Bernie deserving of a Hall plaque
Career achievements worthy of Cooperstown
by Aaron Moore as published on YESNetwork.com on July 27, 2006
Late July is the best part of the baseball season.
Most baseball aficionados would disagree and cite the postseason or spring training as Major League Baseball's primetime, but for a stathead like me who genuflects in the direction of Bill James, the time of year when a new Hall of Fame class is inducted validates our existence. Now people actually pay attention to our vast collection of memorized batting averages and trivia tidbits because debating the merits of who belongs into the Hall of Fame is the prerogative of every baseball fan.
When was the last time you walked into a sports bar and heard two guys arguing about whether Teemu Selanne should be elected into the Hockey Hall of Fame on the first ballot?
The current talk about the Hall of Fame centers on Bruce Sutter's new residence in baseball history. Congratulations to the outstanding Fireman, his beard and his forkball for this well-deserved honor.
Even though the glue on the closer's plaque has yet to dry, it's never too early to look at possible future inductees. So now is a perfect opportunity to state the case that in a few years, Bernie Williams should be standing behind the same podium where Sutter will accept his honor.
Derek Jeter and Mariano Rivera will ride theirs and the Yankees' success of the 1990s all the way to Cooperstown without a hint of resistance. The case for Williams to do likewise won't be as smooth, but nevertheless, during 16 seasons, he evolved from maligned prospect to quiet leader to Hall of Famer.
Although Williams was never a Madison Avenue commodity and was routinely overshadowed by the larger-than-life personas during the home run era that coincided with his peak seasons, this five-tool player belongs in the Hall because of his combination of offensive consistency, postseason prowess and defense.
Offensively, the five-time All-Star has a batting title (.339 in 1998) and three other appearances in the Top 5 for average.
When it comes to the offense of other Hall of Fame center fielders — of course Ty Cobb, Joe DiMaggio, Willie Mays and Mickey Mantle reside in a different universe — Richie Ashburn has one more batting title to his credit, but Williams was always a greater presence than the singles hitter. Lloyd Waner, Earle Combs and Earl Averill never even won a batting title.
Williams carries the distinction of being the first player in Major League history to win a batting title, Gold Glove, and World Series in the same season.
With his average this year hovering around .280, Williams' career mark remains shy of .300. Skeptics of Williams for the Hall would be silenced if he can up his current .297 career average just a few more points. Another 200 hundred or so hits to break the 2,500 plateau also wouldn't hurt.
Defensively, he earned four consecutive Gold Gloves from 1997 to 2000. Never one to make a diving catch just to make an appearance on SportsCenter a la Jim Edmonds,
Williams relied on unquestionable Hall of Fame range in the outfield.
Where Williams truly elevated his career from outstanding player to Hall of Famer was the playoffs. Through the years, the modest switch hitter took a different approach than characterizing himself as the "straw that stirs the drink" but he is the franchise's true "Mr. October." During his 120 postseason games, Williams has Major League records for home runs (22), RBIs (80) and runs scored (82). He won the 1996 ALCS MVP after knocking Baltimore pitching around for two homers — including the game-winning blast in the 11th inning of Game 1 — and a .474 average.
Compare Williams' playoff numbers with Chipper Jones, another player who annually has a seat aboard the postseason express. The Atlanta Brave has 13 home runs, 47 RBIs and 58 runs scored in his 92 playoff appearances. Manny Ramirez's 20 home runs, 43 RBIs and 44 runs scored in the playoffs also rank behind Williams.
Of course, purists and those who vividly remember the days of the Teddy Roosevelt administration will criticize the records as being byproducts of MLB's postseason expansion. They dismiss Williams as an aberration since he played in so many more games than the previous record holders like Mantle and Yogi Berra. It's true that Williams'462 postseason at-bats are far more than Mantle's 230 and Berra's 259; however a Hall of Fame candidacy must be judged during the time he played, not compared to a bygone era.
If a major requirement for making the Hall is being the best or near best at your position for close to a decade, Williams certainly leaps over that hurdle.
The title of the best cente rfielder of the 1990s to the early 21st century clearly belongs to Ken Griffey Jr. Try arguing against the nomination of Williams as the second best during this time frame. Who is the alternative — Kenny Lofton? Andruw Jones' impressive run did not begin until 1997 and Kirby Puckett's career abruptly ended in 1995.
Since Williams never won a regular season MVP, his offensive accomplishments are often overlooked at the expense of his slugging contemporaries. The loudest argument against Williams being a Hall of Famer is his lack of home runs. When most of the attention was bestowed on those with Roger Maris in their sights, Williams was hitting between 20 and 30 homers a year. Only once did he hit 30 home runs in a season. He will have to play at least one more season to hit his 300th career big fly.
Williams made a name for himself during the home run era by producing in a host of different ways. Look at his numbers compared to two other multidimensional Hall of Fame outfielders.
During Williams' best 10-year span from 1994 to 2004, he averaged 24 home runs, 100 RBIs, 11 stolen bases and a .309 average.
Roberto Clemente from 1960 to 1970 averaged 19 home runs, 92 RBIs, six stolen bases and a .330 average.
Dave Winfield from 1977 to 1987 averaged 28 home runs, 104 RBIs, 14 stolen bases and a .289 average.
Unlike Williams, whose top years compare favorably to these two legends, Clemente and Winfield reached the magical 3,000 hit mark. Those who oppose Williams' entrance into the Hall will highlight his notable distance from 3,000. Williams will most likely end his career with fewer hits than Steve Finley, B.J. Surhoff and Mark Grace.
The sizeable gap between his current numbers and that high-rent district along with the names he trails in career hits should be trumped by Williams' role on four World Series winning clubs. Would Tony Pérez, who never won an MVP or RBI crown, be in the Hall if he didn't play with the Big Red Machine?
Also boosting Williams' case for the Hall is the fact that he never had public run-ins with the media, that influential group that just happens to punch the tickets to Cooperstown. Having a good relationship with the press makes a viable contender an even stronger Hall of Fame candidate. Albert Belle put up amazing numbers during the same time as Williams' peak years (389 home runs and 1,239 RBIs), however for every titanic blast there was a member of the media Belle annoyed, berated and antagonized. As a result, David Bell has a better chance of making the Hall than Albert.
Bernie Williams' entire body of work, from his success offensively and defensively in the regular season, longevity, record holding postseason accomplishments and likeable persona, make him not just a great centerfielder, but a Hall of Fame centerfielder.
Other current and former Yankees with visions of Cooperstown
Mariano Rivera, Randy Johnson, Alex Rodríguez, Derek Jeter — First-ballot Hall of Famers.
Mike Mussina — A borderline case. He probably won't get to 300 wins (he's at 236), 3,000 strikeouts and has yet to win a Cy Young award or 20 games in a season, but Mussina has been a frontline starter for well over a decade and boasts more career victories than Catfish Hunter and Don Drysdale. It's in Mussina's best interest to stay with the Yankees. He will increase his chances of racking up more regular season wins and postseason appearances. In the end, he will probably share company with Jack Morris and Bert Blyleven as the best starting pitchers in the era of the five-man rotation not in the Hall.
Goose Gossage — Bouncing around between teams late in his career is the only reason the top reliever of the 1970s and 80s, who didn't rely on three-out saves when his team was up by three runs, isn't in the Hall. Hopefully voters will re-examine Gossage in the wake of Sutter's election. He deserves to be there.
Jorge Posada — Being both an offensive and defensive contributor for four World Series champs helps, but he is a more than a few levels below Johnny Bench and Yogi Berra and a step behind Carlton Fisk and Gary Carter.
Don Mattingly — For a Yankee, his one postseason appearance (1995) is more of an impediment than his injury-shortened career. Just look at Kirby Puckett's plaque as proof. If he had just two more Don Mattingly-type seasons and led the Yankees to a title, these words wouldn't need to be written.
Gary Sheffield and Jason Giambi — MVP caliber players with an amazing stretch of years during the 1990s and early 2000s, but their alleged association with steroids ends any speculation.
George Steinbrenner — It will be interesting to see what happens a few years down the road. Will voters continue to see "The Boss" as a lighting rod or view him as the most recognized and successful owner in sports history? If there is a place in the Pro Football Hall of Fame for Al Davis, Steinbrenner certainly deserves a spot in Cooperstown.