Johan Santana and the Hall of Fame

Johan Santana was named Friday to the Twins Hall of Fame. He's also on the ballot for the "real" Hall of Fame. but has no realistic chance of election to Cooperstown and is likely "one-and-done."

Which, much as it pains me to say it, is the right decision. Santana spent four-and-a-half years in the Twins rotation; he was, in that span, the most dominant starting pitcher the franchise has had since Walter Johnson in the first quarter of the 20th century. He had one really good year with the Mets, two years in which you can see the durability diminishing, and then the injuries.

Santana hasn't abandoned his hopes of pitching again, but he's 38 and he hasn't pitched, majors or minors, since 2012, which is how he wound up on the ballot.

Let's do some comparisions to two guys often cited by Santana supporters as reasons to induct No. 57:

Pitcher A: 138-78 (.679). 2,025 innings, 136 ERA+, 51.4 bWAR, 1-3 3.97 in postseason.
Pitcher B: 150-83 (.644). 1,967 innings, 131 ERA+, 44/9 bWAR, 2-2, 2.88 in postseason
Pitcher C: 165-87 (.655). 2,324 innings, 131 ERA+, 49.0 bWAR, 4-3, 0.95 in postseason

Santana is Pitcher A, Dizzy Dean is B, Sandy Koufax is C. And yeah, Santana doesn't come off badly in that company. All three had dominant careers truncated by injury.

Where Santana's really at a disadvantage to the two Hall of Famers is the postseason. Dean and Koufax not only put up better numbers in October, they were the dominant figures on World Series winners. Santana never pitched in the Series.

Another, more subtle factor: Dean and Koufax pitched more in their peak years than Santana did, which means they did more to help their teams. Dean had five seasons in which he averaged more than 300 innings. Koufax had three 300-inning seasons; it's no coincidence that those were the three years the Dodgers reach the World Series during his prime. Santana's heaviest workload was 234.1.

And there's the "fame" aspect to it. I'll guarantee you, Dizzy Dean and Sandy Koufax were much bigger stars than Santana, with much more impact on the culture.

Which leads to this tweet from the great Bill James:

Regarding Koufax and Santana. . .you might measure a Yak and a Tiger and find that they are the same height, the same weight, and have the same life span. Nonetheless, a Yak is not a Tiger.

— Bill James Online (@billjamesonline) December 24, 2017

I loved going to the Dome to see Santana pitch, and I treasure those memories. He ain't Dean, and he ain't Koufax.

The Sunday Funnies

For a time during World War II, radio broadcasters were forbidden from mentioning the weather. This was on the theory that such information could aid enemy pilots.

The edict posed a problem for baseball broadcasts during rain delays. On one occasion, Dizzy Dean and his booth partner killed more than an hour with chatter during a delay without ever mentioning why they weren't describing the game.

Finally Ol' Diz had had enough.

"If you want to know why they ain't playing, just stick your head out the window,"

The Sunday funnies

Dizzy Dean was used as a pinch runner in Game Four of the 1934 World Series. That's a move one doesn't see very often -- a pitcher, much less the staff ace, pinch-running -- and what happened to Dean is probably part of the reason.

A Cardinal batter hit a likely double-play grounder; Dean went into second base standing up in an attempt to break up the double play; and the relay throw from the pivot man hit Dean right in the forehead.

So they picked up the 30-game winner and hauled him off to a hospital. A Detroit paper the next day is reputed to have run the banner headline:

X-RAYS OF DEAN'S HEAD REVEAL NOTHING

Dizzy's brother, Paul Dean (19 wins that season himself) assured reporters his beloved older brother was fine: "He was talking all the way to the hospital."

"What did he say?" inquired a reporter.

"Oh, he wasn't sayin' nothing. He was jus' talkin'."

The Sunday Funnies

Before the 1934 World Series, Dizzy Dean approached sportswriter Grantland Rice. The Cardinals ace wanted Rice to help him persuade manager Frankie Frisch to let him pitch every game of the upcoming Series against the Detroit Tigers.

"Be serious, Dizzy," Rice said. "You can't expect to win four straight games."

"I know I can't," Dean said. "But I can win four out of five."

Pedro the Great

Yes, he was the losing pitcher Thursday night. But it was fascinating to watch Pedro Martinez pick apart the vaunted Yankees lineup with an 88-mph fastball — and his change, and guile, and an occasional curve.

His place in baseball history is secure. As imposing as Johan Santana's run in the middle part of this decade was for the Twins, Martinez' run with Boston at the turn of the century was far superior. In a six-year span (beginning with 1997, his last season with Montreal — after which he was traded for a package headed by Carl Pavano) Martinez finished first in the Cy Young voting three times, second twice.

He racked up — in the height of the steroid era, in Fenway Park no less — ERAs of 2.07, 1.74, 2.39 (injury year), 2.26 and 2.22.

His peak velocity Thursday was about 10 mph lower than it was in his prime, but he has the great change and the command and the sheer pitching intelligence to make it work. He is one of those pitchers who can win with nothing as long as he is physically able to take the mound.

One of the runs scored off him came on a fly ball that would have been an out in any other current park; another was set up by a base hit off the end of the bat.

He is this era's Dizzy Dean, with a career shaped differently by the game's changing environment. Dean had a brilliant career cut short because he was used too hard; Pedro has survived injury after injury in part because his managers seldom pushed him to his limits. (Martinez has never pitched even 250 innings in a season.)

There is another parallel. In 1938, the Cubs picked up Dean for their stretch run, knowing he was injured, knowing his fast ball was gone. Ol' Diz went 7-1 with a 1.81 ERA for the Cubbies and helped them sneak into the World Series.

Where he started Game 2. Against the Yankees of Joe DiMaggio, Lou Gehrig and Bill Dickey. And held a one-run lead (3-2) into the eighth inning, working with his change, his command, his pitching intelligence, before it all fell apart on him. Teams didn't have specialty bullpens in the late 30s; Dean was expected to go the distance. He lost 6-3.