Baseball Guru
03-05-2002, 08:34 AM
Multiple factors and changes in game diminish Bonds’ HR title
Oct. 5 — Not only is Barry Bonds a great player, he is one of the greatest players of all time. I’m sure he would have been among the best in any era. But how can baseball fans get all that excited about seeing the all-time home-run record fall for the second time in three years, when it had been broken only once in the previous 71 seasons? How much does history really mean if it’s made every five minutes?
October 11 — San Francisco Giants slugger Barry Bonds, whose 73 home runs this season broke Mark McGwire’s record, talks with NBC’s Bob Costas about the legends of the game and his future in baseball.
THE HOME RUN used to be a punctuation mark and a highlight. Now it comes too frequently, too easily. It’s had a numbing effect. Much has been made of Bonds’ supposedly aloof personality contributing to a general indifference concerning his record chase. I think it’s a minor factor.
Here’s the bigger one: Ruth’s record of 60 was in the books for 34 years before Maris barely broke it in 1961. And even when it became apparent in ’98 that McGwire would surpass Maris, it was still No. 62 that was more exciting and meaningful than his 70th.
When he reached it, McGwire’s actions — going into the stands and embracing the Maris family — were symbolic of something baseball has that no other sport can claim. Not only the linking of generations, but the historical resonance as well. In no other sport would the breaking of a record be treated in such fashion. And that’s what has been lost now.
FORGET ANY COMPARISONS
In the mid-1990s, I started to say that baseball had been ripped from its historical moorings, that the entire context of the game was becoming so distorted, comparisons of players from era to era were rendered irrelevant. It amazes and disappoints me that so few baseball writers and broadcasters have placed this point in perspective. Lately however, writers like Murray Chass of the New York Times and Bernie Miklasz of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, have done a good job of providing some context.
50-Homer Seasons
Since 1995
Year Player #
2001 Barry Bonds 73
Sammy Sosa 64
Luis Gonzalez 57
Alex Rodriguez 52
2000 Sammy Sosa 50
1999 Mark McGwire 65
Sammy Sosa 63
1998 Mark McGwire 70
Sammy Sosa 66
Ken Griffey Jr. 56
Greg Vaughn 50
1997 Mark McGwire 58
Ken Griffey Jr. 56
1996 Mark McGwire 52
Brady Anderson 50
1995 Albert Belle 50
Consider that from 1920, the beginning of the lively-ball era, through 1994, there had been only 18 50-home run seasons in all of baseball history, and only three since Maris hit his 61 in 1961. However, with four players having gone past 50 this season, it has now been done 16 times since 1995. Seven years to produce nearly the same number of 50-homer seasons as the first 75 baseball seasons following the end of the dead-ball era. And 60 — slugging’s Holy Grail — reached only twice in all of baseball history prior to 1998, will have been exceeded six times since.
For decades and decades, if a guy hit 30 homers and drove in 100 runs, he had a great season. And if he averaged 30 homers and 100 RBIs for a long stretch of time, he was a certain Hall of Famer. But we will see players come out of this era with better raw lifetime statistics than many first-rate Hall of Famers, yet who themselves, will not even be consistent All-Stars. Look, there have always been changes from era to era, but at no time in the last half-century or more were the changes so extreme as to render all the previous benchmarks irrelevant.
Baseball is the only sport where history matters to such a great extent. Other than Wilt Chamberlain scoring 100 points or averaging 50 a game for an entire season, what NBA stats are instantly recalled by most fans? Jim Brown is by consensus football’s greatest player, yet do fans really know what his all-time rushing record was? Yet in baseball, dozens of records and individual performances are well-known and serve as enduring markers of greatness.
So if history matters in baseball, how can it not be a concern that the whole frame of historical reference has been distorted, if not destroyed?
October 6 — Giants’ superstar Barry Bonds hits homers No. 71 and 72 to shatter Mark McGwire’s HR record of 70 and then gets emotional.
As has been noted elsewhere, there are multiple factors contributing to the dramatic changes in baseball. First off, the ball is juiced and so are a lot of the players. While it wouldn’t be responsible to accuse specific individuals, you’d have to have your head in the sand not to think that substantial numbers of players are on steroids. Tony Gwynn recently told me that he thought at least 30 percent of the players in baseball today are juiced.
Take a look at the tape of any game from a decade ago and notice the body types of the players.
Look at a guy like Kirk Gibson, who was a former college football player and considered a big guy at the time. By today’s standards, he’d be considered lean, almost wiry. It’s as if 100 years of evolution occurred in the space of four or five years. Who’s kidding whom?
In addition, many people feel that in the last few years, bats have been made of much harder wood. Certainly they are lighter, designed with thinner handles to get more bat speed. You’ve also got the diluted pitching, hitters able to crowd the plate with less fear of being brushed back, smaller ballparks, and no stigma attached to striking out. It seems if you can just get the ball in the air today, it’s got a pretty good chance of going out. It’s not uncommon to see guys fooled on pitches and still hit the ball out to the opposite field. Balls not hit well at all leave the bat and still pin an outfielder to the wall. So with that in mind, why wouldn’t you swing for a homer almost every time up?
To reiterate, I think Barry Bonds is a truly great player. But I also think it is impossible to fairly compare what he and other stars are doing today to the performances of great players of even the recent past.
Sammy Sosa has hit 243 home runs over the last four years, an average of more than 60 per season, yet has never led the league.
Last season, a sportswriter made this poorly-considered point: Athletes are bigger, stronger and better in all sports, so why not baseball? What’s the big deal? But if that were entirely true, wouldn’t it make sense that a great baseball player in 1992 would have been that much better than a great player in 1952? But in truth, the difference between today and 10 years ago is far greater than from the early-90s to 40-years before.
Consider that Bonds was already a veteran of five seasons when the 1990s began. In a four-year span from ’90-’93, he was the National League’s MVP three times, and probably could have won it all four years. His average number of home runs during that stretch? Less than 35, with 46 being his high.
And Bonds wasn’t alone. Sammy Sosa was in the league then. So was McGwire. They were good, but weren’t doing anything like they’re doing today. Sosa had never hit 40 home runs prior to his 66 homers in ’98, and McGwire was in the league 10 years before he broke 50 in ’96.
There are people who say of me, “He wants the game to be like it was when he was a kid.” That’s nonsense. I’d be happy with how it was when I was about 40. When the game still felt authentic and still had some historical coherence.
Oct. 5 — Not only is Barry Bonds a great player, he is one of the greatest players of all time. I’m sure he would have been among the best in any era. But how can baseball fans get all that excited about seeing the all-time home-run record fall for the second time in three years, when it had been broken only once in the previous 71 seasons? How much does history really mean if it’s made every five minutes?
October 11 — San Francisco Giants slugger Barry Bonds, whose 73 home runs this season broke Mark McGwire’s record, talks with NBC’s Bob Costas about the legends of the game and his future in baseball.
THE HOME RUN used to be a punctuation mark and a highlight. Now it comes too frequently, too easily. It’s had a numbing effect. Much has been made of Bonds’ supposedly aloof personality contributing to a general indifference concerning his record chase. I think it’s a minor factor.
Here’s the bigger one: Ruth’s record of 60 was in the books for 34 years before Maris barely broke it in 1961. And even when it became apparent in ’98 that McGwire would surpass Maris, it was still No. 62 that was more exciting and meaningful than his 70th.
When he reached it, McGwire’s actions — going into the stands and embracing the Maris family — were symbolic of something baseball has that no other sport can claim. Not only the linking of generations, but the historical resonance as well. In no other sport would the breaking of a record be treated in such fashion. And that’s what has been lost now.
FORGET ANY COMPARISONS
In the mid-1990s, I started to say that baseball had been ripped from its historical moorings, that the entire context of the game was becoming so distorted, comparisons of players from era to era were rendered irrelevant. It amazes and disappoints me that so few baseball writers and broadcasters have placed this point in perspective. Lately however, writers like Murray Chass of the New York Times and Bernie Miklasz of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, have done a good job of providing some context.
50-Homer Seasons
Since 1995
Year Player #
2001 Barry Bonds 73
Sammy Sosa 64
Luis Gonzalez 57
Alex Rodriguez 52
2000 Sammy Sosa 50
1999 Mark McGwire 65
Sammy Sosa 63
1998 Mark McGwire 70
Sammy Sosa 66
Ken Griffey Jr. 56
Greg Vaughn 50
1997 Mark McGwire 58
Ken Griffey Jr. 56
1996 Mark McGwire 52
Brady Anderson 50
1995 Albert Belle 50
Consider that from 1920, the beginning of the lively-ball era, through 1994, there had been only 18 50-home run seasons in all of baseball history, and only three since Maris hit his 61 in 1961. However, with four players having gone past 50 this season, it has now been done 16 times since 1995. Seven years to produce nearly the same number of 50-homer seasons as the first 75 baseball seasons following the end of the dead-ball era. And 60 — slugging’s Holy Grail — reached only twice in all of baseball history prior to 1998, will have been exceeded six times since.
For decades and decades, if a guy hit 30 homers and drove in 100 runs, he had a great season. And if he averaged 30 homers and 100 RBIs for a long stretch of time, he was a certain Hall of Famer. But we will see players come out of this era with better raw lifetime statistics than many first-rate Hall of Famers, yet who themselves, will not even be consistent All-Stars. Look, there have always been changes from era to era, but at no time in the last half-century or more were the changes so extreme as to render all the previous benchmarks irrelevant.
Baseball is the only sport where history matters to such a great extent. Other than Wilt Chamberlain scoring 100 points or averaging 50 a game for an entire season, what NBA stats are instantly recalled by most fans? Jim Brown is by consensus football’s greatest player, yet do fans really know what his all-time rushing record was? Yet in baseball, dozens of records and individual performances are well-known and serve as enduring markers of greatness.
So if history matters in baseball, how can it not be a concern that the whole frame of historical reference has been distorted, if not destroyed?
October 6 — Giants’ superstar Barry Bonds hits homers No. 71 and 72 to shatter Mark McGwire’s HR record of 70 and then gets emotional.
As has been noted elsewhere, there are multiple factors contributing to the dramatic changes in baseball. First off, the ball is juiced and so are a lot of the players. While it wouldn’t be responsible to accuse specific individuals, you’d have to have your head in the sand not to think that substantial numbers of players are on steroids. Tony Gwynn recently told me that he thought at least 30 percent of the players in baseball today are juiced.
Take a look at the tape of any game from a decade ago and notice the body types of the players.
Look at a guy like Kirk Gibson, who was a former college football player and considered a big guy at the time. By today’s standards, he’d be considered lean, almost wiry. It’s as if 100 years of evolution occurred in the space of four or five years. Who’s kidding whom?
In addition, many people feel that in the last few years, bats have been made of much harder wood. Certainly they are lighter, designed with thinner handles to get more bat speed. You’ve also got the diluted pitching, hitters able to crowd the plate with less fear of being brushed back, smaller ballparks, and no stigma attached to striking out. It seems if you can just get the ball in the air today, it’s got a pretty good chance of going out. It’s not uncommon to see guys fooled on pitches and still hit the ball out to the opposite field. Balls not hit well at all leave the bat and still pin an outfielder to the wall. So with that in mind, why wouldn’t you swing for a homer almost every time up?
To reiterate, I think Barry Bonds is a truly great player. But I also think it is impossible to fairly compare what he and other stars are doing today to the performances of great players of even the recent past.
Sammy Sosa has hit 243 home runs over the last four years, an average of more than 60 per season, yet has never led the league.
Last season, a sportswriter made this poorly-considered point: Athletes are bigger, stronger and better in all sports, so why not baseball? What’s the big deal? But if that were entirely true, wouldn’t it make sense that a great baseball player in 1992 would have been that much better than a great player in 1952? But in truth, the difference between today and 10 years ago is far greater than from the early-90s to 40-years before.
Consider that Bonds was already a veteran of five seasons when the 1990s began. In a four-year span from ’90-’93, he was the National League’s MVP three times, and probably could have won it all four years. His average number of home runs during that stretch? Less than 35, with 46 being his high.
And Bonds wasn’t alone. Sammy Sosa was in the league then. So was McGwire. They were good, but weren’t doing anything like they’re doing today. Sosa had never hit 40 home runs prior to his 66 homers in ’98, and McGwire was in the league 10 years before he broke 50 in ’96.
There are people who say of me, “He wants the game to be like it was when he was a kid.” That’s nonsense. I’d be happy with how it was when I was about 40. When the game still felt authentic and still had some historical coherence.