Another Response

Since evidently I need to say it to satisfy you, fine: I’m not a Mets fan. Now that we’ve put that behind us, hopefully we can move on. Connie Mack was a great manager (and yeah, I’ve read Macht’s biography of him that came out a couple years ago), but I think that Rickey did more for the game, and was better at putting together teams. John Heidenry’s book on the Gashouse Gang is a great book too, though short.

As for Comiskey, I’m clearly not going to argue that he was a good person, because he obviously wasn’t, but I’m trying to keep that from influencing my view on his importance to the game. His importance in founding the American League can’t be overstated, and it turned out that the AL has been a pretty big deal. Honestly, if he hadn’t been such an asshole I probably would have had him up a level.

And Landis, well, he pretty much single-handedly shaped the role of Commissioner. Yeah, he let Cobb and Speaker off the hook for betting on baseball, but that surfaced seven years after the incident, when both were winding down their careers. Beyond that, though, he absolutely cleaned up the sport. There had been pretty much no gambling scandals between the Black Sox (Cobb and Speaker bet in 1919, even though it came out later) and Pete Rose. He shepherded baseball from a rough, haphazardly organized game into America’s Pastime.

Regarding Mel Ott, Harmon Killebrew is a great comparison; both played 22 seasons without missing significant time during the middle of their careers (Kiner only played ten seasons, so I’m going to leave him out of this). I know you criticized me for using statistics, but they’re really the best way to compare players across eras. Killebrew was a career .256 hitter, with a career OBP of .376. Ott hit .304 for his career, with an OBP of .414. Ott also has an advantage in slugging, .533 to .509. Ott scored and knocked in more runs, which admittedly doesn’t say much about the player, but I suppose it’s worth noting. The only statistical category in which Killebrew holds an advantage over Ott is in home runs, 573 to 511. I don’t see how you can make any argument that Ott wasn’t better than Killebrew.

You say that Feller was the best pitcher in the AL for almost two decades, and that I’m wrong, but you don’t back it up with anything. Yeah, he lost years to WWII, and that sucks, but even if he was the best pitcher in the AL during the 40s and the first half of the 50s, so what, there are so few pitchers during that era who are comparable. He wasn’t as good as Warren Spahn, who pitched in the NL during Feller’s career and also lost years to the war. Beyond the purely subjective “Feller is better than you have him” there is nothing that makes me feel like I should move him up.

Finally, Gehrig. Yeah, Frank Robinson and Joe DiMaggio were both great players. But neither one of them was better than Lou Gehrig. Robinson holds a pretty significant edge in HRs, 586 to 495, but in every other meaningful category he falls behind Gehrig. In my eyes, the biggest difference between the two is on base percentage: for his career Gehrig put up an OBP of .447, almost 60 points better than Robinson’s .389. They aren’t close in slugging percentage either, with Gehrig leading .632 to .537. As for DiMaggio, Gehrig played four more seasons, and accordingly beats him in pretty much every counting stat. But he also has a higher batting average, on base percentage, and slugging percentage, and leads him in OPS+ 179 to 155. I don’t see how anyone can argue that Gehrig isn’t better than either of those two. I haven’t read any biographies of DiMaggio, but I don’t see how anything could vault him past Gehrig.

And one last note about Wagner: he was the last person I cut from the top level. It was between him and Gibson, and in the end I decided to give the Negro Leagues more representation there. He was probably the best middle infielder of all time (I have Robinson ahead of him for obvious reasons), and I consider him number 15.

Response to HOF comment

Wow, so much of what you said was wrong I don’t even know where to start. Branch Rickey was the most innovative, and probably the best, general manager in history. He put together the World Series winning Gashouse Gang in St. Louis, built the Boys of Summer World Champion team in Brooklyn, and laid the foundation for the Pirates’ 1960 title run. Not only that, but yeah, he built minor league baseball, broke the color barrier by playing Robinson, and drafted Roberto Clemente.

You criticize Rickey for being cheap, while failing to mention Mack’s reaction to the Federal League, which was basically him saying, “fuck it, I know I’ve been competing for World Series the last five years, but I don’t want to deal with this or pay any more for my players, they can all leave.” So his team sucked for a decade. Then they got good again in the late 20s, early 30s, and his ’30 team is one of the best ever, but after ’32 he stopped spending money and the A’s sucked until the left Philadelphia. I know he played a huge role in founding the American League, , and I tried to reflect the importance of that by ranking Ban Johnson and Charles Comiskey (especially Comiskey) higher than I otherwise would have.

As for having Landis ranked as high as I do, come on, he was the first commissioner of baseball. He pretty much created the office, and really brought the American and National Leagues together. Plus, he was able to guide the game through several huge challenges, like anti-trust lawsuits from the Federal League and gambling controversies involving some of the biggest players in the game, including Ty Cobb.

As for the catchers, there’s no way that Campanella should be higher than Gary Carter. Campanella may have been a better player, but he only played in 1200 games; he didn’t have the longevity to be put any higher. I know it’s not his fault, considering time spent in the Negro Leagues and time towards the end of his career he lost in the accident, but because of that I can’t put him any higher. You’re probably right about Dickey, though, he’s always been overshadowed by teammates like Gehrig and Dimaggio.

I’m comfortable with where I put Gibson, Seaver, and Feller. Gibson and Feller pitched about the same number of innings over their careers, 3884 and 3827. But Feller had a career ERA+ of 122, while Gibson’s was 127. They had a pretty substantial difference in WHIPs too, with Gibson putting up a 1.188 for his career, compared to the 1.316 for Feller. Also, and I understand that it’s a pretty small sample, but Feller’s postseason ERA was over 5, while Gibson’s was under 2. Seaver also had a great career, with an ERA+ of 127, WHIP of 1.121, and more than 3600 strikeouts. They all belong where I put them.

As for Mel Ott, come one, he’s easily one of the best outfielders of all time. He led the league in HRs six times, and was the first player in the NL to reach 500 career HRs. You say that he was helped out by playing in the Polo Grounds, but his career OPS+, a park adjusted stat, is 155, higher than Frank Robinson, and equal to Hank Aaron. He was great.

As for saying that Lou Gehrig doesn’t belong in the top tier, come on, he’s the best first baseman of all time. Two MVP awards, two second place finishes, and Offensive Win Percentage of .803, OPS+ of 179, he put up ridiculous numbers. He’s where he should be.

I guess I'll concede... that you're a dumbass

Wow. I can’t believe this. It’s inconceivable that one person could be so wrong so consistently. Dick, you’re like the Ann Coulter of the Mighty Ducks. I feel like I need to address the few “points” you made in this reply, because, unsurprisingly, they’re wrong.

First, you say that Conway was the one that was challenging Bombay to be great. That’s ridiculous. Throughout the whole first movie, Bombay was mostly driven by a desire to get into Charlie’s mom’s pants, and that’s not really so attributable to Charlie.

Then, you point to Charlie’s leadership, saying he welcomed Banks to the team “on behalf of the Ducks.” What you fail to mention is that his teammates nevertheless shun Banks until he proves himself on the ice. In fact, as Charlie is saying this, one of the Hall brothers is pushing him back to shut him up, and then calls Banks a cake-eater. Clearly, Charlie was not the respected locker room presence you make him out to be.

As far as Conway’s penalty shot goal goes, it should also be pointed out that after he was pulled down on the breakaway, when the team is gathered by the bench waiting for Bombay to say who will take the shot, Charlie’s teammates don’t want Charlie to shoot. They’re appalled by the suggestion. Even Charlie is shocked by the decision, preferring to defer to a different player, I think Jesse Hall, but that might not be exactly right. Maybe it was Averman. Anyway, the point still stands that in the pivotal point of his hockey career, Conway didn’t want to lead his team, and his team didn’t want him to either.

You then ask me to find an instance of Banks sacrificing for his team as Conway did. While I can do this easily, and Banks playing through the wrist injury in D2 until Bombay finds out leaps to mind (“just imagine how well you would play with two wrists”) it’s not an apt comparison. Charlie was able to sacrifice like this, giving up his spot in the lineup, because he was an easily replaceable role player; Banks was a superstar, not so easily replaced. Banks is like Gretzky, Conway just another Dave Semenko.

Moving on, you say that Conway was such a great leader that he was given the C by Coach Orion at Eden Hall. Conveniently, you fail to mention that he abandoned his team, leaving them behind to ride roller coasters and puke in trashcans. That’s not a leader.

Finally, you cite the order in which Wikipedia credits the Ducks for their win over the varsity, which is just a terribly stupid idea. If Vincent LaRusso had gone on to star in Dawson’s Creek Banks would undoubtedly be credited first here. Seriously, I can’t believe I’ve wasted so much time on this today. Banks is without a doubt the most valuable Duck.

I will concede...

but only to Banks' on-ice play being superior to Conway's (although you did leave out that it was Conway who executed the triple deke to beat the Hawks in the first Mighty Ducks, stunning the opposition, defying the odds, and spurring the sequels that allowed Banks to shine).

However, I need you to (just this once!) get below the surface, Gimpy. Look at the off-ice leadership demonstrated by Conway. He's the one who challenges Bombay to be great, over and again. It's even Conway who welcomes Banks himself to the team, "on behalf of the ducks" I might add. And as you correctly pointed out, it was Conway who gave up his spot for Banks to play at the Goodwill Games (though I'm pretty sure Banks had to use witchcraft to get back from that broken wrist inside of 36 hours). Find me an example of Banks sacrificing for the team like that!


It's that sort of leadership that earned Charlie the C by the end of the third movie (you also forgot about his game-saving, up-ending, destruction of the Varsity goon to finally demonstrate his commitment to two-way hockey.

And in closing, I'll quote wikipedia, the preeminent source for all things D3: "Thanks in large part to the work of Charlie, Adam Banks' return and the last-minute arrival of Fulton Reed's "Bash Brother," Dean Portman, who had not come to Eden Hall with the rest of the Ducks, the Ducks win 1-0 on a shorthanded goal in the final seconds of the game from unlikely scorer Goldberg, who had switched positions from goalie to defenseman."

Even Wikipedia credits Charlie first! Verdict: Banks is still a cake-eater.

Dick Gerber is a Baby-Rapist

I know I’m being baited. I know it, and I don’t care.

How dare you?

I’ve read a lot of asinine things in the course of writing for this site, ranging from Chuck Norris’ political thoughts to Jay Mariotti’s self-serving garbage. None of that made me madder than just one sentence: “Charlie Conway was the most important player on the Ducks.” He was not. To suggest that he was shows a terrible misunderstanding not only of hockey, but of general human interaction.

Putting aside all hyperbole, I can still state unequivocally that Adam Banks was the most important player on the Ducks, the most vital to their success. Through all three of the Ducks’ greatest triumphs it is Banks, not Conway, leading the way.

Before even getting into who is more important, Banks or Conway, I feel that it is important to make it absolutely clear that Banks was a better player than Conway. In their peewee days this was made abundantly clear; Coach Riley, a Minneapolis peewee coaching legend, said that Banks had the potential to be the best he had ever seen. Even when they entered high school, impartial observers acknowledged that Banks was the better player; coaches Orion and Wilson chose Banks to play on varsity while relegating Conway to JV. There is no question that Banks was the more talented player, and while that goes a great distance towards being the most important, it does not quite clinch it. But the gulf between the two is so wide, and Banks brought so much more to the team than just skill, that Banks is the most important Duck.

Adam Banks’ first peewee team is the Hawks, a talented, well-coached peewee powerhouse. At this time, Conway was merely struggling to stay on his skates as his team, District 5, was mired at the bottom of the standings. Then Coach Bombay showed up, and the Ducks began to turn things around. Even though they were playing dirty, they were able to put together a string of wins, largely attributable to Bombay’s coaching. Things really began looking up for the Ducks when they acquired Banks. Banks was able to put the team on his shoulders and rocket them up the standings and into the playoffs, even earning the respect of his teammates. Charlie Conway spent most of this time whining.

In the Championship Game, Ducks against the Hawks, Coach Riley made clear who he thought was the most important player on the Ducks, the kind of honest evaluation that only an opponent can provide. By having a goon injure Banks, he was clearly showing that Banks was the player on the Ducks that he feared the most, the most valuable, the most important, and the most likely to beat him. I’d bet that having someone injure Conway never even crossed Riley’s mind. If Banks had been able to play that whole game a late penalty shot never would have been necessary, it would have been put out of reach much earlier.

When the Ducks represented the United States in the Junior Goodwill Games, even Charlie Conway acknowledged that Banks was more important than he was. As Banks was returning from injury (yes, another team decided that he was the one they needed to take out with a cheap shot, not Conway), there was no available roster spot, and Banks’ place had been given to the knucklepuck kid. Here Conway, recognizing that Banks was more vital to the team’s success, gave up his own roster spot so Banks could dress for the game. Naturally, Banks went on to score the winning goal in the shootout, clinching the gold medal, while Conway looked on in street clothes from the bench.

When the Ducks go on the play at Eden Hall, further proof is given of Banks’ greater importance to the Ducks. While Banks is on the varsity team, the Ducks struggle considerably, despite, and at times because of, Conway’s presence. They blew an enormous lead against a team that they should have beaten handily, with the final, tying goal coming after Conway lost the puck while trying to pad his stats. Then the JV decided to play a game against Banks’ team, the varsity team, and got smoked. It was a massacre that devolved into a brawl.

Several days later, after an appearance by Coach Bombay, the Ducks again faced off against the varsity, only this time Banks was back with his old team. The results were markedly different, as Banks miraculously stopped the Varsity captain from scoring on an open net to set up the game winning goal. There were only two differences between the Ducks’ lineup that beat the Varsity and the lineup that got annihilated: Dean Portman, and Adam Banks.

Adam Banks was the very definition of valuable; simply put, when he was with the Ducks, they won, and when he wasn’t, they lost. The same can’t be said about any other player, not Conway, not Goldberg, not either of the Bash Brothers, no one. Banks was the most important Duck, bar none.

Rebuttal

In response to your latest ALOTO post (that's A League of Their Own for those of you who don't habla acronyms), I could say a number of things.

I could say that you're a no talent hack who is merely causing trouble. But I won't say that.

I could say it was obvious from your ramblings that you haven't seen the movie, and all of your references could easily be found on Wikipedia or IMDB. But I won't say that.

I could say that you clearly don't understand the filial bonds between teammates and the competitive nature between siblings which belies your claim that your family exists or loves you. But I won't say that either.

Instead, I'm going to ignore your ALOTO comments altogether and simply say this:

Charlie Conway was the most important player on the Ducks.

No loyalty in baseball? I'm not so sure.

Mr. Gerber has made a compelling argument that Dottie did not purposely drop the ball in the last inning of the AAGPBL World Series, but I remain unconvinced. I’m not going to fight him about this, though, because truthfully I can’t make up my mind about it. However, I am going to take issue with his last statement, the underlying theme of his argument, that Dottie loved the game more than she loved Kit.

When taking the whole movie into account, the answer to this question is painfully obvious: Kit meant immeasurably more to Dottie than baseball did. Dottie did not want to play professional ball at all, she was only persuaded to sign up so that Kit could make the team as well. That is not how someone who was driven by a passion for baseball would act, not even a little. Her husband was over seas, she had nothing really tying her to her home preventing her from playing, and she still would only join up at her sister’s urging.

We again see Dottie’s lack of commitment to baseball when her husband returns from the war in the middle of the playoffs. Not only does she entertain the notion of ditching her team to go back to Oregon, she actually does it! It is only miles down the road that force of her commitment to the Peaches pulls her back to the team. If she truly had the passion for baseball that Dick claims she had, she would have gotten her husband tickets to the remaining games and would have tried to go home with him after game seven, as a champion, without any hesitation. But she wavered. Chase Utley never would have wavered.

Gerber says that Kit wanted it more than Dottie, and that enabled her to jar the ball loose. He’s half right: Kit did want to win the Series more than Dottie did. But this was because Dottie was never really all that interested in winning it at all. If Dottie had really wanted to win she would have had the ball in her glove, not her bare hand, and would have put the tag right in Kit’s face.

Time and again we see Dottie putting others ahead of herself: she joins the league for Kit, she puts her dream life on hold for her teammates, and, finally, she drops the ball for her sister. And yes, I’ve convinced myself of this in the last five paragraphs.

But anyway, there’s one more pressing concern that I have here: why on earth were the Peaches not playing a no-doubles defense? The outfielder never should have let Kit’s liner go over her head, it’s inexcusable.

(Sticking with a theme) There's no loyalty in baseball!

My magnificent insights have been recently absent from this blog. My apologies, but I was busy drowning in yuletide and adopted Pagan rituals for the better part of the past two weeks.

Since I got a chance to catch up on Gimp's prolific posting, I was inspired to try and resolve a near-two-decade-old debate.

I'll go ahead and blow my argumentative load up front and then defend myself, because based on some in-person discussions about this topic, what I have to say is going to shock and upset many of you.

Here we go: Dottie Henson didn't drop the ball on purpose at the end of A League of Their Own and you should be happier about this than the alternative.

There is basically one two-pronged counter-argument to this irrefutable statement: that Dottie didn't care about winning and that she loved her younger sister Kit too much to see her devastated.

Bullshit.

First, to the point that she didn't care about winning. This is absolute, unadulterated crap. We're talking about Dottie Henson here! Dottie who loved the game so much she was player-manager during Jimmy Dugan's season-starting bender. Dottie who left a comfortable life on a farm in Oregon to try and play professionally (with Kit at her side, admittedly). Dottie who played even while she was worried about her husband fighting overseas, and the same Dottie who then put her dream life with her husband on hold to come back to play in Game 7! She got her husband back from war, starting driving home, and then made him turn the friggin car around so she could go play the game. And now you're gonna try and tell me she didn't want to win? Again - - bullshit.

And you really think Dottie threw the game because she felt bad for Kit? Did Dottie feel bad for Kit when she rifled that line drive right over Kit's head in the top of the 9th. Fuck no she did not! Couldn't she have much more easily thrown the game while she was at the plate rather than wait for the off-chance that her sister would run through the stop sign in the bottom half of the inning? And she definitely didn't feel bad when she told Ellen Sue the best way to strike out her beloved sister in the bottom of that inning.

And Dottie is a professional baseball player, but I guess since she's a woman it's heartwarming that she might throw the game for her sister's sake. If you were an Indians fan in, say, 1995, would you be OK if Sandy Alomar dropped the ball at home so Robbie Alomar could win one for the Blue Jays? I think everyone in Cleveland would be rightly calling for Sandy Alomar's head! You can't pull that shit! You know how much Harvey Bar revenue she would have blown if she tanked that game? She would've sent Mr. Harvey into another Diabetic shock after he comforted his blubbery ass with another case of Nutty Harvey Bars.

And for those of you that are comfortable with this sister love scenario, let me leave you with this lingering question. If Dottie loved her sister so much that she needed to violate the trust of her teammates, fans, and the baseball gods so that bratty fuckin Kit could win, then why were they incommunicado for the next 4 decades?! If Dottie loved Kit so much you'd think she'd pick up the phone and ask how being a World Champion is (and I only use that phrase to try and steal the meaning back from the Phillies. Fuckin Phillies.).

The truth of the matter is that Kit wanted it more, Dottie got surprised by a sudden play at the plate, made a ballsy play on it, and got beat. The end. In fact maybe she was so shocked that her younger sibling bested her that that's why they didn't talk for damn near half a century.

And why did they finally get back together? Because Dottie loved the game so goddamn much she went to Cooperstown to relive the memories. She loved the game way more than her sister. Fact.