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Overview
Filled with biographical anecdotes, batting stats and historical comparisons, here is the one book young fans can use to become instant experts in baseball's great debate.
Who is it: Babe Ruth? Ted Williams? Ty Cobb? Mark McGwire? or . . .?
Here is your one-stop resource for answering the question all baseball fans ask: Who is the best batter ever? You'll find thirty-two of baseball's greatest hitters, with each player's batting statistics, special achievements and records, along with interesting anecdotes and photographs.
With all this great information, Who Is Baseball's Greatest Hitter? is more than just a book of stats. Experienced sports writer Jeff Kisseloff gives young readers the tools to analyze, compare and contrast each player's career batting records. Unlike other baseball books, this one challenges the reader to make his own choices and add his own favorite batters to the debate.
Can you match the question on the left with the player on the right?
1) Who hit 755 home Runs? A) Mark McGwire
2) Who hit .367 lifetime? B) Hank Aaron
3) Who has the best home run/at bat ratio? C) Ty Cobb
And the big question, which statistic matters most?
Who Is Baseball's Greatest Hitter?
Answers: 1-B, 2-C, 3-A
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781466869080 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Henry Holt and Co. (BYR) |
| Publication date: | 04/22/2014 |
| Sold by: | Macmillan |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 144 |
| File size: | 2 MB |
| Age Range: | 10 - 14 Years |
About the Author
Jeff Kisseloff began his journalism career as a sportswriter and has since written two highly praised books for adults. He was an editor for a Scholastic magazine and is the author of Who Is Baseball's Greatest Hitter? and a CD-ROM, Baseball's Greatest Hits. His most prized possession is a brick from Ebbets Field. He lives in Sleepy Hollow, New York.
Read an Excerpt
Who Is Baseball's Greatest Hitter?
By Jeff Kisseloff
Henry Holt and Company
Copyright © 2000 Jeff KisseloffAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4668-6908-0
CHAPTER 1
LET'S TALK HITTING
A guy spots a buddy sitting on a park bench. Perched next to his friend is a dog. The fellow says, "This is Rover. He's the smartest dog in the world. He talks."
"No way."
"Yup. Listen, I'll ask him a question. Rover, who hit 60 home runs in a season in 1927?"
The dog barks, "Roof, roof."
"See?" his owner says proudly. "He said Babe Ruth. Pretty amazing, huh?"
"That's ridiculous," says his friend.
"No, it isn't," insists the owner. "Listen, I'll ask him another."
He looks at his dog. "Rover, who was the first player to hit 700 homers in his career?"
"Roof, roof," says the dog.
"See, I told you he can speak."
"C'mon, he's just barking," says his friend. "I'll tell you what, let me ask him a question."
"Okay."
The friend thinks for a second. "Okay, Rover, answer this. Who hit .367 for his career and was called the greatest hitter who ever lived?"
The dog goes, "Roof, roof."
The friend says with disgust, "See? Everyone knows the answer isn't Babe Ruth. Your dog can't talk."
The dog's ears perk up. Suddenly it says, "Or was it Ty Cobb?"
This book will try to answer the same question the dog was pondering: who is baseball's greatest hitter? But at the same time it will teach you about statistics and how to judge and weigh their value.
Along the way, it will explore the game's wonderful history. No sport has a past as rich as baseball's. Just look at the colorful nicknames of some of the game's greatest players: the Babe, the Georgia Peach, Joltin' Joe, Dizzy, Big Six, the Big Train, the Big Hurt. And name a sport with more miracles, like the Miracle Braves of '14, the Miracle of Coogan's Bluff in '51, and the Miracle Mets of 1969.
Statistics are a big part of baseball's tradition. Say 367 to a baseball fan, and like the dog the person should answer, "Ty Cobb's lifetime batting average." How about 755? "Hank Aaron's home runs." Now, of course, there's 70 for Mark McGwire's incredible 1998 season and 66 for Sammy Sosa's brilliant run at the title.
Those are just some of the numbers that every serious baseball fan carries in his or her head, like Cy Young's 511 career victories, Nolan Ryan's seven no-hitters, and Joe DiMaggio's 56-game hitting streak. And here's another one — 2,632, the number of consecutive games played by Cal Ripken, Jr.
Debating what those numbers mean is as much a part of baseball's tradition as the seventh-inning stretch. It even has a name: the hot stove league, because in the old days during the winter when farmers didn't have much to do, they would gather round the stove and talk baseball.
It's no different today. Everybody has an opinion about who was the greatest team, the best centerfielder, or the smartest manager. Those arguments are often based on statistics. By the time you finish reading this book, you'll know many of baseball's most important statistics, and you'll be able to join in those conversations with some thoughts of your own.
The question our hot stove league will be debating is who is the greatest hitter in baseball history. But this book isn't only about numbers. The statistics are gateways to hundreds of stories about the players and the games that have made baseball the national pastime.
For example, Ty Cobb's lifetime batting average tells you he must have rapped out a lot of hits. But read further. You'll learn how he got some of them by sharpening his cleats like knifepoints before every game to terrorize an infielder when he would slide into a base.
Ted Williams was the last man to hit over .400. But there's a story that goes along with it that you will read about in the section on the Splendid Splinter. It tells you much more about him than his batting average does.
In that way, statistics are more than just numbers, and this book is about more than just baseball. It's about comparing, something you do every day whether you realize it or not.
Let's say your mother wants you to ride your bike to the store to pick up a loaf of bread. On the shelf are two loaves of whole wheat. One is homemade, and the other is a brand name. You love whole wheat bread with your peanut butter and jelly. Which one will you buy? They both cost the same, but maybe one has ten more slices. Which is worth more? Sounds easy. But wait. Maybe the one that has fewer slices tastes better. On the other hand, maybe the one that normally tastes better is three days older, so it's not as fresh as the other. So which will it be? You'll have to weigh the different factors and make your decision.
As you decide on the best hitter in baseball history, your skills at comparison shopping will be tested in much the same way. Maybe two hitters have the same average. Maybe one hit more home runs; maybe the other drove in more runs. But maybe he played with better players. Is it any wonder that Lou Gehrig had so many runs batted in? Look who was hitting in front of him — Babe Ruth with his .342 lifetime average.
The point is there is more than meets the eye. That goes for when you are weighing players, bread, grades in school, cars, presidents, anything really that involves comparing two or more items. Sometimes, a single statistic can tell us all kinds of different things, and other times, it will tell us very little. That one loaf may give you more but it may not be tastier.
Let's take a famous baseball statistic: 61. That's the number of home runs that Roger Maris hit in 1961, setting the major league record for homers in a season. It topped Ruth's old record by one and stood until Mark McGwire pounded it in 1998.
So until Big Mac came along, Maris was the game's greatest home run hitter. Let's look at a few more numbers. Ruth hit 714 home runs over his career; Maris hit 275. Here's something else: Ruth hit his 60 home runs in a 154-game season. In 1961, the major league season was 162 games. So was Maris a better home run hitter than Ruth? Hardly. But he had some season in 1961, didn't he? And it wasn't easy. The story goes that as Maris approached Ruth's record, the pressure on him became so intense that his hair began to fall out.
Ruth didn't have that kind of pressure. When he hit 61, he beat his own record of 59. He set that record in 1921. You know who was second in 1921? Bob Meusel. With 24! That's how dominating Ruth was.
So who do you think is the best hitter who ever lived? How about today's big heroes, like McGwire, Ken Griffey, Jr., Barry Bonds, Frank Thomas, or Tony Gwynn? What about yesterday's giants like Big Ed Delahanty, Sam Thompson, or Tris Speaker? Or who was that guy on the Cardinals your grandfather is always talking about, Stan Musial? There was also Honus Wagner, Rogers Hornsby, and George Sisler. Never heard of them? You will have after you read this book.
Each of the following chapters features a single player. And each argues why this player should be considered among the best. At the end of each chapter is a small section called "The Rundown." In it, "Hits" summarizes the arguments about what makes the player so great, while "Outs" suggests why the player may not have been the best.
To make things easier, we have already pared the list down. Players like Ducky Medwick, Pete Rose, Reggie Jackson, Mike Piazza were (or are) all terrific hitters. You can make a strong case to include each of them in this book, but in one way or another they weren't quite as stellar as the other players already included. Do you disagree? That's fine, because in the end, it's up to you to weigh the information and decide. If you think there's a solid case for Rose or Piazza, make it. We've included all 32 players' important lifetime statistics, so you can do some additional figuring for yourself. Maybe you will find a new angle to clinch your argument.
How the Game Has Changed
Comparing numbers when it comes to baseball players is more complicated than you think. That's because the game has changed so much over the years. If it wasn't for the diamond and nine players on the field, you might not recognize a baseball game from the 1870s or 1890s if it was played today. Back then pitchers could take a running start before throwing home, and they couldn't raise their arms above their shoulders. Also, the batter could tell the pitcher where he wanted the ball, high or low.
Fielders played with mitts that were barely larger than today's winter gloves, and they played on fields that were as rough as the neighborhood schoolyard. There would be a rope strung across the outfield, and fans (called "cranks" then) would stand behind it and watch the game. If a player happened to hit a ball into the roped area, the outfielder would have to chase it. Of course, if the outfielder was on the visiting team, the crowd was not going to help him find the ball. Sometimes they even hid it!
Since that period, many rule changes and new strategies and techniques have continued to change the game. Even today, the game is different from the way it was 20 or 30 years ago. Thirty years from now, people will look back at the early 2000s and say how old-fashioned it was.
Here are just some of the early rules changes. They are important to keep in mind when comparing players of different eras.
1879 — The pitcher's box is reduced from six feet to four.
1880 — A walk is eight balls.
1881 — The pitching distance is increased from 45 feet to 50.
1881 — Seven balls make a walk.
1881 — An out can no longer be recorded by catching a foul on one bounce.
1883 — The release point for the pitcher is as high as his shoulder, not higher.
1884 — The restrictions on pitching style are lifted, but the pitcher can take only one step before delivery.
1886 — Six balls are a walk.
1887 — Five balls are a walk.
1887 — For one season, a base on balls counts as a hit.
1887 — The batter can no longer call for a high or a low pitch.
1889 — The pitching box is replaced by a 12 inch × 4 inch slab.
1889 — A walk is now four balls.
1893 — The pitching distance is moved back to 60 feet 6 inches.
1901 — Up to two fouls are counted as strikes in the National League. (Before then they didn't count as strikes.)
1903 — Up to two fouls are counted as strikes in the American League.
Hitting Marshmallows
Around the year 1900 began what has since been called "the Dead Ball era" because the game was played with a ball that had a hard rubber core and a soft cover and couldn't be hit very far. The umpires only had a few balls to put into play. If one was hit into the stands, the usher would attempt (with only some success) to take it away from the fan who caught it.
As the ball got batted around during a game, its cover would get softer and softer. By the ninth inning it was as soft as a marshmallow. And if you have ever tried to hit a marshmallow, you know they don't travel very far.
The ball would also become filthy — deliberately as pitchers and fielders rubbed all sorts of things into it (talcum powder was a favorite) to make it unhittable. By the late innings, the ball was nearly black, and in a time when games were played in parks with no lights, the ball would be hard to follow as it came out of the pitcher's hand. This helped make home runs as rare as snow in July, so few players tried. Mostly, they just looked to get on base and move the runner ahead by placing ground balls or smacking line drives past the infielders. That's what made the game of the Dead Ball era mostly a scientific one. One team tried to outthink — not overpower — the other side.
A player who went for home runs was looked at the same way as someone who brushed his teeth once a week. The popular Spalding Baseball Guide called home run hitters selfish, a "rutty class of batsmen." It said a home run was "one of the least difficult hits as it needs only muscle and not brains to make it."
Babe Ball
Baseball changed dramatically in the 1920s. They called it "the lively ball era" for good reason. Led by the phenomenal Babe Ruth, batting and slugging averages shot up after 1920.
Ruth popularized the idea that games could be won with one swing of the bat. Suddenly, runs were being scored in bunches. From 1910 to 1919, the American League scored an average of 4,751 runs a season. From 1920 to 1929, it scored an average of 6,038 runs a season. That's a huge jump.
There were several reasons for this. Many people have suggested a livelier ball was put in play after 1920, but the baseball makers said it wasn't true. They said the ball was the same as it had always been. But pitchers said no. They claimed the seams were sewed differently. The new ball had a flatter stitching, they said. That made it much more difficult to grip and to control a curveball. Because of that, they had to throw more fastballs, which made it much easier for hitters to time the pitches.
Maybe they were right, maybe not. But there's no disputing that there were more balls put into play. That happened because in 1920 a pitcher named Carl Mays killed Ray Chapman with a pitched ball. Chapman may not have seen the ball because it was so discolored. After that, the owners ruled that once a ball became discolored it was to be replaced. When the ball became more visible, it also became more hittable.
In 1920, most pitchers lost one of their biggest weapons — the spitball, which dipped sharply when it reached the plate. The pitch was outlawed except for those pitchers who were known to use it most of the time. They were allowed to continue to throw it until they retired. Here's a good trivia question: who threw the last legal spitball? The answer is Burleigh Grimes in 1934.
Rise, Fall, Rise, Fall
Averages continued to rise through the early 1930s. Then they dipped down in the '40s after the players returned from World War II. Again, there were many reasons for this. In 1950, the strike zone was lowered to below the knees, making it easier for pitchers to throw strikes.
You also had a new kind of pitcher throwing those strikes. There were relief specialists before, but managers began using them differently and more effectively in the late 1940s. Before, a relief pitcher was a washed-up starter who was no longer very capable. In 1950 a reliever named Jim Konstanty, who led the Phillies to the National League crown, even won the MVP award. Joe Black, Joe Page, and Hoyt Wilhelm were all relievers and were stars.
This meant that a starting pitcher wasn't expected to complete every game. Now, he could pitch harder, knowing that when he ran out of gas there was a strong backup in the bullpen whose only job was to complete the game.
To give you an idea of how the game changed, the number of saves recorded by relief pitchers in 1957 was 196. The league's earned run average (ERA) that year was 3.79. In 1927, relief pitchers recorded 115 saves, and the league ERA was 4.13. That year, American League pitchers recorded 585 complete games. In 1957, the number was 354. That means when Babe Ruth hit 60 home runs in 1927, he faced a lot more tired pitchers in the late innings than a hitter would in 1957.
Pitchers also developed new pitches. The most prominent was the slider, which was introduced in the mid1920s but wasn't widely used until after World War II. The slider looks like a fastball but, like the spitball, dips at the plate.
Another change that resulted in lower averages was night baseball. The first night game — here we go with another trivia answer — was played in Cincinnati in 1935. By the late '40s, night baseball was in full swing, and players found that hitting under the lights was harder to do.
Night games also played havoc with their sleep. Before, when games were all played in the afternoon, there was always plenty of time to rest before the next one. Now, a team might have a day game after a night game. Suddenly, you had a lot of tired hitters taking their swings.
From the 1960s to Today
Starting in the early '60s the major leagues began to expand from 16 teams to the present 30. That also cost the players much needed nap time. In the old days, they would go by train to a city, spend three or four days, and then travel to another city. That gave them lots of rest, and the traveling wasn't hard. Now, not only do they play day games after night games, but a night game in Los Angeles might be followed by a day game in New York.
As the league expanded, teams began moving out of their old-fashioned parks into new ones. Many of the new stadiums such as Pittsburgh's Three Rivers or Oakland's Alameda County Stadium were round, which meant they had huge swaths of foul territory. That made for more outs. It was also getting easier to catch the ball because gloves were getting larger and larger. They got so big they prompted Casey Stengel to complain, "They're not gloves; they're appliances."
Then in the '70s came another new pitch, the split-fingered fastball, which was thrown even harder than a slider and had a much bigger drop as it crossed the plate. All of these factors helped squash the high averages.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Who Is Baseball's Greatest Hitter? by Jeff Kisseloff. Copyright © 2000 Jeff Kisseloff. Excerpted by permission of Henry Holt and Company.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
Title Page,Copyright Notice,
Dedication,
Let's Talk Hitting,
Hank Aaron,
Barry Bonds,
Dan Brouthers,
Jesse Burkett,
Roberto Clemente,
Ty Cobb,
Ed Delahanty,
Joe DiMaggio,
Jimmie Foxx,
Lou Gehrig,
Hank Greenberg,
Ken Griffey, Jr.,
Tony Gwynn,
Harry Heilmann,
Rogers Hornsby,
Joe Jackson,
Willie Keeler,
Nap Lajoie,
Ernie Lombardi,
Mickey Mantle,
Willie Mays,
Mark McGwire,
Stan Musial,
Babe Ruth,
Al Simmons,
George Sisler,
Tris Speaker,
Bill Terry,
Frank Thomas,
Sam Thompson,
Honus Wagner,
Ted Williams,
Who's It Gonna Be?,
Further Reading,
Hitting Statistics (Career),
Index,
Copyright,