Filling the Saberhagen Gaps (Part 2)

We’ve presented two volumes of “Filling the Mickey Vernon Gaps,” but our version for pitchers has had just one. So it’s time to give the moundsmen another chance.

For the structure of this exercise, see the References and Resources section below. All adjusted stat lines appear in blue, all actuals are in black.

Two Tall Dodger Righthanders

Rick Sutcliffe

Before he made his living delivering platitudes and inanities in the world’s most annoying, sing-songy voice, Sutcliffe was a pretty good pitcher. He was also, however, quite prone to slumps and injuries. With the setbacks smoothed over, a 171-game-winner becomes a 222-game-winner.

 Year  Age    W    L    G   GS   CG   IP    H   HR   BB   SO  ERA ERA+
 1976   20    0    0    1    1    0    5    2    0    1    3 0.00  inf
 1978   22    0    0    2    0    0    2    2    0    1    0 0.00  inf
 1979   23   17   10   39   30    5  242  217   16   97  117 3.46  105
 1980   24   11    9   38   22    4  189  171   14   83  106 3.68   95
 1981   25   11    7   29   21    4  168  144   12   72   92 3.30  101
 1982   26   14    8   34   27    6  216  174   16   98  142 2.96  138
 1983   27   17   11   36   35   10  243  251   23  102  160 4.29   99
 1984   28   20    6   35   35    9  245  234   16   85  213 3.64  109
 1985   29   15    8   30   30    7  204  192   17   78  163 3.56  112
 1986   30   14   10   32   32    6  220  208   19   96  170 3.92  104
 1987   31   18   10   34   34    6  237  223   24  106  174 3.68  117
 1988   32   13   14   32   32   12  226  232   18   70  144 3.86   94
 1989   33   16   11   35   34    5  229  202   18   69  153 3.66  103
 1990   34   11    9   25   25    3  163  159   13   52   90 4.15   99
 1991   35   13   10   30   29    3  188  183   14   63  105 4.08   95
 1992   36   16   15   36   36    5  237  251   20   74  109 4.47   90
 1993   37   10   10   29   28    3  166  212   23   74   80 5.75   77
 1994   38    6    4   16   14    0   68   93   11   32   26 6.52   64
Career      222  152  514  465   89 3247 3150  275 1252 2046 3.92  101

Bill Singer

In 1969, this big fellow appeared ready to take over right where Don Drysdale was leaving off, set to anchor the Dodger rotation for years to come. But in 1970, “The Singer Throwing Machine” contracted, of all things, hepatitis, and in the following two seasons his fastball featured little of its former sizzle.

Traded to the Angels in 1973, he mounted a remarkable comeback, one that was widely suspected at the time to owe much to a foreign substance on the baseball—rather in the manner of Drysdale again. Off to a strong start in 1974, Singer’s season ended in early June due to a back injury that required surgery. Following that, he got by on smoke and mirrors for a couple of years.

Our version doesn’t present a long career, but what’s there is darn good.

 Year  Age    W    L    G   GS   CG   IP    H   HR   BB   SO  ERA ERA+
 1964   20    0    1    2    2    0   14   11    0   12    3 3.21  101
 1965   21    0    0    2    0    0    1    2    0    2    1 0.00  inf
 1966   22    0    0    3    0    0    4    4    0    2    4 0.00  inf
 1967   23   12    8   32   29    7  204  185    5   61  169 2.64  118
 1968   24   13   17   37   36   12  256  227   14   78  227 2.88   96
 1969   25   20   12   41   40   16  316  244   22   74  247 2.34  143
 1970   26   16   10   32   32   13  246  201   16   79  194 2.83  136
 1971   27   17   14   37   37   14  278  240   19   92  211 3.12  104
 1972   28   15   14   36   35   13  267  224   15   88  196 2.97  113
 1973   29   20   14   40   40   19  316  280   15  130  241 3.22  110
 1974   30   13    9   30   30   11  220  205   10   90  138 3.35  103
 1975   31   13   13   35   34   11  244  228   15  102  139 3.80   94
 1976   32   13   10   36   36    7  237  233   13   96   97 3.69   97
 1977   33    2    8   13   12    0   60   71    5   39   33 6.79   62
Career      155  131  376  363  124 2663 2355  149  944 1900 3.15  107

Old School

Schoolboy Rowe

THT’s own Richard Barbieri presented a terrific profile of Rowe here. Schoolboy might as well have been nicknamed “Zombie,” given that he came back from the dead-arm not once but twice. Few pitchers ever have better demonstrated how pinpoint control, guile and smarts can compensate for an ever-disappearing fastball. His was one of the more fascinating pitching careers.

Here we’ve filled in the blank spaces (including World War II military service—why not?) and the result is a career that ranks among the best of Rowe’s generation.

 Year  Age    W    L    G   GS   CG   IP    H   HR   BB   SO  ERA ERA+
 1933   23    7    4   19   15    8  123  129    7   31   75 3.58  121
 1934   24   24    8   45   30   20  266  259   12   81  149 3.45  128
 1935   25   19   13   42   34   21  276  272   11   68  140 3.69  114
 1936   26   19   10   41   35   19  245  266   15   64  115 4.51  109
 1937   27   10    9   26   18   11  154  161    9   39   73 4.19  111
 1938   28   18    9   38   32   15  228  238   16   65   92 3.98  125
 1939   29   13    8   28   24   10  167  181   16   52   56 4.22  116
 1940   30   16    3   27   23   11  169  170   15   43   61 3.46  138
 1941   31    8    6   27   14    4  139  155    6   33   54 4.14  110
 1942   32   13    7   38   23    8  210  221    9   45   66 3.54   97
 1943   33   14    8   27   25   11  199  196    7   29   52 2.94  115
 1944   34   10    5   22   15    7  138  134    5   27   53 3.14  115
 1945   35   14    9   29   27   13  197  214   15   37   63 3.63  106
 1946   36   11    4   17   16    9  136  112    3   21   51 2.12  163
 1947   37   14   10   31   28   15  196  232   22   45   74 4.32   93
 1948   38   10   10   30   20    8  148  167    5   31   46 4.07   97
 1949   39    3    7   23    6    2   65   68    2   17   22 4.82   82
Career      222  129  510  384  191 3055 3174  174  727 1242 3.74  112

Johnny Vander Meer

His 1938 back-to-back no-hitters, a feat unmatched to this day, are almost exclusively Vander Meer’s popular legacy. But he had wicked, nasty stuff and many fine seasons other than ’38. Also, however, “Double No-Hit” struggled with periodic arm trouble, and his career includes nasty dips and gaps.

Despite those, one striking feature of Vander Meer’s career is that he never seemed to evolve: he arrived in the majors in his early 20s as a scarily hard thrower with lousy control, and he left the majors in his mid-30s as a scarily hard thrower with lousy control. In that single regard, The Dutch Master was unwaveringly consistent.

 Year  Age    W    L    G   GS   CG   IP    H   HR   BB   SO   ERA ERA+
 1937   22    3    5   19    9    4   84   63    0   69   52  3.84   97
 1938   23   15   10   32   29   16  225  177   12  103  125  3.12  117
 1939   24   12   11   32   27   14  194  159    9  108  143  3.35  115
 1940   25   11    8   25   23   12  167  129    8   90  123  3.04  124
 1941   26   16   13   33   32   18  226  172    8  126  202  2.82  127
 1942   27   18   12   33   33   21  244  188    6  102  186  2.43  135
 1943   28   15   16   36   36   21  289  228    5  162  174  2.87  115
 1944   29   16   15   35   34   20  258  200    7  144  188  2.85  123
 1945   30   18   13   33   33   18  238  196   11  113  153  2.91  129
 1946   31   15   12   32   30   17  225  178    8  102  161  2.79  120
 1947   32   12   13   30   30   13  212  187   10  111  110  3.52  117
 1948   33   17   14   33   33   14  232  204   15  124  120  3.41  115
 1949   34    5   10   28   24    7  160  172   12   85   76  4.90   86
 1950   35    3    4   32    6    0   74   60   10   59   41  3.79  110
 1951   36    0    1    1    1    0    3    8    0    1    2 18.00   21
Career      175  157  433  380  194 2829 2321  120 1499 1855  3.16  116

A Hardball Times Update
Goodbye for now.
Monosyllabic Buc Chuckers

I can’t remember where I read it. I thought sure it was in The Great American Baseball Card Flipping, Trading and Bubble Gum Book, but I just scoured that book and can’t find it. But I read it somewhere, 30-some-odd years ago; the observation isn’t mine originally.

Anyway, here it is: It was just uncanny the way the Pittsburgh Pirates in the 1950s and ’60s had pitchers on their roster with single-syllable last names. And not just ordinary single-syllable last names, no, no: single-syllable last names that were a word in real life.

Not convinced? Well, how about these two, for starters: Friend and Law. Between them they pitched for the Pirates for something around 75 years, right? And those are both single-syllable last names, right? And “friend” and “law” are most assuredly English words, aren’t they?

And then here comes Face.

And Veale. And Moose. And Lamb. And Wolfe.

And then here comes King and Queen. Green and Wood. Hall and Hall.

And Grant, Churn, and Wade. And Page, Bell, Main, Witt, Short, and Gross.

And Dunn.

Anyway …

Bob Friend

Rushed to the majors by Branch Rickey’s youth-movement Pirates, Friend undertook his development phase against major league opponents, and racked up some pretty sad early stats to show for it. But he persevered through that trial-by-fire, and though the mature Friend was never the most talented guy in the league, he demonstrated tremendous control, and “Warrior” was bulldog-tough, a genuine student of the game, and capable of sustaining a backbreaking workload.

Even more than most pitchers, a workhorse of this sort needs to be assessed on more than just his wins, losses and ERA; the innings-eating alone is an extremely valuable contribution. But, that said, even through his prime years Friend’s wins, losses and ERA were a maddening sawtooth of inconsistency.

Here we’ve scraped the roughest edges off the young Friend’s ascendancy and allowed him to maintain something close to peak form across the heart of his career. He still absorbs some punishment, but the overall record is quite impressive.

Leonard Koppett on Bob Friend:

A gentleman in every sense of the word, respected universally by fellow players (who put his business sense to work long ago by making him a league player representative), Friend is articulate, cooperative and knowledgeable. His blue eyes twinkle with a humor that’s softer than Whitey Ford’s, but rich enough. And if there is such a thing as big league atmosphere, Friend exudes it.

 Year  Age    W    L    G   GS   CG   IP    H   HR   BB   SO  ERA ERA+
 1951   20    6   10   34   22    3  150  173   12   68   41 4.27   99
 1952   21    7   17   35   23    6  185  186   15   84   75 4.18   95
 1953   22   11   10   38   22    9  186  186   18   55   82 3.78  118
 1954   23   13   13   43   27   11  228  231   20   65  112 3.68  114
 1955   24   14    9   44   20    9  200  178   18   52   98 2.83  146
 1956   25   17   17   49   42   19  314  310   25   85  166 3.46  109
 1957   26   18   16   42   39   17  288  294   26   71  148 3.51  108
 1958   27   22   14   38   38   16  274  299   25   61  135 3.68  105
 1959   28   18   14   37   37   14  267  279   21   53  148 3.46  112
 1960   29   18   12   38   37   16  276  266   18   45  183 3.00  125
 1961   30   17   14   39   36   14  262  273   20   48  152 3.18  126
 1962   31   18   14   39   36   13  262  280   23   53  144 3.06  129
 1963   32   17   16   39   38   12  269  236   13   44  144 2.34  140
 1964   33   13   18   35   35   13  240  253   10   50  128 3.33  105
 1965   34    8   12   34   34    8  222  221   17   47   74 3.24  108
 1966   35    6   12   34   20    2  131  162   13   25   52 4.55   78
Career      222  218  618  507  181 3754 3826  293  906 1883 3.40  113

Vern Law

Friend’s longtime teammate was an extreme soft-tosser who encountered similar difficulties before emerging as a star. Then, following his Cy Young Award season of 1960, Law suffered arm trouble, and struggled again for several years until coming back with one final terrific year in 1965. Our version avoids the worst of those problems and goes 186-142.

A devout Mormon, Law was nicknamed “Deacon” and “Preacher” by his teammates. He and his wife, VaNita, had six children: Veldon, Veryl, Vaughn, Varlin, VaLynda and Vance.

 Year  Age    W    L    G   GS   CG   IP    H   HR   BB   SO  ERA ERA+
 1950   20    7    9   27   17    5  128  137   11   49   57 4.92   89
 1951   21    6    9   28   14    2  114  109    9   51   41 4.50   94
 1952-53   (In Military Service)
 1954   24    8   11   37   19    6  159  177   16   56   60 4.55   92
 1955   25   10   10   43   24    8  201  221   19   61   82 3.81  108
 1956   26   11   12   35   29    7  190  208   19   40   57 3.75  100
 1957   27   10    8   31   25    9  173  172   18   32   55 2.87  133
 1958   28   14   10   33   29   12  214  217   20   41   74 3.27  118
 1959   29   18    9   34   33   20  266  245   25   53  110 2.98  130
 1960   30   20    9   35   35   18  272  266   25   40  120 3.08  122
 1961   31   11    7   23   22   11  163  159   18   36   65 3.29  121
 1962   32   15    8   29   28   13  206  211   23   34   99 3.37  117
 1963   33   11    7   24   20    7  147  137   14   24   66 2.88  114
 1964   34   15   11   32   29   10  205  193   18   34   97 2.84  123
 1965   35   17    9   29   28   13  217  182   17   35  101 2.15  163
 1966   36   12    8   31   28    8  178  203   19   24   88 4.05   88
 1967   37    2    6   25   10    1   97  122    5   18   43 4.18   81
Career      186  142  495  388  148 2928 2958  275  627 1215 3.41  112

A Puzzle

Bob Knepper

As we discussed here, Knepper was a remarkably durable pitcher, delivering 200-inning seasons year in and year out, and never in his entire career spending a day on the disabled list. But while he was durable, Knepper was amazingly inconsistent: For example, in the five seasons from 1978 through 1982, his ERA+ figures were 131, 76, 86, 150, and 75.

 Year  Age    W    L    G   GS   CG   IP    H   HR   BB   SO  ERA ERA+
 1976   22    1    2    4    4    0   25   26    0    7   11 3.24  113
 1977   23   11    9   27   27    6  166  151   14   72  100 3.36  116
 1978   24   17   11   36   35   16  260  218   10   85  147 2.63  131
 1979   25   12    9   31   30    9  208  196   15   67  115 3.19  110
 1980   26   12   11   31   30   10  211  196   10   61  108 3.02  117
 1981   27    9    5   22   22    6  157  128    5   38   75 2.18  150
 1982   28    7   11   30   27    5  180  174   10   56  103 3.32  100
 1983   29    6   13   35   29    4  203  202   12   71  125 3.19  107
 1984   30   15   10   35   34   11  234  223   26   55  140 3.20  105
 1985   31   15   13   37   37    4  241  253   21   54  131 3.55   97
 1986   32   17   12   40   38    8  258  232   19   62  143 3.14  115
 1987   33   13   11   33   32    4  204  205   19   61  107 3.76  104
 1988   34   14    5   27   27    3  175  156   13   67  103 3.14  106
 1989   35    7   12   35   26    1  165  190   16   75   64 5.13   66
 1990   36    3    3   12    7    0   44   56    7   19   24 5.68   64
Career      158  137  435  405   87 2730 2606  198  850 1496 3.31  106

Distinguished Dignitaries of Durability

But you want to talk about really durable …

Jim Kaat

Kaat, who following his playing career became an exceptionally perceptive and engaging analyst on TV, also was an exceptional pitcher. He was never great, but he was very good for a very, very long time, and was an extraordinarily adept fielding and hitting pitcher to boot.

Yet despite his 283 wins and 4,530 innings, Kaat isn’t in the Hall of Fame, and hasn’t come especially close. It might be accurate to say that it’s the lack of a dominating peak that’s kept him from Cooperstown. I’ve always felt, though, that it was his minor lull in performance between his excellent mid-1960s seasons and his mid-1970s resurgence, from ages 29 through 34. Kaat was a good pitcher through that period, but not really a star.

Had he been able to sustain something closer to his best form through those six years (and without the off-year in 1963 too, what the heck), he’d have been a 317-game winner, and 15th on the all-time list in innings pitched. “Kitty’s” plaque would have been mounted many years ago.

 Year  Age    W    L    G   GS   CG   IP    H   HR   BB   SO   ERA ERA+
 1959   20    0    2    3    2    0    5    7    1    4    2 12.60   31
 1960   21    1    5   13    9    0   50   48    8   31   25  5.58   69
 1961   22    9   17   36   29    8  201  188   12   82  122  3.90  108
 1962   23   18   14   39   35   16  269  243   23   75  173  3.14  130
 1963   24   15   12   35   32   12  230  223   23   58  150  3.44  105
 1964   25   17   11   36   34   13  243  231   23   60  171  3.22  111
 1965   26   18   11   45   42    7  264  267   25   63  154  2.83  126
 1966   27   25   13   41   41   19  305  271   29   55  205  2.75  131
 1967   28   16   13   42   38   13  263  269   21   42  211  3.04  114
 1968   29   18   13   38   36   14  259  244   22   46  182  2.90  107
 1969   30   18   13   41   37   14  270  264   24   57  185  3.07  119
 1970   31   20   12   43   38   13  271  259   24   59  156  3.04  123
 1971   32   16   14   41   39   13  276  288   19   55  163  3.16  113
 1972   33   17   10   33   32   11  231  226   15   53  116  2.86  112
 1973   34   19   13   40   38   12  268  278   23   61  131  3.40  117
 1974   35   21   13   42   39   15  277  263   18   63  142  2.92  128
 1975   36   20   14   43   41   12  304  321   20   77  142  3.11  125
 1976   37   12   14   38   35    7  228  241   21   32   83  3.48  102
 1977   38    6   11   35   27    2  160  211   20   40   55  5.39   74
 1978   39    8    5   26   24    2  140  150    9   32   48  4.10   87
 1979   40    3    3   43    2    0   67   73    5   19   25  3.92  104
 1980   41    8    8   53   14    6  135  148    6   37   37  3.94   94
 1981   42    6    6   41    1    0   53   60    2   17    8  3.40  105
 1982   43    5    3   62    2    0   75   79    6   23   35  4.08   89
 1983   44    0    0   24    0    0   35   48    5   10   19  3.89   93
Career      317  249  934  667  209 4879 4901  404 1151 2740  3.32  111

Robin Roberts

The staggering workload Roberts handled during his brilliant run from 1950 through 1955 apparently wore him out. Beginning in ’56 came a precipitous decline all the way down to the scrap heap in 1961. The Yankees scavenged Roberts at that point, but discarded him in May of of 1962 without even granting him a game appearance through that season’s early weeks. The Orioles then took a chance on Roberts, and he rewarded them with a remarkable comeback that sustained itself into 1965.

Our version struggles far less in mid-career. But check out that resulting total: 299 wins. Somehow I suspect someone would have given him one more chance in 1967, in the manner in which the guy we see below was hired on by the Indians in 1963.

 Year  Age    W    L    G   GS   CG   IP    H   HR   BB   SO  ERA ERA+
 1948   21    7    9   20   20    9  147  148   10   61   84 3.19  124
 1949   22   15   15   43   31   11  227  229   15   75   95 3.69  107
 1950   23   20   11   40   39   21  304  282   29   77  146 3.02  135
 1951   24   21   15   44   39   22  315  284   20   64  127 3.03  127
 1952   25   28    7   39   37   30  330  292   22   45  148 2.59  141
 1953   26   23   16   44   41   33  347  324   30   61  198 2.75  152
 1954   27   23   15   45   38   29  337  289   35   56  185 2.97  136
 1955   28   23   14   41   38   26  305  292   41   53  160 3.28  121
 1956   29   21   17   44   38   26  317  309   41   48  171 3.66  102
 1957   30   17   18   40   35   20  277  269   41   48  144 3.63  105
 1958   31   17   14   35   34   21  270  270   30   51  130 3.24  122
 1959   32   13   13   31   30   13  224  222   26   38  120 3.63  113
 1960   33   13   15   35   34   11  244  243   33   37  123 3.67  106
 1961   34    7    9   29   25    5  161  179   19   38   82 3.98  102
 1962   35   10    9   27   25    6  191  176   17   41  102 2.78  136
 1963   36   14   13   35   35    9  251  230   35   40  124 3.33  106
 1964   37   13    7   31   31    8  204  203   18   52  109 2.91  123
 1965   38   10    9   30   25    8  191  171   18   30   97 2.78  123
 1966   39    5    8   24   21    2  112  141   15   21   54 4.82   73
Career      299  233  677  615  309 4754 4552  493  936 2398 3.24  119

Early Wynn

Our version of this guy almost certainly wouldn’t have gotten that one last chance in ’63; he would have long since surpassed the 300-win mark.

Wynn’s career arc is one of the weirdest of all time. After taking serious lumps in his first full season at age 22, he suddenly established himself the following year as a solid front-of-the-rotation pitcher—not dominating, but steady. He went along that way for several years (with a military service interruption), but then in 1948, at the age of 28, he utterly collapsed, turning in one of the ugliest stat lines of any full-season pitcher, ever: Wynn was 8-19 with a 5.82 ERA (an ERA+ of 74). His peripherals were even worse. He allowed 236 hits (including 18 homers) and 94 walks in 198 innings, while striking out a grand total of 49.

One strongly surmises Wynn was pitching through arm trouble or other injury, but whatever it was, when such a sudden complete loss of effectiveness occurs, the end of a pitcher’s career as a front-liner is almost always soon to follow.

But not for this guy. Cleveland traded for him, and there in 1949, under Indians pitching coach Mel Harder, Wynn stabilized his career with a decent season as a spot starter. And then in 1950, at the age of 30, he was suddenly reborn, an entirely different pitcher.

With his deep new repertoire of nasty stuff, mixing a curve, slider, changeup and knuckleball with his always-good fastball, Wynn’s strikeout rate skyrocketed (although, interestingly, his walk rate also rose slightly), and his hits-allowed rate plunged. He would be consistently among the elite aces in baseball through 1956.

In 1957 and ’58, at ages 37 and 38, Wynn remained a workhorse, and his strikeout rate remained very healthy—indeed in both seasons he led the league—but he gave up quite a few homers, and his ERA wasn’t good. The end finally appeared near.

But not for this guy. In 1959, at 39, Wynn led the league in starts, innings and wins, and was named the AL Pitcher of the Year by The Sporting News and the major league Cy Young Award winner by the baseball writers. No one, but no one, back in 1948 would have predicted such an eventuality.

Morris Eckhouse at The Baseball Library aptly sums up “Gus” Wynn:

Wynn’s distinct personality led him to call the pitching mound his “office.” He worked with a grim, fierce appearance, and might be best remembered for saying he would knock down his grandmother if she dug in against him. Feared on the field, Wynn was an easygoing, fun-loving practical joker off the field. A dangerous batter who is among the all-time pitchers’ leaders in hits, he was used as a pinch hitter 90 times during his career and hit .270 or better five times.

 Year  Age    W    L    G   GS   CG   IP    H   HR   BB   SO  ERA ERA+
 1939   19    0    2    3    3    1   20   26    0   10    1 5.75   75
 1941   21    3    1    5    5    4   40   35    1   10   15 1.58  258
 1942   22   10   16   30   28   10  190  246    6   73   58 5.12   71
 1943   23   18   12   37   33   12  257  232   15   83   89 2.91  110
 1944   24    8   17   33   25   19  208  221    3   67   65 3.38   96
 1945   25   13   15   35   29   16  232  227    9   75   77 3.12   99
 1946   26   18   13   38   31   19  257  254   16   85   84 3.11  108
 1947   27   17   15   33   31   22  247  251   13   90   73 3.64  103
 1948   28   14   14   33   30   17  220  218   17   95   88 4.15  104
 1949   29   15   10   30   27   14  208  201   14   83   93 3.63  110
 1950   30   18    8   32   28   14  214  166   20  101  143 3.20  136
 1951   31   20   13   37   34   21  274  227   18  107  133 3.02  126
 1952   32   23   12   42   33   19  286  239   23  132  153 2.90  115
 1953   33   17   12   36   34   16  252  234   19  107  138 3.93   95
 1954   34   23   11   40   36   20  271  225   21   83  155 2.73  135
 1955   35   17   11   32   31   16  230  207   19   80  122 2.82  142
 1956   36   20    9   38   35   18  278  233   19   91  158 2.72  154
 1957   37   19   12   38   36   15  265  235   24  105  174 3.39  109
 1958   38   19   12   38   35   14  258  216   22  105  172 3.31  111
 1959   39   22   10   37   37   14  256  202   20  119  179 3.17  118
 1960   40   13   12   36   35   13  237  220   20  112  158 3.49  109
 1961   41    8    2   17   16    5  110   88   11   47   64 3.51  111
 1962   42    7   15   27   26   11  168  171   15   56   91 4.46   87
 1963   43    1    2   20    5    1   55   50    2   15   29 2.28  159
Career      343  255  747  664  331 5032 4624  346 1930 2512 3.35  113

References & Resources
Everyone’s actual career (especially pitchers) includes a certain degree of year-to-year variation, and I wanted even these smoothed-out versions to reflect some of that. So instead of using strict formality, I allowed myself to be a little looser, and apply a bit of artistic license. However, I did require myself to stick to some basic rules:

– I couldn’t just make stuff up; all adjusted stats have to start with the particular pitcher’s actual stat lines.
– In most cases, the stats from the season being adjusted were included (even if in a minor weighting) in the adjusted line, to give the adjusted line some of the flavor of that actual season’s performance.
– No pitcher’s career can start earlier than it did, or end later than it did.
– No adjusted season can surpass the pitcher’s actual peak season(s); the adjusted seasons act as a bridge to and from peaks, not a new peak.

I’ve endeavored to create a new version of each pitcher’s career that is idealized, but in a plausible manner. The intended effect is to enhance the actual career while not overwhelming it, to create an easily recognizable version of the actual career that is, to a reasonable degree, the best it might have been.

Feel free to email me with any questions about the precise formulae used for any particular pitcher.

The Leonard Koppett quote is from the must-read essay on Friend in The Neyer/James Guide to Pitchers, by Bill James and Rob Neyer, New York: Fireside, 2004, pp. 108-113.


Steve Treder has been a co-author of every Hardball Times Annual publication since its inception in 2004. His work has also been featured in Nine, The National Pastime, and other publications. He has frequently been a presenter at baseball forums such as the SABR National Convention, the Nine Spring Training Conference, and the Cooperstown Symposium. When Steve grows up, he hopes to play center field for the San Francisco Giants.

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