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
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
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
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
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
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 …
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
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
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 …
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
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
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.