Re-imagining the Big Zone Sixties, revisited: Part 3
Our fresh look at the stats produced in the Swingin’ ’60s has so far encompassed the good and the very good. Now, to the main event: the greats.
All adjusted stat lines are presented in blue font. For our methodology, please see the References and Resources section below.
Top-notch tablesetters
Though he wouldn’t break out as a superstar until his trade to Cincinnati in 1972, Morgan was a terrific performer through this period.
Harry Walker was a generally successful manager, and had extraordinarily positive influence as a hitting coach on the career of Matty Alou, among others. But Walker’s slap-the-ball-on-the-ground approach just didn’t work with Morgan, as is made plain here: note the trough in batting average in 1969-71, the three seasons Morgan played under Walker.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1963 19 25 6 6 0 1 0 3 6 5 .240 .387 .320 .707 1964 20 37 4 7 0 0 0 0 7 6 .189 .321 .189 .510 1965 21 607 111 169 23 12 15 44 112 71 .279 .391 .433 .825 1966 22 430 66 126 15 8 6 46 103 40 .293 .429 .403 .832 1967 23 499 81 141 28 11 7 46 94 47 .283 .396 .424 .821 1968 24 20 7 5 0 1 0 0 8 4 .250 .470 .350 .820 1969 25 535 94 126 18 5 15 43 110 74 .236 .365 .372 .737 1970 26 548 102 147 28 9 8 52 102 55 .268 .383 .396 .779 1971 27 583 87 149 27 11 13 56 88 52 .256 .351 .407 .758
Among the more intriguing players in history, in many regards.
Clearly Brock was somewhat overrated; the Hall of Merit disagrees with the Hall of Fame, and didn’t elect him. Yet the HOM discussion thread on Brock was long, intricate, and fascinating, as the consideration of Brock’s case leads to any number of complicated questions: the balance between OBP, base-stealing, and extra-base power in generating leadoff-hitter value; is there such a thing as “leadoff-hitter value” anyway, or should hitters simply be judged as hitters; the balance between peak value and career value; the assessment and impact of left field defense; the importance of postseason performance in the HOF/HOM case, and on and on.
Suffice to say that Brock’s career defies easy categorization or disposal. What is certain is that he was an extraordinarily intelligent and dedicated athlete who achieved the absolute maximum out of his potential, and he was tremendously exciting to watch.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1961 22 11 1 1 0 0 0 0 1 3 .091 .167 .091 .258 1962 23 434 73 114 24 7 9 35 35 96 .263 .319 .412 .731 1963 24 553 87 147 20 11 10 41 36 113 .265 .310 .396 .706 1964 25 642 123 208 31 11 15 64 46 118 .324 .369 .480 .849 1965 26 638 118 189 37 8 18 76 52 108 .296 .349 .462 .812 1966 27 650 104 190 25 12 17 51 36 124 .293 .329 .445 .775 1967 28 697 125 214 34 12 23 84 28 101 .307 .334 .490 .824 1968 29 667 102 191 48 14 7 56 53 115 .287 .339 .431 .771 1969 30 655 97 195 33 10 12 47 50 115 .298 .349 .434 .783 1970 31 664 114 202 29 5 13 57 60 99 .304 .361 .422 .783 1971 32 640 126 200 37 7 7 61 76 107 .313 .385 .425 .810
As incredibly durable and consistent as any player in history, it’s essentially the case that the breakout season Rose achieved in 1965 was one he would replicate over and over for the next decade and a half. But a close look reveals some slight variations in the pattern: the up-to-30 Rose we see here didn’t draw as many walks as the older Rose would, and this Rose delivered more home run power.
Man, could he play.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1963 22 630 112 177 26 9 7 45 64 67 .281 .347 .383 .729 1964 23 522 71 145 14 2 4 38 42 47 .277 .330 .336 .667 1965 24 678 129 217 37 11 12 90 80 70 .320 .392 .461 .853 1966 25 662 107 213 40 5 18 77 43 57 .322 .363 .477 .840 1967 26 592 95 183 34 8 13 84 65 61 .309 .377 .460 .837 1968 27 634 104 218 44 6 11 54 65 70 .344 .405 .485 .890 1969 28 627 120 218 33 11 16 82 88 65 .348 .428 .512 .940 1970 29 649 120 205 37 9 15 52 73 64 .316 .385 .470 .855 1971 30 632 86 192 27 4 13 44 68 50 .304 .373 .421 .794
The 512 fraternity
Along with achieving an identical total of career home runs, these two all-time greats shared a common career shape: superstardom through their 20s, then a distinct drop-off to a good-but-not-great plateau. And in both cases, the apparent severity of that drop-off was amplified by the imposition of the big strike zone in 1963.
The quality of play Banks held for several years following his illness-plagued 1963 season was solid, but not star-quality. I’ve long maintained that the Cubs would have derived more value by not continuing to deploy Mr. Cub as the day-in, day-out regular at first base through those years, but instead sensibly weaving some decent left-handed bats in with his, resulting in perhaps 400-to-500 well-rested plate appearances per season from Banks.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1960 29 597 94 162 32 7 41 117 71 69 .271 .350 .554 .904 1961 30 511 75 142 22 4 29 80 54 75 .278 .346 .507 .853 1962 31 610 87 164 20 6 37 104 30 71 .269 .306 .503 .809 1963 32 436 45 102 21 1 20 71 45 68 .234 .305 .423 .729 1964 33 597 74 162 30 6 25 105 42 78 .272 .319 .470 .789 1965 34 618 87 168 26 3 31 117 64 59 .272 .340 .474 .814 1966 35 517 58 145 24 7 17 83 33 55 .280 .324 .450 .774 1967 36 579 75 164 27 4 25 105 31 86 .284 .320 .476 .796 1968 37 557 79 141 28 0 35 92 31 62 .254 .293 .494 .787 1969 38 565 60 143 19 2 23 106 42 101 .253 .309 .416 .725 1970 39 222 25 56 6 2 12 44 20 33 .252 .313 .459 .772 1971 40 83 4 16 2 0 3 6 6 14 .193 .247 .325 .572
Never as well-conditioned as Banks, Mathews was unable to sustain his Act II as extensively.
Mathews’ 1963 spike in walks was interesting, coming as it did simultaneously with his reduction in overall hitting robustness. Such a dynamic isn’t common, but neither is it extremely rare (see Willie Mays below); Bill James once surmised that it’s likely an effect of a veteran hitter discovering that he can’t get around on the good fastball like he used to, and so endeavoring to work the count to compensate.
That certainly might be true, but I suspect it isn’t necessarily so intentional. It just as well could be a case of the hitter fouling off a lot of pitches he once put into play, and so getting deeper into counts without trying to. And in the case of Mathews, it would appear that following 1963, pitchers learned that while he still had serious power, he was no longer a hitter they needed to handle with the extreme caution they once had.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1960 28 548 108 152 19 7 39 124 111 113 .277 .397 .551 .948 1961 29 572 103 175 23 6 32 91 93 95 .306 .402 .535 .937 1962 30 536 106 142 25 6 29 90 101 90 .265 .381 .496 .877 1963 31 553 91 150 28 4 25 93 143 110 .271 .421 .474 .895 1964 32 507 92 122 20 1 25 82 98 93 .240 .363 .434 .797 1965 33 551 85 142 24 0 35 105 84 102 .258 .357 .494 .851 1966 34 456 80 117 22 4 18 59 73 76 .257 .359 .439 .799 1967 35 440 59 107 17 2 18 63 73 82 .243 .351 .411 .762 1968 36 52 4 11 0 0 3 9 6 11 .212 .296 .407 .703
Latin line-drivers
Both of these free-swingers delivered splendid power while spraying base hits to all fields, and both saw their careers curtailed by severe knee trouble. Neither quite made the Hall of Merit.
Perhaps we’ll never know the truth for certain, but Baseball Reference has this Cuban’s birthdate as two years earlier than it was believed when he was playing. That certainly makes sense, as it helps to explain the degree to which he sprang forth as a rookie in spectacularly fully-developed form.
One wonders what sort of a major league performer Oliva might have been in the several seasons prior to 1964; he sure looks as though he was more than ready to hit up a storm. In 1961 he hit .410 in Class D; in ’62 .350 in Class A; and in ’63 .304 in Triple-A, all with good power.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1962 23 9 3 4 1 0 0 3 3 2 .444 .583 .556 1.139 1963 24 7 0 3 0 0 0 1 0 2 .429 .429 .429 .858 1964 25 681 121 226 45 9 35 104 39 63 .331 .368 .580 .948 1965 26 583 118 192 42 5 18 108 64 59 .330 .396 .510 .905 1966 27 630 109 199 34 7 28 96 48 67 .315 .364 .523 .887 1967 28 563 84 167 36 6 19 92 51 57 .297 .355 .482 .837 1968 29 475 60 141 25 5 20 75 52 57 .297 .367 .497 .864 1969 30 637 97 197 39 4 24 101 45 66 .309 .355 .496 .851 1970 31 628 96 204 36 7 23 107 38 67 .325 .364 .514 .878 1971 32 487 73 164 30 3 22 81 25 44 .337 .369 .546 .915
His triples column doesn’t show it, but Cepeda ran quite well for a big man. Before his knee surgery in 1965, Cepeda stole 92 bases in 137 attempts (67.2 percent) in seven seasons, and as late as 1969, he stole 12 bases in 17 attempts.
Moreover, though he combined just about every attribute likely to contribute to grounding into a lot of double plays—a right-handed cleanup hitter, never asked to bunt, rarely taking a walk, not striking out all that much—he never led the NL in that category, and only once in his NL career hit into more than 18. Only in 1973, as a 35-year-old designated hitter, did he finally lead the league in double plays, with 24. Contemporaries such as Hank Aaron and Roberto Clemente, both noted for good speed, were consistently more likely than Cepeda to be doubled up.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1960 22 569 81 169 36 3 24 96 34 91 .297 .343 .497 .840 1961 23 585 105 182 28 4 46 142 39 91 .311 .362 .609 .971 1962 24 625 105 191 26 1 35 114 37 97 .306 .347 .518 .865 1963 25 586 111 190 35 4 37 107 43 65 .325 .370 .589 .960 1964 26 535 83 167 28 2 34 107 50 77 .313 .371 .565 .936 1965 27 34 1 6 1 0 1 6 3 8 .176 .257 .309 .567 1966 28 507 77 157 27 0 22 81 44 73 .310 .365 .494 .859 1967 29 570 101 190 39 0 28 123 72 70 .334 .408 .547 .955 1968 30 606 79 155 27 2 18 81 50 89 .256 .312 .395 .707 1969 31 573 74 147 28 2 22 88 55 76 .257 .325 .428 .753 1970 32 567 87 173 33 0 34 111 47 75 .305 .365 .543 .908 1971 33 250 31 69 10 1 14 44 22 29 .276 .330 .492 .822
Prodigious power
One thing younger fans may not be aware of regarding Stargell is what a tremendous throwing arm he had. He was always slow, and not a good defensive outfielder overall, but as a young player he wielded a howitzer. Had he come up with just about any team other than the 1960s Pirates (who already had a pretty good right fielder), Stargell would have played right field, not left.
Stargell’s career took a rather unusual shape. In his 20s he was a good hitter, but not a great one (aside from 1966), and it wouldn’t have been at all surprising to see him fade once he passed 30, dropping back into a part-time role, maybe getting traded around a few times.
But instead, at the age of 31 Stargell suddenly broke through as a superstar slugger. He maintained that exceptional level of production for several years, and then fought off injuries and remained a highly productive hitter until he was 40.
In the modern era, such a career shape (and especially one from such a hugely strong athlete as Stargell) would undoubtedly bring forth speculations about steroids. But the historical existence of quite a few career patterns along these lines (see such variations on the theme as Gavvy Cravath, Bob Elliott, Jim Hickman, and Bill Robinson) is one of the factors undermining the persuasiveness of claims that mid-career or late-career improvement in a modern-day hitter is suspiciously indicative of PED usage.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1962 22 31 1 9 3 1 0 4 3 10 .290 .353 .452 .805 1963 23 307 38 77 12 6 12 52 22 79 .251 .301 .447 .747 1964 24 426 59 120 20 7 23 86 20 85 .281 .313 .524 .837 1965 25 539 75 151 26 8 30 118 45 118 .280 .335 .524 .860 1966 26 491 93 159 31 0 36 113 55 101 .324 .392 .610 1.003 1967 27 467 60 130 19 6 22 81 77 95 .278 .381 .486 .867 1968 28 439 63 107 16 1 26 74 54 97 .244 .327 .465 .792 1969 29 522 89 160 31 6 29 92 61 120 .307 .382 .556 .938 1970 30 474 70 125 18 3 31 85 44 119 .264 .329 .511 .840 1971 31 511 104 151 26 0 48 125 83 154 .295 .398 .628 1.026
On the other hand, this guy (who went by “Richie” all though this period) was a phenomenal hitter from the get-go. But his attention to conditioning was, shall we say, less than intense, and at the same age Stargell was climbing to a new peak, Allen was rapidly breaking down.
His raw stats are impressive enough, but this exercise makes it even more plain just what a ferocious bat the young Allen wielded. He was an extremely scary presence at the plate.
I’m certainly not in the camp of Allen “apologists” who insist that he was largely blameless in his endless confrontations with management, and merely a victim of racism and misunderstanding. While racism and misunderstanding no doubt abounded, appallingly immature, selfish, and irresponsible behavior on Allen’s part did as well.
That said, the thumbs-down verdict of Hall of Fame voters is nuts. Even accounting for the trainload of baggage Allen toted, he was a player of rare greatness. The Hall of Merit voted him in on the first ballot.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1963 21 24 7 7 2 1 0 2 0 5 .292 .292 .458 .750 1964 22 640 138 209 40 13 32 101 77 128 .327 .399 .580 .979 1965 23 626 103 194 33 14 22 94 85 139 .310 .393 .513 .906 1966 24 531 124 173 26 10 44 122 79 126 .325 .412 .662 1.075 1967 25 469 98 148 33 10 25 85 87 108 .315 .422 .590 1.012 1968 26 526 96 142 18 9 36 100 85 149 .271 .372 .546 .919 1969 27 438 79 126 23 3 32 89 64 144 .288 .375 .573 .948 1970 28 459 88 128 17 5 34 101 71 118 .279 .377 .560 .937 1971 29 549 82 162 24 1 23 90 93 113 .295 .395 .468 .863
Back-to-back Cubs
Hitting No. 3 and No. 4 in the same lineup virtually every day for more than a decade, it’s just about impossible for two players to be more easily comparable; they played nearly their entire careers under identical conditions.
Given that, taking a look at the stats each compiled, can you make a good argument for Williams to be in the Hall of Fame, but not Santo? Especially when considering that Williams was a left fielder with so-so defensive ability, while Santo was a five-time Gold Glove-winning third baseman?
To be fair, we don’t see Williams’ best year with the bat here, as it occurred in 1972.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1960 22 47 4 13 0 2 2 7 5 12 .277 .346 .489 .835 1961 23 529 75 147 20 7 25 86 45 70 .278 .338 .484 .822 1962 24 618 94 184 22 8 22 91 70 72 .298 .369 .466 .835 1963 25 619 96 182 38 9 28 105 79 72 .294 .373 .518 .892 1964 26 653 111 209 41 2 36 108 68 78 .320 .384 .556 .940 1965 27 653 127 211 41 6 37 119 75 70 .323 .393 .577 .970 1966 28 655 111 186 24 5 32 101 80 57 .284 .362 .483 .844 1967 29 641 102 183 22 12 31 93 79 62 .285 .363 .502 .866 1968 30 649 101 192 31 8 33 108 55 49 .296 .352 .522 .874 1969 31 642 103 188 33 10 21 95 59 70 .293 .355 .474 .829 1970 32 636 137 205 34 4 42 129 72 65 .322 .391 .586 .977 1971 33 594 86 179 27 5 28 93 77 44 .301 .383 .505 .888
Santo’s peak came rather early, at ages 24 through 27. My goodness, what a peak it was; through that four-year stretch Santo was almost as great as a third baseman can be. I’d take Mike Schmidt over Santo at his peak, and perhaps Eddie Mathews, but that’s about it, and that’s what you might call pretty swift company.
For what it’s worth, the Hall of Merit elected both Williams and Santo, the latter on the first ballot.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1960 20 347 44 87 24 2 9 44 31 44 .251 .311 .409 .720 1961 21 578 84 164 32 6 23 83 73 77 .284 .362 .479 .841 1962 22 604 44 137 20 4 17 83 65 94 .227 .302 .358 .660 1963 23 637 87 194 30 6 28 109 48 85 .305 .354 .502 .856 1964 24 599 104 192 35 13 33 126 99 89 .321 .417 .588 1.006 1965 25 615 97 180 31 4 36 112 102 101 .293 .393 .534 .927 1966 26 568 103 182 22 8 33 104 110 72 .320 .430 .562 .993 1967 27 593 118 183 24 4 34 108 111 95 .309 .417 .536 .953 1968 28 583 95 148 18 3 29 108 111 98 .253 .373 .442 .815 1969 29 575 97 166 18 4 29 123 96 97 .289 .384 .485 .869 1970 30 555 83 148 30 4 26 114 92 108 .267 .369 .476 .845 1971 31 555 77 148 22 1 21 88 79 95 .267 .354 .423 .777
Rifleman right fielders
The skill profiles of these two are divergent in several important ways:
– Kaline burst into prominence as a star at age 20, and then never topped that performance, while Clemente struggled for several years before blossoming at age 25, and not peaking until his early 30s.
– Kaline exhibited more power, and was a very patient hitter who made reliable contact, while Clemente was extraordinary in the manner in which he didn’t manage the strike zone well at all (a very high proportion of his infrequent walks were intentional), yet still delivered a blistering batting average.
– Clemente was fairly durable, while Kaline was quite fragile.
But their similarities are uncanny:
– Both were born in 1934, four months apart.
– Kaline had zero minor league development, and Clemente very close to that.
– Both played their entire major league career with a single ballclub.
– Both were exceptional defensive right fielders, routinely racking up Gold Gloves, with high-caliber arms (especially Clemente’s) and sufficient range to handle center field when called upon.
– Both are regarded as godlike by fans of their own clubs, but in truth both were a shade below the best players of the era.
And their bottom-line performances are amazingly similar:
– Kaline’s career OPS+ was 134, Clemente’s 130.
– Kaline earned .156 Win Shares per game, Clemente .155.
This exercise shines a spotlight on just how extraordinary Kaline’s walk-to-strikeout ratio was, especially for a hitter delivering his power.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1960 25 551 77 153 29 4 15 68 65 47 .278 .354 .426 .780 1961 26 586 116 190 41 7 19 82 66 42 .324 .393 .515 .908 1962 27 398 78 121 16 6 29 94 47 39 .304 .376 .593 .969 1963 28 558 98 179 25 3 30 112 62 44 .321 .389 .537 .926 1964 29 531 85 160 33 5 19 75 87 47 .301 .399 .488 .887 1965 30 403 80 116 19 2 20 80 83 45 .289 .410 .493 .903 1966 31 484 94 143 30 1 32 97 94 61 .296 .410 .561 .971 1967 32 464 104 147 29 2 28 86 96 44 .316 .433 .567 1.000 1968 33 331 54 98 15 1 11 59 64 36 .295 .409 .446 .855 1969 34 456 74 124 17 0 21 69 54 61 .272 .346 .447 .793 1970 35 467 64 130 24 4 16 71 77 49 .278 .377 .450 .827 1971 36 405 69 119 19 2 15 54 82 57 .294 .416 .462 .878
For a guy who seemed to be constantly suffering from some nagging injury or another, Clemente sure didn’t sit out many games.
Forbes Field unquestionably shaped Clemente’s statistical profile. In a neutral ballpark, he’d have hit more homers and fewer triples, and his batting average wouldn’t have been quite so high. But it wasn’t an extreme distortion; Clemente was genuinely an exquisite all-fields line-drive hitter with moderate power.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1960 25 570 89 179 22 6 16 94 39 72 .314 .357 .458 .815 1961 26 572 100 201 30 10 23 89 35 59 .351 .390 .559 .949 1962 27 538 95 168 28 9 10 74 35 73 .312 .352 .454 .806 1963 28 608 85 200 24 8 19 84 36 59 .329 .366 .488 .853 1964 29 630 105 219 42 7 13 96 59 81 .348 .404 .500 .904 1965 30 597 101 202 22 14 11 72 50 72 .338 .389 .478 .867 1966 31 646 116 210 33 11 32 132 53 101 .325 .376 .558 .935 1967 32 593 114 217 27 10 25 122 47 95 .366 .413 .575 .988 1968 33 508 82 152 19 12 20 63 59 71 .299 .372 .501 .873 1969 34 507 87 175 20 12 19 91 56 73 .345 .411 .544 .955 1970 35 412 65 145 22 10 14 60 38 66 .352 .407 .556 .963 1971 36 522 82 178 29 8 13 86 26 65 .341 .370 .502 .872
Superstars
These adjusted stats would give McCovey a career home run total of 542, or 21 more than his actual. And during that six-year sustained peak from 1965 through 1970, his lowest OPS would be .955.
McCovey looked all wrong at the plate. He moved his back foot for no fathomable purpose, and his violent swing had an oddly awkward stiffness. But, ye gods, did that bizarre approach yield results.
He served up home runs in two distinct varieties: soaring rainmakers that climbed and climbed and climbed and looked as though they would never come down, and vicious shots that were beyond the fence with the crack of the bat. Once an interviewer asked McCovey about the assistance of Candlestick Park’s swirling winds on his home run output, and McCovey’s reply, delivered in his customary cheerful, patient Alabama drawl was classic: “I don’t need no wind. When I hit ’em, they go out.”
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1960 22 260 37 62 15 3 13 51 45 53 .238 .349 .469 .818 1961 23 328 59 89 12 3 18 50 37 60 .271 .350 .491 .841 1962 24 229 41 67 6 1 20 54 29 35 .293 .368 .590 .958 1963 25 570 114 164 20 5 48 113 58 110 .288 .353 .596 .949 1964 26 367 61 83 15 1 20 60 70 68 .227 .351 .434 .785 1965 27 546 103 155 18 4 43 102 102 109 .284 .396 .568 .964 1966 28 508 94 154 27 6 40 106 88 93 .303 .406 .615 1.021 1967 29 461 81 131 18 4 34 101 82 102 .284 .392 .563 .955 1968 30 529 90 159 17 4 40 116 83 66 .301 .396 .573 .968 1969 31 491 101 157 26 2 45 126 121 66 .320 .453 .656 1.109 1970 32 495 98 143 39 2 39 126 137 75 .289 .444 .612 1.056 1971 33 329 45 91 13 0 18 70 64 57 .277 .396 .480 .876
The Killer “lost” 23 home runs to the Big Zone; his adjusted career total would be 596.
In this exercise he puts together back-to-back 50+ homer seasons in 1963-64; he would have been just the second player in history to accomplish that. The first was Babe Ruth (who did it twice).
Another interesting aspect of this exercise on Killebrew is the manner it which it reveals his adjusted 1967 stat line and his actual 1969 stat line as uncannily alike, straddling his injury-marred 1968.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1960 24 442 84 122 19 1 31 80 71 106 .276 .375 .534 .909 1961 25 541 94 156 20 7 46 122 107 109 .288 .405 .606 1.011 1962 26 552 85 134 21 1 48 126 106 142 .243 .366 .545 .911 1963 27 520 97 138 19 0 50 106 83 97 .266 .367 .588 .955 1964 28 583 105 162 12 1 54 123 107 125 .278 .390 .579 .970 1965 29 405 86 112 17 1 28 83 83 64 .277 .400 .527 .928 1966 30 575 98 166 28 1 43 122 119 91 .289 .411 .566 .977 1967 31 553 116 153 25 1 48 125 151 103 .277 .432 .589 1.021 1968 32 297 44 64 7 2 19 44 81 65 .217 .384 .444 .828 1969 33 555 106 153 20 2 49 140 145 84 .276 .427 .584 1.011 1970 34 527 96 143 20 1 41 113 128 84 .271 .411 .546 .957 1971 35 500 61 127 19 1 28 119 114 96 .254 .386 .464 .850
The story is well-known of Yaz’s 1966-67 weightlifting regimen that transformed his doubles power into home run power. What seems to be less well-remembered is just what kind of doubles power Yastrzemski had been demonstrating: yowza, was he a wicked line-drive hitter.
He would be unable to sustain the new-found megapower, but in the 1967 and 1970 seasons, at least, Yaz was an astoundingly great player.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1961 21 583 71 155 31 6 11 80 50 96 .266 .324 .396 .720 1962 22 646 99 191 43 6 19 94 66 82 .296 .363 .469 .832 1963 23 577 101 190 42 3 15 75 110 67 .330 .437 .493 .930 1964 24 573 85 170 30 9 17 74 87 83 .297 .389 .469 .858 1965 25 500 86 160 47 3 22 80 81 54 .320 .415 .559 .974 1966 26 601 90 172 41 2 18 88 97 56 .286 .385 .449 .834 1967 27 586 124 196 33 4 48 134 105 64 .335 .436 .652 1.088 1968 28 545 100 168 34 2 25 82 137 83 .309 .448 .517 .965 1969 29 603 96 154 28 2 40 111 101 91 .255 .362 .507 .869 1970 30 566 125 186 29 0 40 102 128 66 .329 .452 .592 1.044 1971 31 508 75 129 21 2 15 70 106 60 .254 .381 .392 .773
The inner circle
The Mick’s steady breakdown over the decade of the 1960s seemed even more severe than it was due to the influence of the Big Zone, but it was genuinely severe. Yet it’s a measure of how stratospheric Mantle’s peak had been that even though he lost all his speed and a great deal of both his power and his capacity to hit for average, he remained a highly productive offensive player to the very end. Most of that productivity in his final years was rooted in his exceptional strike zone judgment, the one element of his game Mantle never lost at all.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1960 28 527 119 145 17 6 40 94 111 125 .275 .399 .558 .957 1961 29 514 132 163 16 6 54 128 126 112 .317 .448 .687 1.135 1962 30 377 96 121 15 1 30 89 122 78 .321 .486 .605 1.091 1963 31 174 44 56 8 0 17 39 46 30 .322 .464 .655 1.120 1964 32 471 102 147 26 2 39 123 114 95 .311 .446 .622 1.068 1965 33 365 49 96 13 1 21 51 84 70 .262 .401 .475 .875 1966 34 337 44 100 13 1 25 62 66 70 .296 .411 .566 .977 1967 35 444 70 112 18 0 24 61 124 105 .253 .415 .457 .872 1968 36 439 63 107 15 1 20 60 122 90 .244 .409 .417 .826
Cincinnati owner/GM Bill DeWitt’s decision to trade Robinson following the 1965 was based on DeWitt’s judgment that Robinson was “an old 29,” beginning to decline. And looking purely at the raw stats, such a conclusion wasn’t irrational: Robinson had endured an injury-nagged off-year in 1963, and neither his 1964 nor ’65 performances, while marvelous, were in the same realm as the stupendous heights he’d scaled in 1961 and ’62.
But alas DeWitt would have been well-advised to take into consideration the post-1962 change in league scoring context.
Thresholds have a profound influence on the way all of us interpret data; we make good use of them as organizing and clarifying tools. Looking only at Robinson’s raw stats, in 1964 he fell short of the thresholds of 30 home runs and 100 RBIs, and in 1965 he fell short of the threshold of a .300 average, while also reaching, for the first time, the threshold of 100 strikeouts. Those signals made Robinson’s stat lines from those seasons stand out as declining. But viewed in the form we see here, Robinson’s 1964 and ’65 seasons meet all the positive thresholds, and miss the negative one, and thus look like just two more great years.
Certainly no one could have been expected to foresee Robinson’s towering 1966 performance. But even if he’d just continued to produce at 1964-65 rates, he’d have remained a major star.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1960 24 464 86 138 33 6 31 83 82 67 .297 .407 .595 1.002 1961 25 545 117 176 32 7 37 124 71 64 .323 .404 .611 1.015 1962 26 609 134 208 51 2 39 136 76 62 .342 .421 .624 1.045 1963 27 487 87 130 20 3 23 101 94 64 .267 .385 .463 .848 1964 28 575 114 181 40 6 32 106 91 62 .315 .409 .572 .981 1965 29 589 121 179 35 5 36 125 81 93 .304 .388 .565 .953 1966 30 583 135 189 36 2 54 135 100 83 .324 .424 .670 1.094 1967 31 485 92 155 24 7 33 104 82 78 .319 .418 .603 1.021 1968 32 425 76 117 28 1 17 58 84 78 .276 .396 .464 .860 1969 33 539 111 166 19 5 32 100 88 62 .308 .415 .540 .955 1970 34 471 88 144 24 1 25 78 69 70 .306 .398 .520 .918 1971 35 455 82 128 16 2 28 99 72 62 .281 .384 .510 .894
Bad Henry’s consistency and durability seem beyond the limits of mortal capability. Frank Robinson, great as he was, got hurt or had a minor slump once in a while, but those were concepts unknown to Aaron.
Okay, okay, here’s something: his 1964 season is the closest thing one can find to an anomaly in Aaron’s record. Both his strikeout rate and his home run rate were noticeably down that year, while his batting average was among his best. I’ve never found confirmation for it (though to be honest I’ve never looked very hard), but I’ve always suspected that for much or all of 1964 Aaron was dealing with some sort of nagging injury that inhibited his ability to drive the ball (perhaps a sore wrist), and he adapted by becoming a bit more contact-oriented. If so, all that does is illustrate what an amazing hitter Aaron was.
Or, it may be nothing more than a slight fluke, as his numbers that year weren’t all that far out of line with those he put up with machinelike regularity.
How about this for consistency and durability: in the 15 seasons from 1955 through 1969, Aaron’s age-21 through age-35 seasons, his worst year was probably 1966—a year in which Aaron tied his career best in homers, led the majors in RBIs, stole 21 bases in 24 attempts, had an OPS+ of 142, and earned 27 Win Shares.
This exercise yields a career home run total of 775 for Aaron, and still without the benefit of a solitary 50-homer season.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1960 26 590 102 172 20 11 40 126 60 63 .292 .352 .566 .918 1961 27 603 115 197 39 10 34 120 56 64 .327 .381 .594 .975 1962 28 592 127 191 28 6 45 128 66 73 .323 .390 .618 1.008 1963 29 639 134 209 30 4 48 144 90 87 .327 .410 .615 1.025 1964 30 577 114 194 31 2 26 105 72 43 .337 .410 .536 .946 1965 31 577 121 188 42 1 35 98 69 75 .326 .398 .586 .984 1966 32 610 129 175 24 1 48 140 88 89 .286 .376 .568 .944 1967 33 607 125 191 39 3 43 121 73 90 .315 .388 .601 .990 1968 34 613 93 181 35 4 32 95 74 57 .295 .371 .521 .892 1969 35 547 100 164 30 3 44 97 87 47 .300 .396 .607 1.003 1970 36 516 103 154 26 1 38 118 74 63 .298 .385 .574 .959 1971 37 495 95 162 22 3 47 118 71 58 .327 .410 .669 1.079
He was just a hair below Aaron’s astonishing standard of consistency and durability, but Say Hey …
In the 13 seasons from 1954 through 1966, Mays’s age-23 through age-35 seasons, his worst year was 1956—a year in which Mays was seventh in the majors in slugging, was third in the league in total bases, stole 40 bases in 50 attempts, had an OPS+ of 146, and earned 27 Win Shares.
Had the Big Zone not interfered:
– In 1961-66 Mays would have put together six consecutive 40-plus-home run seasons, becoming the first National Leaguer to do so, and nearly matching Ruth’s major league record of seven.
– In 1964-65 Mays would have followed up Harmon Killebrew’s 1963-64 back-to-back 50-plus-homer seasons with a set of his own, becoming the first National Leaguer to do so (the next would be Mark McGwire in the 1990s).
– Killebrew and Mays both exceeding 50 big flies in 1964 would mark the first time in history that had been simultaneously achieved in both leagues, a circumstance not to be repeated until 1998.
– In 1965 Mays would have set a new National League record with 57 home runs.
– Mays would become just the second player in history (the first was Ruth) to achieve three 50-plus-homer seasons.
Year Age AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB SO BA OBP SLG OPS 1960 29 595 107 190 29 12 29 103 61 70 .319 .381 .555 .936 1961 30 572 129 176 32 3 40 123 81 77 .308 .393 .584 .977 1962 31 621 130 189 36 5 49 141 78 85 .304 .384 .615 .999 1963 32 603 127 194 34 7 42 114 76 77 .322 .398 .610 1.008 1964 33 585 134 178 22 9 52 123 95 67 .304 .401 .639 1.040 1965 34 565 130 184 22 3 57 124 88 66 .326 .416 .680 1.096 1966 35 558 109 165 30 4 41 114 81 75 .296 .385 .584 .969 1967 36 491 92 133 23 2 24 77 59 85 .271 .349 .474 .823 1968 37 504 93 150 21 5 25 87 77 75 .297 .391 .510 .901 1969 38 403 64 114 17 3 13 58 49 71 .283 .362 .437 .799 1970 39 478 94 139 15 2 28 83 79 90 .291 .390 .506 .896 1971 40 417 82 113 24 5 18 61 112 123 .271 .425 .482 .907
References & Resources
Some notes on methodology:
The precise percentage differences derived between MLB 1963-68 and 1960-62/69-71 averages:
Runs: 10.5873%
Hits: 3.9586%
Doubles: 4.958%
Triples: 1.726%
Home Runs: 10.2001%
Walks: 15.4743%
Strikeouts: -7.883% (yielding a multiplier of 0.92693)
The % change in triples is too small to show up in any individual player season. I think this makes intuitive sense: in a higher-scoring 1963-68 era, there certainly would have been more opportunities to stretch doubles into triples, but correspondingly, less incentive to take the risk.
An impact of a greater rate of hits is an increase in at-bats. I used a simple method to increase at-bats: every batter’s at-bats are increased by his number of increased hits. Outs are constant, of course, and I assume as well a constant rate of double plays and baserunning outs – probably not exactly proper assumptions, but close enough for our purposes. What the increase in both hits and at-bats for batters yields is generally about an 8-point increase in batting average in the .240-to-.300 range – that is, a .270 hitter usually emerges as a .278 hitter.