Alomar and Blyleven Elected to Hall of Fame

Jim Mone/Associated Press

Bert Blyleven pitched for the Twins for 11 of his

22 seasons, wearing a cap with both the

Minnesota “M” and the “TC” for Twin Cities.

January 5, 2011
By Tyler Kepner
NY Times

By the time Roberto Alomar started his major league career, in 1988, Bert Blyleven had nearly completed his. Blyleven pitched three more seasons, quietly compiling some of the more impressive statistics in major league history, as Alomar embarked on a career as one of the most dynamic second basemen the game has seen.

Both were elected to the Hall of Fame on Wednesday, Alomar in his second year on the ballot, and Blyleven on his 14th. Alomar received 523 of 581 votes, for 90 percent, while Blyleven finished with 463, for 79.7 percent. Candidates needed 436 votes, or 75 percent, to be enshrined.

Barry Larkin was third in the voting, at 62.1 percent, followed by Jack Morris (53.5 percent), Lee Smith (45.3 percent) and Jeff Bagwell (41.7 percent). In his first election after admitting to steroid use, the former slugger Mark McGwire dropped to 19.7 percent, his lowest share in five appearances on the ballot. Rafael Palmeiro, who hit 569 homers but failed a drug test in 2005, received only 11 percent.

Alomar and Blyleven narrowly missed induction last year, when Alomar collected 397 votes and Blyleven 400, with 405 needed. With both coming so close last year, it was no surprise that they made it this time.

Of the 21 players to receive 70 percent to 75 percent of the vote in previous elections, 16 were voted in the next year. The other five also made it to Cooperstown eventually, mostly through the veterans committee.

Jim Mone/Associated Press
Roberto Alomar played three stand-out seasons in
Baltimore after five years with Toronto.  He
played for seven teams in his career — 13 years
 in the American League and 6 in the National.

But after so many years on the ballot, chances are Blyleven was taking nothing for granted. He first appeared in 1998, collecting only 17.5 percent of the vote. The next year, that figure dropped to 14.1 percent; a candidate must have at least 5 percent to remain under consideration, with a maximum of 15 years on the ballot.

Blyleven did not receive even half the votes until 2006, his ninth year of eligibility. But many bloggers mounted an aggressive and persuasive campaign on his behalf, emphasizing Blyleven's value beyond his mediocre .534 winning percentage.

Blyleven ranks high in two categories that show a pitcher's dominance: strikeouts (fifth, with 3,701) and shutouts (ninth, with 60). Every other pitcher in the top 20 in shutouts is in the Hall of Fame, as is every other eligible pitcher in the top 17 in strikeouts.

He also ranks highly in a much newer statistic, Wins Above Replacement, which attempts to show how many victories a player produces compared with a replacement who might be called up from Class AAA. According to baseballreference.com, Blyleven ranks 13th on that list, and was the only eligible pitcher among the top 27 who was not already in Cooperstown.

Alomar's case was more obvious to voters. He made 12 All-Star teams in a row, from 1990 through 2001, while winning 10 Gold Gloves at second base. Like Blyleven, he played for two World Series winners and generally excelled in the postseason.

Signed by the San Diego Padres out of Puerto Rico in 1985, Alomar spent his prime years with three teams — the Toronto Blue Jays, the Baltimore Orioles and the Cleveland Indians — helping all of them reach the playoffs.

Alomar is one of only two players to have a .300 average and at least 2,700 hits, 200 home runs and 450 stolen bases. (The other is the Hall of Famer Paul Molitor.)

Alomar's productivity came to an abrupt halt after a trade to the Mets before the 2002 season, and some voters may have penalized Alomar for spitting in the face of the umpire John Hirschbeck during an argument in 1996. But Hirschbeck has forgiven Alomar, and many other greats have faded late in their careers.

After a one-year wait, Alomar has made it, with a pitcher who waited a whole lot longer.

From the NY Times; 1/5/2011

Willie's Giant Christmas Present



Reuters

Willie Mays at the Giants victory parade in San Francisco last month.

Wall Street Journal
December 24, 2010

This Year, the Greatest Living Ballplayer Finally Got His Wish: a San Francisco World Title

By James S. Hirsch

There were moments during the San Francisco Giants' final World Series game last month that Willie Mays could simply no longer watch. In his den, amid the framed magazine covers, the yellowing photographs, and the sturdy plaques that line his walls, he would lift himself out of his easy chair and take his poodle ("Giant Too") for a walk.

"He was a different Willie," says Jessie Goins, one of several friends who watched the game with Mr. Mays at his Bay Area home. He said very little, even during the most exciting moments. When Edgar Renteria hit the three-run homer in the seventh inning of the clinching Game 5, Mr. Mays's friends cheered, but, Ms. Goins recalls, "Willie showed no emotion."

Of course not. There were still three innings left, and Willie had been close before.

"I didn't think we'd ever win a World Series," he would later say.

Willie Mays, who turns 80 in May, is the greatest living ballplayer. He's also the link that connects the Giant championship team of today with its rich heritage in New York, a reminder of both the glory and the disappointments of the franchise. As a lifetime employee with the Giants, Mr. Mays now serves as an ambassador for the organization—visiting minor-league teams, hobnobbing with investors, or attending every home game at AT&T Park, which itself is a semi-shrine to the Say Hey Kid. The park's address is 24 Willie Mays Plaza, and a magnificent nine-foot bronze statue of Mr. Mays stands in front.

Willie won a World Series ring in 1954, when his signature over-the-shoulder catch in Game 1 propelled the New York Giants to a championship over the Cleveland Indians. Other World Series triumphs would surely come, but not in New York. In 1958, the Giants and the Brooklyn Dodgers moved to California, with the media focusing on one player. "WILLIE MAYS GOES WEST," cried the cover blurb of Look magazine. (Winston Churchill appeared on the cover as well.) Mr. Mays's job was to sell tickets, win games and bring a championship to the West Coast. He did the first two, and a World Series trophy did come quickly to California—unfortunately for Giant fans, it went to Los Angeles, in 1959.

Mr. Mays got the Giants close, never more so than in 1962, when they played the Yankees in the World Series. Down by one run in the ninth inning of the seventh game, Mr. Mays doubled a runner to third. Mr. Mays stood 180 feet away from bringing a World Series to San Francisco, but the next hitter lined out to end the game.

Frustration only mounted in the 1960s when—despite having future Hall of Famers like Willie McCovey, Orlando Cepeda, Juan Marichal and Gaylord Perry—the Giants always came up short. During one stretch, they finished in second place four consecutive years.

The Giants won their division with Mr. Mays in 1971 but were eliminated in the playoffs, and then Willie was traded the next year to the New York Mets. He retired in 1973, with only one World Series ring.

Ask Mr. Mays about any regrets in baseball or in life, and he waves off the question. He only thinks about the positives, a protective reflex that has served him well. "I had my time in baseball," he says, "and I enjoyed every single day of it." Not really. He had plenty of bad days, but he would no more acknowledge them than he would acknowledge a burden that he has carried all these years: San Francisco had counted on him to deliver a championship, but for all his heroic efforts, he had not delivered. Nor had any other team.

These days, Mr. Mays follows the games as closely as he can. He has glaucoma, so from his private box at the park, he watches the action on a television. He leaves early to avoid the onrush of fans and listens to the rest of the game on the car radio.

Mr. Mays is happiest when he visits the clubhouse before ball games, holding court with players young enough to be his grandchildren. He sits at a card table and asks the players to sign it, and he'll bring the table home as a souvenir. He doesn't care for the loud music, but he is nonjudgmental about the players. Asked if Major League Baseball is ready for an openly gay player, Mr. Mays says, "Can he hit?"

Associated Press

Mr. Mays threw out the first pitch before

a playoff game against the Phillies.

This past season, he particularly enjoyed catcher Buster Posey, who reminded Willie of himself. Like Willie, Mr. Posey was called up to the big leagues at the end of May in his rookie season, and Mr. Posey—in Willie's view—is a "thinking player." He attributed the Giants success to their unity. "There were no stars out there," he says. "They were 25 guys fighting together. Very simple."

Before Game 1 of the Series, Mr. Mays was supposed to throw out the first pitch, with several other Giants, but a bad cold forced him to stay at home, and he was still a bit under the weather when he shoved on his Giants cap and settled in to watch Game 5 at his home. According to people who were there, the volume was turned high, and Mr. Mays stoically watched the pitching duel with Giant Too on his lap. When the last out was recorded, Mr. Mays cracked a smile, and Ms. Goins rushed for the Mumm Champagne chilling in the refrigerator. But before she could return, Mr. Mays was gone.

He went into another room and stayed by himself for five minutes. When he returned, his eyes were red.

"Can I spray some Champagne on you?" Ms. Goins asked.

Mr. Mays said no—he doesn't drink—and he asked for some tea instead.

The telephone calls started to come from reporters. "Oh, man, I don't get overly excited about baseball," he told them, "but looking at these kids and how excited they were, I had some tears in my eyes."

His cold notwithstanding, Willie Mays slept well that night. San Francisco had its first World Series.

—James S. Hirsch is the author of "Willie Mays: The Life, the Legend."

Only One Player Has Won MVP, Cy Young, and Rookie of the Year

And That Player is Don Newcombe

Dodger Pitcher Don Newcombe, center, pictured with
Jackie Robinson, left, and Roy Campanella


From baseballlibrary.com

The first outstanding black pitcher in ML history, Newcombe is the only player to have won the Rookie of the Year, MVP, and Cy Young Awards. Physically imposing, the 6'4" 220-lb Newk was sometimes criticized as lethargic, but his explosive fastball was likened by Ted Williams to those of AL stars Bob Feller and Virgil Trucks. He anchored the pitching rotation for the "Boys of Summer" Dodgers and was one of baseball's dominant forces from 1949 to 1956.

After one season with the Negro League Newark Eagles, Newcombe signed with the Dodgers, arriving in Brooklyn in 1949. He immediately helped the Dodgers to a pennant. He shut out the Reds 3-0 in his May 22 debut and finished 17-8, 3.17, with a league-leading five shutouts. In the heat of the pennant race, which the Dodgers won by a single game over the Cardinals, Newcombe pitched 32 consecutive scoreless innings. He was named Rookie of the Year by both TSN and the BBWAA.

Newk was a strong 19-11 in his sophomore season, but on the last day of the season suffered the first of many late-season failures that would plague his otherwise outstanding career. Brooklyn needed a win to force a playoff with the Phillies when Newcombe served up a tenth-inning three-run homer to Dick Sisler to lose 4-1. Newk rebounded to go 20-9 in 1951, fanning a NL-high 164, and shut out the Phillies on the second-to-last day of the season to help force a three-game playoff with the Giants. He started Game Three, and appeared headed for a victory, the WS, and redemption from the previous year with a 4-2 lead in the bottom of the ninth. He left the game with two runnners on base, and Bobby Thomson won the pennant for the Giants with a three-run home run.

After two years in the military, Brooklyn's number 36 suffered a disappointing 1954 (9-8, 4.55), but returned to form in 1955, going 20-5, 3.20. He peaked the following year, with a sterling 27-7 record, five shutouts, and a 3.06 ERA, and was named NL MVP and recipient of the first-ever Cy Young Award, then given to only one pitcher each year (rather than one from each league).

In addition to his success on the mound, Newk was a threat at the plate, with a powerful left-handed stroke and a lifetime .271 average (9th best ever among pitchers). In 1955 he hit .359 with 7 home runs (a NL record for pitchers), including two two-home-run games. He hit two homers in a game a third time the next year, and found a place as a first baseman in Japan when his ML pitching days were over.

Still, the postseason was a personal nightmare for the usually dominating Newcombe. He pitched well in his first WS outing, fanning 11 and allowing only 4 hits in Game One of the 1949 Series, only to lose 1-0 on Tommy Henrich's ninth-inning homer. In his four other WS starts he allowed 20 earned runs in 14 innings. (FK)

Keeper of Giants' Bats and of Team's History



Michael Maloney/San Francisco Chronicle

The Giants' equipment manager, Mike Murphy,
with the first pitch of the 2008 home opener.

By DAVID WALDSTEIN
New York Times; November 3, 2010

SAN FRANCISCO — He has cleaned Willie Mays’s spikes, ordered bats for Barry Bonds, rubbed baseballs for Juan Marichal, and this week had Champagne poured on him by Matt Cain. If anyone embodies the 52-year endurance test the San Francisco Giants underwent to reach baseball’s summit, it is Mike Murphy.

Murph, as he is called, has been with the club since its first season in the Bay Area in 1958, first as a bat boy, later as a visiting clubhouse attendant and finally, from 1980 on, as the equipment manager. No one else can match his longevity, which is why the Giants owner Bill Neukom handed Murphy the World Series trophy in the hallway of The Ballpark in Arlington last Monday night and gave him the privilege of taking it to the crazed players waiting in the center of the clubhouse.

But as Cain, Tim Lincecum and the Series most valuable player, Edgar Renteria, danced and partied, Murphy retreated to a side hallway and thought about the young player he met on his first day on the job in 1958, the man he would come to embrace as a close friend for as many years and days as there has been a San Francisco Giants baseball team.

“I’m thinking about Willie Mays,” Murphy said through tears. “I met Willie that first day and we bonded for over 50 years now, and he calls me and I call him. In fact, I’m going to call him right now if I can find my phone. I’m going to tell him, ‘Willie, I’m on top of the world, just like you.’ ”

While some fans, and maybe even some former players, have witnessed every season of the San Francisco Giants’ history, no one has seen more of it than Murphy — not Willie McCovey, not even Mays.

No one has been through more of the heartbreak from a field-level perspective, from the Game 7 losses in the 1962 and 2002 World Series to the earthquake that turned the 1989 Series upside down. Murphy, 68, was here when the Giants lost 100 games in 1985, and for seven seasons, including 2008, when they lost 90 or more.

“I was here in the bad times,” said Murphy, who is a grandfather and lives in San Bruno, just south of San Francisco. “I wasn’t sure this would ever happen. Maybe someday in the future. I guess the future is now.”

A native of San Francisco, Murphy was a high school bat boy for the Class AAA San Francisco Seals from 1954-57. His life changed in 1958, when major league baseball arrived in the form of the Giants, who had migrated west from Manhattan and played for two seasons at Seals Stadium before moving into Candlestick Park in 1960.

“I was working with the Seals and we won the pennant that year,” Murphy said, “and the Giants came in and the next thing you know I was there. Imagine that.”

On his first day on the job with the Giants, Murphy met arguably the game’s greatest player in Mays. But there was also Marichal, McCovey, Orlando Cepeda and Felipe Alou and, years later, Bonds. With so much talent on the Giants over the decades, there were any number of seasons when Murphy, like so many fans in San Francisco, had hope.

But in the end none of those stars could do what this team of retreads and great young pitchers did. And when San Francisco finally won, Murphy was as much a part of it as anyone.

Bonds, in a congratulatory note to the team on his Web site, made particular mention of Murphy, and General Manager Brian Sabean said he was almost brought to tears thinking of him.

“When I saw him on the field afterward, I got teary-eyed,” Sabean said in the jubilant clubhouse. “Murph is as important to this organization as anyone. He makes all the players feel so comfortable in a family way, and that should not be overlooked.”

A few minutes later, Murphy had made his phone call to Mays. Asked how Mays sounded, Murphy smiled and said, “Very happy.”

Then he turned to a clubhouse attendant and pointed to some bags. There was equipment to be loaded onto a truck. Still drenched from the champagne, Murphy was back at work.

Adios Pelota, Goodbye Baseball





Members of the San Francisco Giants gather on the pitching mound
as they celebrate defeating the Rangers in Game 5 on Monday
night, clinching the World Series title.
(Brian Snyder / Reuters / November 2, 2010)



Adios Pelota.  Those words were uttered by ESPN radio announcer Jon Miller when the San Francisco Giant Edgar Renteria's homerun cleared the left field fence. That three run blast, which broke the scoreless tie against the Texas Rangers in the seventh inning of game five of the 2010 World Series, was against the opposing ace Cliff Lee.

So the drought is over, San Francisco can now celebrate their World Series victory, the first ever in the 56 year history of baseball in the City by the Bay. Who are the players who struggled for years in San Francisco, getting close in 1962, 1989, and 2002; only to lose to the NY Yankees, Oakland A’s, and Anaheim Angels respectively?

Here is a sample list of players, some Hall of Famers, some no namers; a couple of fathers and sons too.  A few were lucky enough to win a title either before or after their stay in San Francisco.  Hopefully the others can enjoy a bit of the warmth that a World Series title can spread.

Willie Mays
Mike McCormick
Red Schoendienst
Bill White
Jim Davenport
Orlando Cepeda
Willie McCovey
Juan Marichal
Don Blasingame
Matty Alou
Felipe Alou and son Moises Alou
Jesus Alou
Manny Mota
Jim Ray Hart
Tom Haller
Gaylord Perry
Joe Morgan
Dave Dravecky
Jose Uribe
Steve Finley
Will Clark
Matt Williams
Brett Butler
Bob Brenly
Jeff Kent
J.T. Snow
Rich Aurilia
Bobby Bonds and son Barry Bonds

What do they say, timing is everything; while the city of San Francisco was celebrating shortly after the last out Monday evening, their former hero and home run hitter Barry Bonds was getting a traffic ticket in Beverly Hills for talking on his cell phone while driving.