Not One Hall of a Pitcher

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

We should be happy about one thing regarding Bloody Sock Schilling’s recent retirement announcement: There was no teary press conference. Oh, you can bet he will break down at some point during the “exclusive” three-minute, in-depth “conversation” he has with a sympathetic slo-pitch tosser some time in the next month, but for now we can be thankful that Schilling did not produce a maudlin event, during which he tells us, “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry.”

Since he didn’t pitch last season, Schilling is now four years away from Hall of Fame eligibility. That means we have less time than usual to argue about his credentials. And, make no mistake; it’s going to be one helluva debate. Few players in recent baseball history are as polarizing as Schilling. He may not be in the class of BALCO Bonds, who divided fans into two camps: Realists and those who believe the Yankees’ 2010 pitching rotation will be Santa Claus, The Easter Bunny, The Tooth Fairy, Sasquatch and Whitey Ford, but Schilling was pretty divisive.

The trouble began during the Phillies’ improbable 1993 drive to the NL pennant. Schilling, who had shown glimpses of being something special the previous season by going 14-11 with a 2.35 ERA blossomed into a stalwart, winning 16 games and throwing a gem in the World Series. Fans loved him, but his teammates didn’t quite embrace his look-at-me qualities, such as covering his head with a towel in the dugout whenever volatile closer Wild Thing Williams took the mound, and calling into sports radio stations at all hours to advance his personal agenda. By the time he worked his way out of town by meddling in front-office affairs and demanding (rightfully so) a better supporting cast, Schilling wasn’t exactly the most popular player in the organization. He behaved himself better in Arizona, teaming with Randy Johnson to help the Serpents to the 2001 World Series title, but Schilling always preferred to air his concerns publicly, rather than handle them behind the scenes. That led to continued conflict with teammates, who favored man-to-man methods, rather than man-to-microphone.

When Schilling signed with the Red Sawx, he earned plaudits for announcing his arrival on sonsofsamhorn.net, a fan web site. It was a savvy move to gain support and popularity but again another Schilling tactic to keep himself in the spotlight. A mere press conference wasn’t enough. He had to commune with the people. Only, he wasn’t really communing, rather giving the illusion of hanging with them by posting on the site. Shrewd.

Then came the Bloody Sock. Whether that indeed was blood on the sock, or it was ketchup, Mercurochrome or Sloe Gin, the legend of the night has been overblown. That’s not necessarily Schilling’s fault, although he could have changed the sock once the bleeding had been stanched. But it shouldn’t have any bearing whatsoever on whether he gets into the Hall of Fame. Thousands of baseball players work through injuries; the big difference is they don’t celebrate it for the TV cameras. Chase Utley played just about the entire 2008 season with a torn labrum in his hip, but every time he was asked about his condition, he downplayed it. Perhaps Utley should have left the syringes used to give him painkilling injections lying around the clubhouse. Then again, given the climate in baseball these days, that wouldn’t have been such a good idea, since Utley didn’t want people to start calling him “Chuice.” But you get the idea. Utley could have played up his injury but didn’t.

Enough about Schilling the man, except to say that his work fighting ALS does deserve major kudos. A lot of professional athletes set up “foundations” and say they do charity work, when all they do is appear at a few events arranged by their minions. Schilling was – and is – committed to the fight and has built up some political capital because of it.

So, what about the Hall? This is a tricky one, because there are plenty of arguments on both sides. His 3,116 strikeouts are a compelling opening gambit, since the 3,000 number is something of a magic mark. He won 20 games three times, hardly overwhelming but more than Greg Maddux and most other pitchers with whom he is compared. Schilling was an animal during the 2001, ’04 and ’07 post-seasons, and his 11-2 career record in the playoffs and Series is impressive, indeed. Schilling had a 4.38 strikeouts:walks ratio, the best ever, and he had two seasons with double-digit complete games, quite an accomplishment in today’s seven-innings-or-bust climate. Those who support Schilling say he was the “dominant pitcher of his age,” which serves as the criteria for many arguments for the Hall. That’s the main case for Sandy Koufax’s truncated career, although let’s be honest, Schilling (and really nobody else) was not Sandy Koufax.

The anti-Schilling side has some pretty heavy artillery, too. His 216 wins are hardly overwhelming. They are three fewer than Kenny Rogers’ total, and he isn’t going to Cooperstown. Schilling pitched for 20 years, and though he battled injuries, he had only nine seasons in which he posted double-digit victory totals and an above .500 winning percentage. He never strung together more than three years of prosperity and had seven sub-.500 seasons, an 8-8 campaign and a 9-8 year. That doesn’t scream long-term greatness. And to those who look at his 3.45 ERA as lower than the average of the age, consider that Schilling pitched the majority of his career in the National League, which didn’t have a DH. Schilling never won a Cy Young Award, although he did finish second three times. While he does get points for his endurance, his 83 career complete games fall well short of Jack Morris’ 175.

Speaking of Morris, if Schilling goes into the Hall, so should Morris. Morris won 254 career games, had three 20-game seasons and 2,478 strikeouts. And what about Bert Blyleven, who won 287 games, struck out 3,701 and had a career 3.31 ERA? Even Jim Kaat, who won 283 career games, had a trio of 20-win seasons, a 3.45 ERA and 2,461 Ks can make a case if Schilling gets in.

When Sports Illustrated football writer Peter King discusses the credentials of those who are being considered for inclusion in the Pro Football Hall of Fame, for which he casts one of the few votes, he sometimes refers to players who belong in the “Hall of Very Good.” That seems to be Schilling. If we divorce ourselves from the bloody-sock drama and accept his post-season success as a strong argument, rather than an absolute requirement, for Hall inclusion, we see a pitcher who had several strong seasons during a 20-year career but not the kind of complete dominance during any prolonged stretch or longevity to close the deal.

Schilling will get plenty of support, and he already has his advance team working hard on his behalf. He’ll make some compelling arguments himself, you can count on that. But he’s not a Hall of Fame pitcher. And if he gets in, then voters had better be committed to enshrining a bunch of similarly very good hurlers, because they will have established a new standard.

And that will be worthy of some tears.

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EL HOMBRE SEZ: The West Michigan Whitecaps, a Class A minor-league baseball team, will offer fans a 4,800-calorie, four-pound hamburger this season. What’s the big deal about that? The Celtics have been serving up a 205-pound hot dog for the past three weeks: Stephon Marbury…Let’s hear it for the NFL’s new rule that prohibits players on the ground from hitting quarterbacks. What’s next, flag football? It’s unfortunate that Tom Brady tore a knee ligament last year in the opener when he was hit by a scrambling Kansas City lineman, but if the league protects quarterbacks any more, they’ll be able to sit in the pocket and get pedicures without worrying about getting hit…New Browns (and former Jets) coach Eric Mangini has issued an open invitation to Cowboy Quarterback to visit Cleveland’s training camp. Isn’t that nice? Maybe he can teach Brady Quinn and Derek Anderson to retire a couple times and hold a franchise hostage. Or, he can show them how to fade down the stretch of a season… Congratulations to Japan for winning the World Baseball Classic. Anybody who takes that as a sign that U.S. baseball is in trouble needs to add some HGH to their common-sense gland. Despite the best efforts of Majoke League Baseball and its propaganda partners, nobody cares. Okay, nobody in America cares. They went crazy in Tokyo – and then went back to their 90-hour work weeks…Catholics in southeast Michigan are furious with the Tigers for scheduling their home opener this season at 1:05 on Good Friday afternoon, right in the middle of the time Catholics believe Christ was on the cross. Talk about bad karma. Well, guess you can kiss those Central Division title hopes good-bye, Detroit. Here’s an idea: Next year sponsor a religious intolerance night and get the Lutherans, Methodists, Jews, Buddhists, Muslims and Shintoists mad at you, too. Brilliant.

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YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Andy Reid held a sit-down with local newspaper writers yesterday to give his spin on the Eagles’ off-season moves and to look ahead. As usual, it was enlightening and was sprinkled with the usual sampling of “I don’t want to get into that” “We’re always looking to improve our team” and “I’ll always look at something if there is a great player out there.” Truly enlightening. It is Reid’s prerogative to obfuscate and parry as much as he wants with the media. But must we be subjected to these semi-annual wastes of space that do little more than send the media diving into the morass of his answers with the same enthusiasm Kremlinologists used to reserve for analysis of who was in favor based on where they were standing on Lenin’s Tomb during the annual May Day festivities? Enough, already. Let Reid talk from the “podium” during the season and leave him alone the rest of the year. We’ll all be better for it.

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AND ANOTHER THING: The folks at NC2A HQ in Indianapolis must be thrilled with the name-brand Sweet 16 that has emerged from the original tourney pairings. All of the top three seeds survived, and no hyphenated schools, satellite campuses or colleges named for Colonial-era heroes can be found. Of course, the first two rounds were far more bland than usual, but safe is good when you’re investing so much money, especially in this economy. So, enjoy the games and keep the following in mind: Purdue over Connecticut; Villanova over Dook and Syracuse over Oklahoma. Enjoy.

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ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: This is the 250th “El Hombre,” and as the world embarks on the semiquincentennial celebrations of the column’s bicenquinquagenary, know that this has been a delightful ride that ain’t ending soon. So, to those who can’t stand the sarcasm and Animal House references – or for those demented minds who crave more – keep on reading. The best is yet to come.

-EH-