Corrections and Additions to “The Numbers Game,” by Alan Schwarz

1) Mr. Schwarz uses as an example of my early work for the Rangers the study I did that indicated knuckleballers like Charlie Hough were better suited to a starting role than relief work and then has the Rangers moving him into the rotation where he became a very successful starting pitcher. I was uncomfortable with that portrayal because it gave the impression that my report was somehow central in that move and did not give sufficient credit to the GM Eddie Robinson and the manager Don Zimmer. I suggested the following text which was not used.

When Eddie Robinson and Don Zimmer showed interest in making career reliever Charlie Hough a starting pitcher, Wright strongly endorsed the move with a study that concluded that knuckleballers, especially those with high walk rates, were better suited to a starting role where the extended innings and consistent rest pattern tended to improve their control of the knuckleball. Hough went into the rotation where he stayed for the next seven seasons, averaging 16 wins a year with a walk rate 25% lower than his prior career.

We were allied on that change in Hough’s role. If it were just what I wanted to do, it would never have happened. I think all the accounts of the evolution of this type of work in baseball could use more emphasis on the cooperation and integration of viewpoints. My value in that move was being one of those who supported it and being able to articulate sound logic and research of prior knuckleballers to give us confidence that it was the right decision. And I think that helped get us through some initial rough patches. When Charlie became a regular starter in 1982 he had a miserable April and had not made it past the fourth inning in his last three starts. Overall, his ERA in his five starts was 5.79 ERA. But we stayed with him and that radically changed his career for the better. I surely contributed to that, but just as surely I did not make it happen by myself.

2) I wanted Mr. Schwarz to include another example how when things happened it was often a case of working together. When he mentions how Scouting Director Sandy Johnson liked my work, I wanted Mr. Schwarz to use this particular case which was literally the first player Sandy and I ever discussed:

Johnson’s respect for Wright began with a “sleeper” pitcher, a small 29-year-old right-hander who had never spent a full year in the majors, but Wright felt his 1984 season suggested that he had developed a much needed “out pitch” and that he was in the process of developing better command of the pitch. Wright felt this would make the difference between his being a borderline big leaguer and being able to contribute in the majors on a regular basis. And best of all he could be acquired for next to nothing. As it turned out the pitcher had been dealt to San Diego in mid-season, and Sandy Johnson had just joined the Rangers after being the Scouting Director for San Diego.

General Manager Tom Grieve took Wright in to see Johnson [literally this was the first time I met Sandy], and asked what he thought of the recommendation. Sandy said, “He may be on to something,” and then explained that this pitcher had greatly improved his curveball, and when he threw it for strikes, it was a good big league pitch. The pitcher was Greg A. Harris. San Diego thought so little of him that they took him off their 40-man roster and the Rangers were able to simply purchase his contract at an incredible bargain price in the neighborhood of $25,000. Harris immediately became the Rangers’ best reliever for the next two seasons, throwing a combined 224.3 innings with a sterling 2.65 ERA and continued to pitch in the big leagues through age 39.

3) Mr. Schwarz does mention one of my early “sleeper” players who went on to become a really big name, Orel Hershiser, but notes how the Rangers didn’t get him, which leaves the reader wondering if he were really an available sleeper. I would have preferred to see that example fleshed out to establish that how firmly the Rangers and Dodgers had agreed to a deal with Hershiser in it as essentially a throw-in, contingent on a contract extension being worked for a key player in the deal. I gave Mr. Schwarz more detail on the particulars, which he did not use. He could have gone with:

The Rangers just missed nabbing one of Wright’s sleepers in what would have been the greatest steal in Rangers’ history. Prior to 1982 Wright had recommended to GM Eddie Robinson an unheralded AA pitcher in the Dodger farm system named Orel Hershiser. The next year the Rangers were working on a deal with the Dodgers who badly wanted catcher Jim Sundberg and were offering pitchers Burt Hooton, Dave Stewart, and possibly a couple minor prospects. Wright’s sleeper had made some progress in his 1982 season, and some of the scouts had also developed an interest in him. Wright again endorsed the pitcher and Hershiser ended up being part of the deal.

The trade was finalized with all the names being announced to the media, but it was contingent upon the Dodgers being able to negotiate a contract extension with Sundberg. The deal was killed when Sundberg’s agent rejected the Dodgers’ final offer. When the media discussed the merits of the trade, the focus was all on Sundberg for Hooton and Stewart with little attention paid to 24-year-old Hershiser, a minor prospect and the only player in the deal with no experience in the majors. But the player who would have made the deal such an amazing steal was Hershiser. In the next 6 seasons when the Rangers could have had contractual control over Hershiser, he was one of the game’s most durable pitchers while posting the second best ERA in all of baseball (2.69).

As something that would have radically altered the future of several pennant races, this near trade is surprisingly forgotten today. If you still find it hard believe, go into The Sporting News archive and look at page 47 of the Dec-12-1982 issue. There you will see an article on the contingent trade and the names of the players.

I suspect it is hard in retrospect to imagine Hershiser was considered so lightly at that time. At the time of the trade he was perceived like this: Orel was a 17th round draft pick who had spent four years in the minors. In his three years above A-ball he was a .500 pitcher (21-21) with an ERA near 4.00. He had never thrown more than 124 innings in a season, and a lot of folks saw his future as no more than a middle reliever. He wasn’t a complete non-prospect, but for most, he was an expendable Class C or D prospect, nearly a “nobody” at that point. Shoot, next to Orel, himself, I might have been the only one who really cared that much that he was in the deal.

Again, I want to emphasize that this was done in a collaborative fashion. It would be wrong to say I got Hershiser put in that deal. If I truly had that kind of influence then we would have gone after him a year earlier when I first expressed interest in him. I was a part of that decision, but it never would have happened without some dove-tailing with the visual scouts in evaluating his tools.

This next part is in a section that was not related to our interview, so I never got to review it or comment on it, but on page 242 Mr. Schwarz is writing about Bill James’ involvement with the teams before Boston hired him, and he says:

As for working for a team directly, [James] did a little part-time consulting for his beloved Kansas City Royals, but it appeared as if the door he had opened for the Craig Wrights and Eddie Epsteins was closed to him.

This perpetuates a myth that one would hope The Numbers Game as a historical account would have set right.

I've no problem with opinions that Bill and I have a similar approach to the game. I share that opinion and said in The Diamond Appraised that I felt his work was far closer to my science and synthesis approach than the work of others who focused more on statistical analysis. I made that same point in my foreword to his 1985 Abstract. And I've no problem with people who recognize that Bill and I eventually became friends who, while following separate careers, influenced each other. However, it does bother me when folks screw up the time line and have me following in Bill’s footsteps, giving him credit for making my career possible; that they claim - as Mr. Schwarz does here - that Bill somehow opened the door for me.

This incidentally is not a view shared by Bill James who knows it is ass-backwards. In an email in 2004 he mentioned his appreciation of my pioneering efforts, “… you had your job with the Rangers long ago, before anybody had broken any barriers for you. You actually helped break barriers for me …”

The first time I ever heard of Bill was when I read his 1980 Abstract. By then I had already been developing and using my scientific approach to the game for over a dozen years, and had already been pitching the idea to the ML clubs. I had already had my first face-to-face meeting with an owner and a GM, and was currently in my back-and-forth correspondence with Eddie Robinson that eventually led to my being hired by the Rangers after the 1981 strike ended.

I had already completed my trial period with the Rangers and established my career in baseball when James had his first Baseball Abstract that wasn’t self-published. Shortly thereafter we had our first communication and began our friendship.

Bill had no more opportunity than his next door neighbor to be my mentor or inspiration. He had no role in the approach I had settled on for understanding the game. He had no role in my decision to try to pioneer a new type of career based on bringing a scientific perspective to front office decisions. I know folks love a good story and simplification of history, but anyone who can read a calendar can see Bill had no role in opening the door that I went through - none, zip, nada.

I have great respect and fondness for Bill. I do believe his fabulous job in popularizing sabermetrics made my career easier in its second half. But he did not get me started; he did not clear the way for me, and to be honest, the early years of our association were hardly a career asset. As Mr. Schwarz notes in his book, he was rubbing a lot of professional baseball people the wrong way. I took heat for my support of what he was doing. There were people in baseball that I needed to work with who looked at me with added suspicion because I made no secret of my appreciation for Bill and his work. I never regretted it or had doubts about it. It was the right choice simply because it was right, and just. But the actual benefits of that as far as my career went, that did not come until several years down the road.