That was his main role with the A’s. 214 games, 88 PAs, 63 SBs.
Robina Muqimyar, who competed in a T-shirt and long pants, finished in 14.14 seconds. Among the factors hindering her performance was the fact she was not allowed – even after the fall of the Taliban – to train on an outdoor track, or in the company of men, in her native land. Muqimyar did finish ahead of Somalia’s Fartun Omar Abukar, who clocked 14.29 even after cutting from her own Lane 4 to the inside lane for the final 20 meters of her heat.
As for baseball players whose nicknames hint at their foibles, I give you Walter Beck, who made his debut with the St. Louis Browns in 1924 and his final big-league appearance in 1945. He only pitched in eleven of the 22 major-league seasons represented by that span, however, as his 38-69 record and 4.30 ERA weren’t good enough to keep him in “The Show” with consistency. Beck acquired his nickname of “Boom-Boom” during his days with the Phillies. Pitching in Philadelphia’s Baker Bowl, he often allowed opposing batters to smack drive after drive off the tin walls of the stadium, and the resultant booming sounds were enough to indicate to baseball-savvy passers-by that Beck must be on the mound.
As a Canucks fan who all to clearly remembers the 20 years it took them to finally ice a decent team… the worst player I ever saw play was a defenceman by the name of Randy Boyd.
He brought nothing to the table… he wasn’t big or fast or tough He had no kind of shot, nor could he pass. Everytime he was on the ice, something bad happened… he’d fall over skating backwards and the other team would get a breakaway… he’d have the puck hop over his stick and the other team would get a breakaway… he’d pass the puck directly to a guy on the other team and the other team would get a breakaway.
If you heard his name, usually it meant that the other team was about to score.
I’ve seen Brashear and Belak, and they both suck… but they’re nothing close to Randy Boyd.
Yes, but Alexander was originally signed by the Cubs as a position player. He may have done a substantial share of pinch (or “designated”) running while with the A’s but that wasn’t his only role unlike Herb Washington who was originally a track star and was used exclusively as a pinch/designated runner.
But Matt at least owned a fielding glove and batted occasionally, if not very well. Herb Washington apparently never had a plate appearance or a fielding play, and owned neither a bat or a fielder’s glove. Haskins was mainly a DH but did play a very few games in the outfield.
John Hopoate is probably the worst player in the history of Australian Rugby at least from a sportsmanship perspective.
I didn’t say it was. There’s a reason that I listed Washington first. 
Assuming that chess is a sport of the mind, here is an unmatchable performance in tournament play.
At the 1903 Monte Carlo tournament, in 26 rounds:
a Colonel Moreau scored no wins, no draws and 26 losses. :eek:
A more modern day comparison would be Ray Oyler , shortstop for the hapless Seattle Pilots the only years they played. He did hit a home run in the only Pilots game I ever attended. My highlight was having Boston SS Rico Petrocelli sign my Rico Petrocelli signature model baseball glove.
I don’t know how bad he really was, compared to the above, but Tommy Burleson of the Seattle Supersonics wasn’t much of a ball handler.
I think he was on the team (starting too) in 1979 when they won the championship, but everybody cringed, groaned, or laughed whenever he had to take the ball across the court. Good times.
It was an easy mistake to make but Burleson was gone from the Sonics by 1979 . Jack Sikma was the starting and he was pretty good. Dennis Awtrey and Tom LaGarde were the stiffs who backed him up, so Sikma, Lonnie Shelton and Paul Silas took must of the playing time at center and/or power forward.
Today one of the members of the 2002 Jamaican team won silver as brakeman on the two person Canadian team. Yay Lascelles Brown!
A few quick comments as to why Bergen was a vastly worse hitter than Hegan:
Batting averages actually weren’t much lower when Bergen and Hegan’s eras are compared. Over Bergen’s 11-year career, the average major league hitter hit .258, and Bergen hit .170. Over Hegan’s career, the average major league hitter hit .265 - only seven points higher - and Hegan hit .228.
Also, it’s a bit misleading to say “nobody hit for power” when Bergen played. It would be more correct to say that hardly anyone hit homeruns. Players hit way more triples, and probably also more doubles, in Bergen’s time. While that’s not to say the two leagues had equal offensive production, it’s closer than one might expect. The average OPS during Hegan’s career was .735, while during Bergen’s it was .656. Hegan’s OPS was .639, just over 100 points lower than the average player. Bergen, on the other hand, had an OPS of .395 - over 250 points lower than average.
Ultimately, this is all reflected in their relative OPS+ (which is essentially OBP and SLG added together, and then compared to the league average): Hegan’s is 74, Bergen’s is 20.
How Bergen and Hegan compare as complete players would depend largely on their fielding abilities. I’d guess Bergen probably had a rifle arm - stolen bases were a much more integral part of the deadball game than during the 40s.
Oyler was the classic “good field, no hit” player. His biggest year was with Detroit in 1968, when he hit so badly (OBP of .212) that manager Mayo Smith had Mickey Stanley – an outfielder who had never played shortstop before – play the position in the World Series.
The Grand National steeplechase is the biggest horse race in Britain and one of the biggest in the world. The Duc of Albuquerque is legendary for his ability to not even finish the race year after year. From The Book of Heroic Failures:
"Few jockeys have been more regularly parted from their horse than the Duc of Albuquerque.
In 1963, he made racing history when bookies offered odds of 66-1 against his finishing the Grand National on horseback. Dividing his time equally between the saddle and the stretcher, this Spanish aristocrat entered the National seven times with impressively consistent results.
Generally he would start with the others, gallop briefly and then wake up in the ICU of the Royal Liverpool Infirmary. It was the fences that caused the trouble.
In 1952, the Duc fell at the sixth fence and almost broke his neck. In 1963, it was the fourth. In 1965, his horse collapsed and in 1973 his stirrup broke. He clung on for eight fences before being sent into inevitable orbit.
In 1974, he fell off during training and staff at the casualty unit were surprised to see him wheeled in before the race had even begun. Undetered, this fine man rode in the National with a broken collar bone and a leg in plaster.
‘I sat like sack of potatoes,’ he said in his faltering English, ‘and gave horse no help.’ This may explain how he came to complete the course for the only time in his splendid career."
I nominate the entire Cumberland University football team of 1916, who lost a football game 222-0 to the John Heisman-coached Georgia Tech Yellow Jackets.
An interesting note to that game was that it was called with 15 minutes to go. :eek:
Having just watched the Nordic sprint event, I remembered another.
Around the same year as Eddie the Eagle, wasn’t there a cross-country skier in the Olympics from somewhere like Equatorial Guinea who looked like he’d hardly ever worn a pair of skis in his life? I just remember the image of him slowly trudging along the course, long after everyone else had finished.
I tried searching the Olympic database, but they only list medal winners.
I dunno about 1988, but there was a Kenyan skiier, Phil Boit, in Salt Lake. The winner embraced him as he finally crossed the finish line. Great moment.
Both my choices, though they are not worst players ever (being olympians n’ all) but definately amongst the most heroicaly awful losers.