A Plea for the Return of the Complete Game

Ferguson Jenkins               Steve Carlton

This article first appeared in Here's the Pitch, the newsletter of the Internet Baseball Writers Association of America (IBWAA).

Since 1900, 34 pitchers have thrown 250 or more complete games in their Major League careers. The leader, Walter Johnson, completed 531 games between 1907 and 1927. Complete games were, of course, much more common in the early days of baseball. Only seven pitchers who started the majority of their games during or after the 1950 season appear on this list: Warren Spahn (382), Robin Roberts (305), Gaylord Perry (303), Early Wynn (289), Ferguson Jenkins (267), Bob Gibson (255), and Steve Carlton (254). Carlton, the youngest of this bunch, threw his last complete game in 1987. Since the year 2000, Hall of Famer Roy Halladay leads all pitchers with 65 complete games. Livan Hernandez is second with 39. Likely Hall of Famer Zach Greinke, who was a rookie in 2004, has just 17.

As a baseball loving kid growing up in the 1950s, I was a huge fan of the complete game. I would pour over the backs of my baseball cards looking for that CG column or a note in the blurb like, “Last year Robin led all of baseball with 33 complete games.” That “Robin”, of course, would be Robin Roberts, the Hall of Fame Phillies pitcher who accomplished that feat in 1953. From July of 1952 to June of 1953 Roberts threw 28 consecutive complete games. In those days management valued pitchers who completed what they started. Salaries were low, pitching staffs were smaller, and pitchers were expected to complete what they started.

Under baseball’s indentured servitude rules at the time, contracts were signed year-to-year. With no long-term contracts, front offices tended not to think long term. No matter really that after six straight seasons of tossing 300+ innings, Roberts lost the edge on his fastball. The object was to get the most out of your “horse” pitchers as you could and then move on. Some pitchers, like Warren Spahn, adapted well as they aged, others like Roberts struggled.

Of course, no one needs to know these statistics to know that baseball no longer values the complete game. The game has become increasingly specialized, with set-up men, closers, and even relief pitchers as “openers” for ball games over the past 40+ years. The death of the complete game is completely understandable. The object of the game of baseball is to win the game. If a team has a better chance to win the game throwing a starter for six innings and following with three relief pitchers firing 97+ mph bullets, that is the way they are going to go.

Draftee signing bonuses and long-term contracts also play a role. When you have invested a few million dollars in a young arm, you want to protect your investment. Young pitchers are kept on strict pitch counts as they progress through the minors and when and if they do get to the major leagues, the instructions are to go as hard as you can for as long as you can and then we’ll bring in the specialists. Five innings? No problem. Six innings? A quality start. Seven innings? A Hall of Famer.

I get it, but still I wonder if something more than just nostalgia value is lost when we devalue the complete game. Back when pitchers were expected to pitch complete games, they were, out of necessity, forced to learn a wide variety of pitches. Pitchers wanted to give the hitters a different “look” when facing them for the third or fourth time in a game. Pitchers like Spahn, his teammate Lew Burdette, and others developed a broad repertoire of curveballs, sliders, change ups and screwballs (and in Burdette's case a spitball) to keep the hitters off balance and extend their effectiveness on the mound beyond the sixth inning.

Major League hitters get to the Major Leagues because they can hit a fastball. Eventually, I believe they will adapt to the 100 mile an hour fastball, just as they adapted to the 95 mile an hour fastball just a few years ago. The key to getting batters out consistently is keeping them off balance. All the great flamethrowers from Christy Mathewson to Sandy Koufax to Nolan Ryan have needed more than just the fastball and each developed devastating breaking pitches. If today’s pitchers are forced to go longer in games, they are going to be required to develop a more complete repertoire of pitches and ultimately, I think the game will be better for it.

In fact, I think it is already happening. Probably the most talked about pitch in the last two years has been the cutter. The cutter, a sort of half fastball, half slider, is meant to upset the batter’s timing enough to keep the ball of the barrel of the bat. It is more of a weak contact pitch than a strikeout pitch. Another slight change off the fastball that is occurring more and more in pitcher’s repertoire is an old pitch in new clothing – the sinker. A sinker used to be a pitch for pitchers who didn’t have quite enough on their fastball, so they got movement on the ball by throwing a two-seam fastball that sunk down on the strike zone. Now hard throwers like Miami’s Sandy Alcantara have added the power sinker to their arsenal. Alcantara throws his about 96-97 mph, compared to his 98-100 fastball. The Phillies Zach Wheeler is another elite pitcher who has gone to the power sinker. Even the hardest throwing starting pitchers are recognizing that pure gas is not the only answer.

Alcantara is the poster boy for my argument for having pitchers go deeper into games and for putting the complete game back in play. He leads the major leagues in innings pitched and complete games this year. And while his complete game total of four is modest by 1950s standards, his workload has allowed him to refine an incredibly balanced pitch repertoire. Alcantara throws each of his pitches, four-seam fastball, sinker, slider, and changeup, about 25% of the time. Both Alcantara’s power and his change of speeds keep hitters off balance and have made him the premiere pitcher in the National League this year.

I would not argue that pitchers should pile up 300+ innings a year as they did in the old days. The five-man rotation, with the occasional sixth starter, seems a smart way to go, limiting the top pitchers to 30 starts and 225 or so innings seems about right. But expecting the very best pitchers to stay on the mound, attempting to finish the task they started every time out seems to me to be an unqualified good. The best pitchers get better, and the fans can look forward to discussions about their favorite pitchers throwing those two-hitters, or working out of a late inning jam, or pitching a nine-inning shutout.

The complete game is deeply rooted in the popular lore of baseball. It has had its own column in baseball statistical charts since the beginnings of the game. Time for it to make a comeback.

 

Two Guys Named Pinky Went to Third Base

Pinky Whitney and Pinky May

In their long, often frustrating, often losing history, the Phillies have nevertheless been blessed with some fine third baseman with considerable staying power. Of course, for most of the finest sustained period of excellence for the team in the 1970s and early 80s, the Phillies had the GOAT third baseman, Mike Schmidt (1972-1989). But they have also had the near Hall of Famers, Scott Rolen (1996-2002), and Dick Allen (1964-1969), and the clutch hitting Whiz Kid Willie Jones (1947-1959). Defensively, current hot corner habitue, Alec Bohm, will never make us forget any of these players, but he may eventually prove to be a solid member of this roll call. Less well known may be the two "Pinkys" who held down third base for most of 16 seasons for the Phillies during their most sustained period of awfulness, 1928-1943. The two were Arthur Carter (Pinky) Whitney, (1928-33 and 1936-39) and Merrill (Pinky) May, (1939 - 1943).

No less an eminence than Grover Cleveland Alexander called Pinky Whitney, "the greatest third baseman in baseball." Whitney, who got his nickname from a cartoon character when he was a boy, had above average range for a third baseman and was consistently among the league leaders in fielding percentage, leading the league four times. Not a power hitter, like today's prototypical third sacker, Whitney was a more than solid contact hitter. He averaged .295 in his ten years with the Phillies and reached a high of .342 in 1930. He was also an excellent RBI man, knocking in over 100 in four of his Phillies' seasons. Alexander called him "one of the most dangerous hitters in the game."

Pinky Whitney had one of his finest games at Forbes Field in Pittsburgh, on July 30, 1929. After lining out to first in the second inning, Whitney followed a Chuck Klein homerun with a home run of his own off Buccos hurler Ray Kremer in the Phillies seven run fourth. In the fifth, Whitney doubled and followed that with triples in both the seventh and eighth innings. When the smoke had cleared, Whitney had gone 4-for-5, with 3 runs scored, 2 RBIs, a double, two triples, and a home run, just a single short of the cycle. The Phillies won the game. 13-5. 

Whitney was the roommate and lifelong friend of Phillies great Chuck Klein. Klein and Whitney were rookies with the Phillies in 1928. When Whitney was traded from the Phillies to the Boston Braves in 1933, Klein is said to have broken down and cried. The Phillies brought Whitney back in 1936 and he managed one more great season, hitting .341 in 138 games. For all the losing he experienced in Philadelphia, Whitney enjoyed his time in the city and remained a fan favorite. Recalling his time there long after he retired from baseball, he said, "Old Philly, lowly Philly, it had the worst water, best ice cream, and most loyal fans in the game."

When age and injury caught up with Whitney in 1939, 28-year-old, Merrill "Pinky" May took over third base for the Phillies. May got his moniker while playing for the Cumberland (Maryland) Colts in the Mid-Atlantic League as a 21-year-old out of Indiana University. Reporters there asked him what his nickname was, and May told them a few players at Indiana called him "Pinky", so the scribes called him Pinky from there on. May had several excellent seasons in the New York Yankees minor league system but was never able to earn a spot on the Yankee roster, because veteran All-Star Red Rolfe was a fixture there. Finally, the Phillies acquired May in the Rule 5 draft after the 1938 season. He immediately took over in 1939 as the Phillies starting third baseman. 

May was the regular Phillies third baseman for the next five years. He was very much a singles hitter, averaging fewer than 25 extra base hits a season, including a stretch where he went more than 1400 at bats without a home run. May was, however, an excellent defensive third baseman. He led the league in both fielding percentage and range factor in three of his five major league seasons. He was selected to play in the 1940 All-Star game. He appeared in the game as a defensive replacement for Cookie Lavagetto and was plunked by a Bob Feller fastball in one of his two at bats in the game. 

May had one of his finest offensive games on July 15, 1939, in a Phillies. 8-5 victory over the Chicago Cubs at Shibe Park. May chipped in with four hits, including a double, and three runs batted in. His double off Charlie Root in the eighth inning drove in a run as the Phillies rallied from a 4-3 deficit to win the game. On October 3, 1943, May had four hits in a doubleheader sweep of the Pittsburgh Pirates, bringing his season average to .282.  It would be the last game May would play in the Major Leagues. He enlisted in the Navy at the end of the season. He spent the war stationed on islands in Southeast Asia. 

May returned to the Phillies in 1946 but was released in May, another fine ballplayer whose career was interrupted, and in May's case, ended, by the war. May then embarked on a 26-year career as a minor league manager with several organizations. His son Milt spent 15 years as a Major League catcher.

Two Society for American Baseball Research biographies were very helpful in writing this story. To find out more about these "two Pinkys." Pinky Whitney, by Seven V. Rice and Pinky May, by Alan Cohen.

Pinkey Whitney – Society for American Baseball Research (sabr.org)

Pinky May – Society for American Baseball Research (sabr.org)

Who’s on First: A Look at the Top First Basemen of the 1950s

Clockwise from top left: Gil Hodges, Mickey Vernon,
Ferris Fain, Earl Torgeson

This article originally appeared in Here's the Pitch, the newsletter of the Internet Baseball Writers of America Association (IBWAA)

A recent poll on twitter asked readers to choose their favorite decade of baseball. The clear winner was the 1950s. Former New York Herald Tribune baseball writer Harold Rosenthal agrees. He called his book about the national pastime in the 1950s, The 10 Best Years of Baseball. The 1950s famously had “Willie, Mickey, and the Duke”, that is Mays, Mantle, and Snider, in centerfield, Jackie Robinson in Brooklyn, Stan Musial in St. Louis, Henry Aaron and Eddie Mathews in Milwaukee, Ernie Banks in Chicago, and Ted Williams in Boston. For pitchers we could count on a roll call that included Warren Spahn, Robin Roberts, Whitey Ford, Early Wynn, and Billy Pierce. What the 1950s didn’t have was a Hall of Fame first baseman. That oversight has at long last been corrected with the belated election of Gil Hodges to the Hall this past winter.

Hodges induction, which happened in July, stirred a question in my head. If he is the first first baseman from the 1950s to be enshrined, who were the other players of note manning the first sack in that greatest of all baseball decades? I went to find out. My criteria: Players who spent more than 60% of their time on the field at first base and who played a significant chunk of their career in the 1950s. I did not include Musial because he was mostly an outfielder, playing only 40% of his games at first. I did not include Banks because he was a shortstop before moving to first base in the 1960s. I did not include Orlando Cepeda because his major league career began in 1958, making him mostly a 1960s player.

Here are the other very good first baseman from the 1950s. Not exactly “Willie, Mickey. and the Duke,” but a worthy aggregation, nonetheless. Hodges by the way, had a 41.2 WAR during the 50s, better than any in the group below. All WAR scores are for the 1950s only.

Mickey Vernon (WAR 21.8.) – Of all the players on this list, Marcus Hook, Pennsylvania’s Vernon may have the best argument for Hall of Fame consideration. A left-handed thrower and hitter, Vernon played from 1939 until 1960, mostly in the obscurity of a Washington Senators uniform. Like many players of his era, he lost two of his prime seasons, ages 26 and 27, to service in World War II. He won two batting titles (1946 and 1953) and was one of the most accomplished hitters of his time. Not a big home run hitter, Vernon was annually among the top players in both doubles and triples. Vernon was no slouch as a first baseman either, leading the league in fielding percentage four times. He still holds the major league record for most double plays turned by a first baseman, 2,044. Vernon had 2,495 hits in his career with a .286 lifetime batting average. He was a seven-time All-Star. He made his last All-Star team in 1958 at age 40, when he hit .293 in 119 games for the Cleveland Indians.

Ted Kluszewski (WAR 28.6) Big Klu was certainly one of the most intimidating hitters of the 1950s. With his hulking build and bulging biceps accentuated by his sleeveless Cincinnati Reds uniform, he was a daunting presence in the batter’s box. For four seasons in the mid-1950s, Kluszewski was the premiere power hitter in the game. In those four seasons he hit 171 home runs, compiled 464 RBIs, and batted .315. One amazing stat from those years shows that he struck out just 140 times, one of the few power hitters in history to have more home runs than strikeouts over a sustained period. A back injury that occurred during a scuffle in the clubhouse robbed Kluszewski of his power and his numbers fell off precipitously after his four-year peak. Big Klu had one last hurrah, however, with the 1959 “Go-Go” White Sox, when he hit .391 with three home runs in the 1959 World Series that the Sox lost to the Los Angeles Dodgers, 4 games to 2.

Earl Torgeson (WAR 25) – With his dark rimmed glasses and broad features Earl Torgeson looked like Superman's friend mild-mannered Clark Kent, but in his behavior, he more resembled a street brawler. Torgeson might be remembered today as a great first baseman if he could have held his temper and avoided injury. Instead, he is best remembered for his fights. Torgeson once slugged Boston Red Sox infielder Billy Hitchcock during an exhibition game. He broke his own glasses in the ensuing bench-clearing melee. A few years later, having learned his lesson, Torgeson first took his glasses off before he charged into the opposing team’s dugout to slug “his good friend” catcher Sal Yvars. Off the field Torgeson was bright and funny. On the field he was a crazed demon. He also had a good bit of talent. In 1950, he hit .290 with 23 home runs for the Boston Braves. He had a couple of decent years with the Philadelphia Phillies and the Detroit Tigers and split time at first with Ted Kluszewski on the pennant winning Chicago White Sox in 1959, but he never reached what many thought was his great potential. A knee injury early in his career flared up often and likely robbed him of the career he might have had. And then there was his personality. Former teammate Gene Mauch summed up Torgeson well, “He refused to be dull, in his conversations, his actions, or anything else.”

Joe Adcock (WAR 19.8) – When Joe Adcock first came to the major leagues with the Cincinnati Reds, he had to play left field because Ted Kluszewski was the Reds established first baseman. Unhappy in the outfield in Cincinnati, where the Crosley Field banked outfield bothered his already creaky knees, Adcock was traded to the Braves just as they moved to Milwaukee, where he established himself as one of the most feared power hitters in the game. He is one of just 18 players to ever hit four home runs in a game. He hit the home run that broke up Harvey Haddix’s 12-inning perfect game in the 13^th. He was the first right-handed batter to hit a ball over the Ballantine Beer scoreboard in Connie Mack Stadium’s right-centerfield. For his career, Adcock hit 336 home runs. The total would doubtless have been higher if he could have stayed healthy. He had knee problems from his earliest days in the minor leagues and was constantly being hit by pitches on the hands and in the head. Adcock was one of the first players to adopt the batting helmet. It is a good thing he did. The day after he hit four home runs against the Dodgers, pitcher Clem Labine beaned him. Sportswriters noted the helmet likely saved his life.

Ferris Fain (WAR 17.8) – Fain may be one of the least known five-time All-Star, two-time American League batting champions in baseball history. His anonymity can be blamed, in part, on the fact that he played his best years for the woebegone Philadelphia Athletics of the late 1940s and early 50s, and also to the relative brevity of his major league career, cut short at the beginning by World War II and at the end by injury. Fain was another feisty first sacker who became as well known for his drinking and fighting as he was for his prodigious line drive hitting. He came up to the A’s in 1947 and by 1951 was one of the top hitters in the league. He led the league in batting average two straight seasons, 1951 and 52, with marks of .344 and .327 respectively. He was also selective at the plate, drew a lot of walks, and was perennially among the league leaders in OBP. Fain ranks 15^th all-time in career OBP with a .424 mark. He was traded to the Chicago White Sox after the 1952 season for another fine first baseman, Eddie Robinson. The trade was likely precipitated by concerns over Fain’s drinking. By 1955, with his knees aching and his batting average plummeting, Fain played his final season in the major leagues with Detroit and Cleveland.

Honorable Mention – Other first basemen from the 1950s deserve our attention. The Yankees had two solid first basemen during their run of eight pennants in the 1950s, Joe Collins (WAR 12.1) and Bill (Moose) Skowron (WAR 14.8). Puerto Rico native Vic Power (WAR 13.4) came up through the New York Yankee system, where he was blocked by Skowron and the prejudice of the Yankee management. Traded to Kansas City he proved to be a dependable hitter and in the estimation of his manager Lou Boudreau, “the best defensive right-handed first baseman in the league.” Slugging Eddie Robinson (WAR 10.1) bounced around among seven different teams in the 50s, averaging 20 home runs a year wherever he went. Robinson eventually became the general manager of the Texas Rangers. Finally, Luke Easter (WAR 9.5) who never got a chance to play major league ball until he was 33 years old because of baseball’s color bar, had three outstanding seasons for the Cleveland Indians in the early 50s, averaging .271 and 29 home runs a year, before age and injury caught up with him.

Lee Thomas and the 1993 Phillies: "Mad Dog" Assembles that "Wacky, Wonderful, Bunch of Misfits."

Perhaps no team in Phillies history captures the hearts of Philadelphia Phillies fans more than the 1993 National League pennant winners. The team was made up a cast of castoffs, misfits, and baseball journeymen, who somehow jelled into, not only a winner, but as entertaining a baseball team as the world is ever likely to see. It is amazing to consider that 20 of the 25 players on that team were acquired by Phillies General Manager Lee Thomas. Thomas passed away this week at the age of 86 in his adopted hometown of St. Louis. Newspaper reports said he had been battling several illnesses for the past few years.

When Thomas came from the St. Louis Cardinals front office to be the general manager of the Phillies in June 1988, the team was well on its way to a 96-loss season. Thomas said he didn't make many trades immediately, because he thought his counterparts on other teams were trying to take advantage of the new GM on the block. After about a year though Thomas began the wheeling and dealing that put the 93 team together. Thomas thought the late 80s Phillies were listless and he went looking for players to give the team some intensity. 

In one week in June 1989, Thomas traded away fan favorite Juan Samuel to the New York Mets for Lenny Dykstra and Roger McDowell and sent Chris James to the San Diego Padres for John Kruk and Randy Ready. A week later he sent star reliever Steve Bedrosian to San Francisco for Terry Mulholland, Dennis Cook, and Charlie Hayes. He snatched up Dave Hollins as a Rule 5 draftee from the Padres that winter. He got Wes Chamberlain and Tony Longmire in a 1990 trade with the Pittsburgh Pirates. In 1991, closer "Wild Thing" Mitch Williams came over from the Cubs. In 1992 he got Curt Schilling in a trade for Jason Grimsley. When he thought he was getting close to a good team he added a few more pieces to the puzzle just before the 1993 season: Jim Eisenreich, Pete Incaviglia, Milt Thompson, Danny Jackson, Larry Andersen. As Andersen put it, "It was kind of like they had a puzzle with some missing pieces. And they knew exactly what those pieces were and where they fit."

These players seemingly all had three things in common. They had failed in other major league cities; they were intense on and off the field; and they were quirky. Somehow, they all molded together under the leadership of holdover catcher Darren Daulton and former Thomas teammate, manager Jim Fregosi. 

What fascinates me about Lee Thomas is this: What made him think that this bunch of castoffs and cutups could mold themselves into a winning baseball team? To get to the answer, I decided to look at Thomas' playing career.

Lee Thomas was a promising left-handed hitting prospect in the New York Yankees organization. He made his way steadily up the minor league ladder until he finally found himself on the Yankees opening day roster in 1961. Unfortunately for Thomas, his path to playing time was blocked by a couple of pretty good outfielders named Mantle and Maris. He rode the bench in New York in April, getting just two pinch hitting at bats, and singling in his first big league appearance. With no room at the inn, the Yankees traded Thomas to the expansion Los Angeles Angels for former Yankee, Bob Cerv. Thomas thrived in his rookie campaign with the Angels. Dividing his time between the outfield and first base, he hit .285 with 24 home runs. 

On September 5, 1961, in a doubleheader against the Kansas City A's at Municipal Stadium in Kansas City, Thomas had his greatest day in the major leagues and one of the greatest doubleheader hitting performances in major league history. In Game 1, Thomas went five-for-five with four singles and a double, as the A's beat the Angels, 7-3. In the second game, Thomas went four-for-six with three home runs and eight RBIs. The A's prevailed again, 13-12. Thomas' nine hits in a doubleheader tied a major league record that still stands. The last player to achieve the feat, and the first since Thomas did it, was Christian Yelich of the Florida Marlins in 2015.

Thomas had another fine season in 1962, hitting .290, with 26 home runs and 104 RBIs. He was named to the 1962 American League All-Star team for the only time in his career. After the 1962 season, Thomas had knee surgery to correct an old high school football injury. After the surgery, he was never the same player. His batting average and power production both fell off precipitously. He bounced from the Angels to several other teams and even spent one season in Japan, but he could not recapture the magic of his first two seasons. He retired from playing at age 34 in 1970 and went to work as a coach and minor league manager for the Cardinals. Eventually he moved to the Cardinals front office, where Bill Giles found him and brought him to Philadelphia.

During his playing days, Thomas' temper earned him the nickname "Mad Dog." He once was so incensed that what he considered inferior players were being promoted ahead of him that he stormed out of Yankees spring training, vowing to quit. He cooled down and came back. He was occasionally known to throw equipment around when he thought an umpire missed call. The legend goes that he once threw all his golf clubs into a lake during a charity golf tournament. When the caddie retrieved them, he threw them back into the lake again. 

Here, I believe, is the clue to what attracted Thomas to players like Dykstra, Kruk, and Hollins. Lee Thomas was an intense competitor, and he was looking for that sort of intensity from his players. The team he assembled for the 1993 Phillies, were certainly intense. As Harry Kalas memorably called them, this "whacky, wonderful, bunch of throwbacks." 

That 1993 team is a key part of Lee Thomas' legacy in Philadelphia. Another is Ed Wade, the architect of the 2000 teams, who was Thomas' protege. Old "Mad Dog" apparently curbed the temper when he got his front office jobs. Tributes to Thomas all indicated what a genuinely nice guy he was. Baseball lifer Lee Thomas is survived by his wife and four sons.