gonzomax, for the record, I don’t believe you have any interest in developing or refining your opinion; I believe that you have made your decision and will reject any evidence, no matter how compelling, that suggests you might be wrong. But, in the same spirit with which I still try to tell my dad that Barack Obama’s middle name does not mean that he is a sleeper terrorist sent to infiltrate the White House (an actual opinion held by my actual father, who is probably the most intelligent person I know), I will wade in here again.
Mostly because of this:
[QUOTE=gonzomax]
I can not believe how you guys accept these conjured up methodologies as actually relevant.
[/QUOTE]
First: AAAAAAAUUUUGGGGGHHHHH!!!
Of all the things that drive me crazy in sport, the tendency of people to refer to statistics that don’t support their pet theory as “conjured up” or “invented” is the most frustrating. It is particularly infuriating that you refer to Range Factor as “conjured up” while relying heavily on batting average to make your own points.
Other than the length of time for which it has been in use, batting average is absolutely no different from Range Factor. They are both incredibly simple rate statistics. Batting average is calculated by dividing hits (singles + doubles + triples + home runs [but not walks]) by opportunities to get a hit (At Bats). The result is a simple rate stat that describes the number of hits a player may be expected to get in a given at bat.
Range factor is just as simple. You divide outs (assists + putouts) by opportunities to get an out (innings), to achieve an “outs per inning” ratio, then multiply by nine to get number of outs per game. This is a perfectly reasonable way to measure fielding range, as long as your sample size is large. Sure, in the short term, playing surface, pitching staff, weather, and how hard the ball was hit will affect the number of outs a particular player will record. But over time, these factors will balance out.
A player with good range is likely to record more outs than a player with less range. Is this really such a difficult observation? The balls that Derek Jeter dives for, Ozzie Smith was picking up on a run - they both record the out. The balls that Ozzie Smith has to dive for, Derek Jeter watches roll into centerfield. Ozzie gets the out, Jeter doesn’t. Over time, because he has more range, Ozzie gets more assists than Derek, resulting in a higher range factor if they play a similar number of innings. What on earth is wrong with this approach?
And it’s particularly frustrating that you point out the confounding factors that apply to Range Factor, but don’t seem to realize that batting average - which you are relying upon to judge Ozzie Smith’s offensive contributions - is subject to the same factors. Weather, field dimensions and conditions, playing surface, the quality of pitchers faced, the quality of opposing defense: all of these substantially affect the likelihood that a player will get a hit. But you don’t dismiss batting average as a “conjured statistic” because of it. Why not?
More broadly, you’re undervaluing defense. Defensive play can lead to huge run swings. If the bases are loaded with two outs, and Joe Slugger hits a ball up the middle and Derek Jeter can’t get to it, two runs score, and the inning continues with a runner on third base. If Ozzie Smith is sufficiently better than Jeter and gets to that ball, he records the out. Smith has just changed the run differential by two runs. If, in the bottom of the same inning, Smith strikes out with a guy on first, and Jeter hits a two-run homer, then in that inning their respective contributions to the final score are identical. Defense contributes to the final score of the game. Now, there are statistics that calculate the degree to which a given player’s defensive contribution affects actual run scoring, but I have no doubt you’ll dismiss them as “conjured” so I won’t bother. But knocking Ozzie Smith for not hitting 20 home runs a season is missing the point, the same way knocking Randy Johnson for hitting .176 is - they contribute to the final score in other ways.
Also, you’re under-rating Ozzie’s offensive ability. You’ve fetishized batting average, the worst statistic ever, so you’re ignoring that, for most of his career, Smith was a pretty patient hitter who drew a fair share of walks. His on-base percentage was above .350 in many years. He had good speed and was an 80% basestealer for his career with 580 steals (generally, 80% is the point where basestealing becomes a net benefit to the team). He didn’t hit home runs, but neither was he a “Punch and Judy” hitter; he hit a good number of doubles and had a respectable slugging percentage for a shortstop most years. He also didn’t strike out much.
Now, look, I know you have disdain for modern statistics, but still, let’s look at one: OPS+, which basically combines slugging percentage and on-base percentage, then adjusts them against the rest of the league. An OPS+ of 100 for a given year means that you are at exactly the league average (for all hitters). For most of Ozzie Smith’s career, his OPS+ varied between 90 and 105, with outliers in either direction.
So that means, in most seasons, Ozzie Smith was a league-average offensive player (not including his basestealing and contributions as a baserunner in general, which almost surely increased his overall offensive value to above average). Now, remember, that’s not “league-average for a shortstop,” that’s league average period; it includes the first basemen, third basemen, and outfielders who are generally expected to be far superior offensive players. Knowign that shortstops usually are bad offensive players, you can deduce from that that Smith was very likely a better offensive player than most shortstops of his time.
Let’s see. In 1985, when the Cardinals went to the World Series, Ozzie Smith hit .275/.355/.361, with an OPS+ of 101. Here are the other starting shortstops in the National League that year.
Rafael Santana (.257/.295/.302, OPS+ = 62)
Hubie Brooks (.269/.310/.413, OPS+ = 106)
Shawn Dunston (.260/.310/.388, OPS+ = 87)
Steve Jeltz (.189/.283/.219, OPS+ = 41)
Sam Khalifa (.238/.307/.319, OPS+ = 77)
Mariano Duncan (.244/.293/.340, OPS+ = 79)
Dave Concepcion (.252/.314/.330, OPS+ = 78)
Craig Reynolds (.272/.293/.393, OPS+ = 93)
Garry Templeton (.282/.332/.377, OPS+ = 99)
Rafael Ramirez (.248/.272/.333, OPS+ = 65)
Jose Uribe (.237/.285/.315, OPS+ = 72)
So, purely as a hitter - without regard to defense or baserunning - Ozzie Smith had the second-highest batting average among shortstops in the National League. He blew away the field in terms of actually getting on base; his OBP is more than 20 points higher than the next highest shortstop. Ah, but he’s a Punch and Judy hitter, right, with no power? Well, his slugging percentage ranks fifth among 12 - not exactly Alex Rodriguez, but that’s still a bit of pop, given the positional comparisons. OPS+ rates him as the second best hitter at this position in the National League in 1985. Of course, OBP is probably a bit more important than slugging percentage, so you could make an argument that Ozzie was a more useful hitter than Hubie Brooks, too. Throw in baserunning, and Ozzie was clearly the best offensive player at shortstop in the National League.
So, he’s the best at his position in his league offensively, and he’s the best of all time defensively. If that isn’t a Hall of Fame resume, than no shortstop deserves induction anywhere, ever, except for Honus Wagner, I guess.