

Following the unveiling of the “The All-Money Player Team,” Stark puts together a series of other hypothetical squads, which are actually even more ridiculous than “The All-Money Player Team.” I’ll spare you an analysis of those teams, since I’m sure most readers have already bailed on this post.

And I shouldn’t really give Stark too hard a time. He was probably told by the ESPN.com editors to put together a quirky column for the web site’s MLB Season Preview and this is what he came up with under deadline.

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?

To help illustrate just how crazy this is, here are the details on some recent contracts signed by other corner outfielders who have similar offensive (lots) and defensive (not much) value as Dunn. It is important to note that these contracts were all signed prior to the current economic crisis, but even that does not explain the chopped-liver treatment that Dunn is getting this off-season.

In 2005, J. D. Drew, a right fielder, signed a 5 year/$55M deal with the Dodgers at age 29. After the 2006 season, Drew opted out of that deal and signed a 5 year/$70M deal with the Red Sox. Drew’s career OPS? 893. Granted, Drew is a defensive upgrade over Dunn, but he’s also an incredible injury risk (he missed 53 games in 2008), while Dunn routinely plays over 150 games each year (from 2004-2006, he played at least 160).

In 2005, Magglio Ordonez, another oft-injured, but great hitting, right fielder, signed a 5 year/$75M deal with the Tigers at age 31. Ordonez’s career OPS? 890.

In 2003, Bobby Abreu, a right fielder, signed a 5 year/$64M deal with the Phillies at age 29. Recent reporting on ESPN.com has indicated that Abreu is one of the worst defensive outfielders in the game. His career OPS? 902.

If we want to look to the future, Jason Bay, a left fielder, will be a free agent after the 2009 season, when he will be 31. Bay’s career OPS? 891. Any chance Bay will have to settle for a one-year contract next year?

What all of these comparisons tell us is that Dunn is not getting a fair shake this off-season and is incredibly undervalued by GMs throughout MLB. Most likely, the state of rational thinking in MLB is more to blame than the state of the economy. Here’s the proof: just last month, Raul Ibanez signed a 3 year/$31.5M deal with the Phillies. Yes, that Raul Ibanez. The 36-year-old left fielder with the 818 career OPS. The amazing thing about this deal is that the Phillies actually took a look at the free agent field and chose to fill their left field hole with Ibanez rather than Dunn. In looking ahead to defending their World Series championship, the Phillies consciously opted for the worse player.

Why the lack of love for Dunn? I don’t know. It could be J.P. Ricciardi’s nonsense comments about Dunn a couple of years ago or just the unwillingness of MLB GMs to understand that a one-dimensional player is supremely valuable if his one dimension consists of hitting home runs and getting on base. Either way, Dunn is getting screwed.

If I were a GM, I’d love to have 9 Adam Dunns in my lineup (in the AL, I don’t want Dunn pitching). Clogged bases lead to a hell of a lot of runs.