Rickey Henderson: Leadoff Hitter Extraordinaire and Greatest Base Stealer of All-Time

Rickey Henderson, MLB's career leader in stolen bases and runs scored who is widely considered the greatest leadoff hitter in MLB history, passed away on Friday, just five days before his 66th birthday. Henderson stole 1406 bases, 468 more than former record-holder Lou Brock; to put that gap in perspective, 468 stolen bases is a number that would tie for 48th on the career stolen base list! Henderson holds the single season stolen bases record (130 in 1982), and he is the only player in AL history to post at least 100 stolen bases in a season, a feat that he accomplished three times (1980, 1982, 1983). He led the AL in stolen bases a record 12 times (1980-86, 1988-91, 1998), snaring his last stolen base crown when he was 39 years old.

Henderson's 2295 career runs scored surpassed Ty Cobb's record total by 50, and is 121 better than the number posted by both Babe Ruth and Hank Aaron (unlike MLB, I am not counting the number posted by the most famous PED cheater of all-time, who played a major role in turning MLB's treasured record book into a work of fiction). 

When Henderson retired in 2003, he ranked first in career walks and he ranked in the top 100 in career home runs (297, including a record 81 to lead off a game); if you don't count the numbers of the most famous PED cheater of all-time then Henderson still ranks first in career walks. Henderson ranks fourth in MLB history in games played (3081), trailing only Pete Rose (3562), Carl Yastrzemski (3308), and Hank Aaron (3298).

Henderson is one of just 33 members of baseball's prestigious 3000 hit club, and he also had a significant impact defensively, ranking second in career putouts as a left fielder, a category in which he finished in the AL top five 11 times (including first in 1980-81, 1989-90).

Henderson played in the postseason eight times, and he participated in the World Series three times (1989-90, 1993). He played on two World Series championship teams (Oakland 1989, Toronto 1993), and he won the 1989 ALCS MVP during Oakland's title run. He posted a .284 career postseason batting average, logging five home runs, 20 RBI, and 33 stolen bases (which ranks second all-time to Kenny Lofton's 34, but Henderson played in 60 postseason games while Lofton played in 95 postseason games). Henderson won the 1990 AL regular season MVP, earned 10 All-Star selections, received three Silver Slugger awards, and won one Gold Glove (1981).

Henderson was a first ballot Hall of Famer, receiving 94.8% of possible votes (the 20th highest percentage all-time).

Henderson's combination of speed, power, and a discerning eye at the plate (demonstrated not only by his record setting walk total but also by his seven seasons hitting at least .300) made him a nightmare for opposing teams; he got on base, wreaked havoc on the basepaths, and scored runs. Of all of his records, he was most proud of his record for runs scored, sensibly noting that you have to score runs to win games.

Henderson's critics sometimes griped that he did not play hard and was hurt too often, but the great Ralph Wiley provided the definitive refutation to those grumblings: if Henderson was loafing while he set all of the records mentioned above, then he must have been the greatest baseball player of all-time! Henderson played in at least 134 games in 13 seasons. He missed that total in 1981 because of the strike, and he did not reach that total in each of his last five seasons, when he was 40-44 years old, so the record shows that for well over a decade he was pretty durable, particularly considering how active he was on the basepaths.

Henderson played for nine MLB teams (Oakland A's, New York Yankees, Toronto Blue Jays, San Diego Padres, Anaheim Angels, New York Mets, Seattle Mariners, Boston Red Sox, and L.A. Dodgers), but he will forever be most associated with the Oakland A's, with whom he had four different tours of duty accounting for 14 of his 25 MLB seasons.

Henderson's numbers are incredible, but his impact and legacy go beyond the numbers, as is the case with the select few athletes who are transcendently great.

The May 4, 1987 issue of Sports Illustrated featured a series of cover stories about the incomparable Julius "Dr. J" Erving, and in one of those stories John Papanek penned a line about Erving that has always stuck with me and that I quoted as the epigraph to one of my articles about Erving: "You had to see the man and hear the music." In other words, statistics tell a story, but they don't tell the whole story. The numbers speak to Henderson's greatness, but they don't convey what it felt like to watch him play (or what I presume it must have felt like to play against him). I am old enough to remember Rickey Henderson's entire career, and I will say without question or hesitation that he is one of the most exciting baseball players of my lifetime, on my short list with (in chronological order) Reggie Jackson, Eric Davis (who joined Henderson as the only players in MLB history to post at least 20 home runs and at least 80 stolen bases in the same season), and Bo Jackson. When Rickey Henderson strode to the plate, fans were mesmerized, and when Henderson made it on base fans were even more mesmerized. 

Those of us who saw Henderson and heard the music were blessed. May he rest in peace, and may his family--including his three daughters--be consoled at this difficult time.

Dick Allen and Dave Parker Receive Long-Overdue Hall of Fame Recognition

A toxic combination of PED cheating destroying MLB's once-hallowed record book and "stat gurus" preaching "analytics" above all else (while cheating to win World Series titles because, apparently, the "analytics" did not provide a sufficient advantage) not only took much of the enjoyment out of baseball during the past 30 years or so, but also resulted in many great players not receiving deserved Hall of Fame recognition. In earlier eras, a 30 home run season meant something, and a 300 home run career signified a decade or more of top level power production; it is unfair to compare numbers from different eras when making Hall of Fame selections: if you dominated your era, then you earned Hall of Fame status--period.

I am so happy to learn that Dick Allen and Dave Parker, two of the most outstanding players of their respective eras, will be part of the Baseball Hall of Fame's 2025 class. The 16-member Classic Era Committee (formerly known as the Veterans Committee) righted two wrongs by finally selecting Allen and Parker. Allen received 13 votes, while Parker received 14, with 12 votes being the minimum threshold for selection. The Classic Era Committee consists of six Hall of Fame players (Paul Molitor, Eddie Murray, Tony Pérez, Ozzie Smith, Lee Smith, and Joe Torre), five former MLB executives (Sandy Alderson, Terry McGuirk, Dayton Moore, Arte Moreno and Brian Sabean), and five media members/historians (Bob Elliot, Leslie Heaphy, Steve Hirdt, Dick Kaegel and Larry Lester). The Classic Era Committee is tasked with recognizing players whose prime years happened prior to 1980.

Seven-time All-Star Dick Allen posted a .292 career batting average while blasting 351 homers and slugging 1119 RBI. He won the 1964 NL Rookie of the Year award for the Philadelphia Phillies after logging one of the greatest debut seasons in MLB history, leading the league in runs (125), triples (13), extra base hits (80), and total bases (352) while also ranking third in slugging percentage (.557), third in hits (201), fourth in doubles (38), and fifth in batting average (.318). He ranked seventh in home runs (29), and Allen hit at least 20 home runs in each of his first nine seasons, peaking at 40 in 1966 (ranking second in the NL), and cranking at least 30 in five of those seasons (and six times overall during his career). Allen finished seventh in 1964 NL MVP voting but, inexplicably, did not make the All-Star team.

In 1965, Allen earned the first of three consecutive All-Star selections while posting the second of four consecutive seasons during which he hit at least .300. Allen never topped his rookie season batting average, but he hit .300 or better in six of the 11 seasons during which he played in at least 118 games. Allen led the NL in slugging percentage in 1966 with a career-high .632, and that season he also led the NL in extra base hits (75).

After two productive but non All-Star seasons in 1968-69, the Phillies traded Allen to St. Louis, where he regained All-Star status in 1970 while pounding 34 home runs (tied for seventh in the NL) and notching the second of his three 100 RBI seasons (101).

The Cardinals traded Allen to the L.A. Dodgers prior to the 1971 season. He had a solid one year stint with the Dodgers (.295 batting average/23 home runs/90 RBI) before being traded to the Chicago White Sox. In his first White Sox season, Allen won the 1972 AL regular season MVP in a landslide, setting a franchise single season record (since broken) with 37 home runs while setting career highs in RBI (113) and BB (99); he led the AL in all three categories, and he also led the AL in OBP (career-high .420), extra base hits (70), and slugging percentage (.603). Injuries limited him to 82 games in 1973, but he still made the All-Star team, and he earned a third straight All-Star selection in 1974 while leading the AL in home runs (32) and slugging percentage (.563). After Allen left the team late in the 1974 season, the White Sox sold his contract to the Atlanta Braves, but he retired rather than go to Atlanta. He returned to the Phillies in 1975, and then finished his career in 1977 with the Oakland A's. 

Despite Allen's decade of sustained high level production--numbers that are even more impressive considering that he played during an era dominated by pitching--Allen never came close to getting in the Hall of Fame via the media voting, and he missed out in the Classic Era Committee balloting by just one vote in 2015 and 2022.

Some argue that "analytics" bolstered Allen's Hall of Fame candidacy in the most recent round of voting, but the fact is that even the often derided "counting stats" show Allen's brilliance: from 1964-74, he ranked second in MLB in slugging percentage, fifth in home runs (trailing only Hall of Famers Hank Aaron, Harmon Killebrew, Willie Stargell, and Willie McCovey), seventh in RBI, and seventh in runs scored.

There is no doubt that Allen suffered in Hall of Fame balloting because he clashed with various writers and front office executives during his career. He was outspoken, a quality that was not well-received from athletes during that era--and particularly so regarding Black athletes. It should be noted that the Philadelphia Phillies were the last NL team to have Black players on their roster, finally doing so in 1957--a full 10 years after Jackie Robinson broke MLB's color barrier. The toxic racial climate in Philadelphia specifically and in MLB as a whole is an undercurrent--and sometimes more than just an undercurrent--flowing through Allen's career. It is a shame that he passed away in 2020 without receiving his deserved Hall of Fame induction.

Willie Stargell summarized Allen's career and legacy: "Dick Allen played the game in the most conservative era in baseball history. It was a time of change and protest in the country, and baseball reacted against all that. They saw it as a threat to the game. The sportswriters were reactionary too. They didn't like seeing a man of such extraordinary skills doing it his way. It made them nervous. Dick Allen was ahead of his time. His views and way of doing things would go unnoticed today. If I had been manager of the Phillies back when he was playing, I would have found a way to make Dick Allen comfortable. I would have told him to blow off the writers. It was my observation that when Dick Allen was comfortable, balls left the park."

In a 2014 interview with USA Today, Hall of Fame pitcher Rich "Goose" Gossage gushed about his former teammate Allen: "I've been around the game a long time, and he's the greatest player I've ever seen play in my life. He had the most amazing season (1972) I've ever seen. He's the smartest baseball man I've ever been around in my life. He taught me how to pitch from a hitter's perspective, and taught me how to play the game right. There's no telling the numbers this guy could have put up if all he worried about was stats. The guy belongs in the Hall of Fame."

Allen's career ended when I was just five years old, so I don't remember seeing him play, and thus I don't have any personal recollections to add to this tribute--but anyone who studies baseball history understands Allen's impact and value, and thus knows that it is a travesty that he did not make it to the Hall of Fame until nearly 50 years after he retired.

I have vivid memories of Dave Parker, the 6-5, 230 superstar who could do it all. He was built like a tight end before steroids ran rampant through MLB, he was fast during his early years, and he used his powerful upper body to good effect both at the plate and in the outfield. I remember him starring for the Pittsburgh Pirates in the 1970s before joining the Cincinnati Reds, my favorite baseball team in the 1970s and 1980s when I followed baseball as a kid much more closely than I follow it now. Parker teamed up with Eric Davis in a dynamic outfield for the Reds for teams managed by Pete Rose that finished second in the N.L. West for three straight seasons (1985-87; the Reds also finished second in 1988, by which time Parker played for the Oakland A's). The "Cobra" was a sight to behold, and no one who saw Parker play doubted for a second that he was a Hall of Famer. Parker, like many players of that era, had a cocaine problem in the 1980s, and Hall of Fame voters seem to be more forgiving of some players than others regarding such issues.

Parker once declared, "I was a five tool player." As the saying goes, it's not bragging if you can back it up--and Parker backed it up during his career, particularly during the five season stretch from 1975-79. In Parker's first full MLB season, 1975, he led the NL in slugging percentage (.541), placed second in triples (10), ranked fifth in home runs (25) and RBI (101), and finished third in MVP voting. 

In 1976, Parker ranked third in triples (10), seventh in RBI (90), and eighth in batting average (.313), but he only hit 13 home runs. Parker showed surprising speed considering his size, stealing 19 bases, and he ranked fourth in outfield assists (12).

Parker won the NL batting title in 1977 (.338) and 1978 (.334) despite suffering a fractured jaw and cheekbone during the 1978 season. In 1977, Parker earned the first of five straight All-Star selections, and he captured the first of three straight Gold Glove awards while leading the NL in hits (215), doubles (44), and outfield assists (26). Parker ranked second in the NL in RBI (117), second in triples (12), and third in home runs (30) in 1978. He also stole 20 bases, and he won the NL regular season MVP.

He was an integral player for the Pirates' 1979 "We Are Family" World Series championship team, finishing seventh in the NL in batting average (.310) and eighth in RBI (94). Parker tied his career high with 20 stolen bases, and he ranked third in the NL in stolen base percentage (.833). Parker led the Pirates in RBI, ranked second on the team in batting average, home runs (25), and slugging percentage (.526), and ranked third on the team in stolen bases. Parker ranked fourth in the NL in outfield assists in 1979. Perhaps the most famous demonstration of Parker's bazooka arm happened in the 1979 All-Star Game, when he threw out a runner at third base and threw out another runner at home plate en route to winning the All-Star Game MVP in a 7-6 NL win. In the 1979 playoffs, Parker tied for second on the team in RBI (six) and he ranked third on the team in batting average (.341) as he captured the first of his two World Series titles while helping the Pirates win their first championship since 1971.

Parker made the All-Star team in 1980 and 1981, but he did not play at an MVP level during those seasons. Nevertheless, in 1981, baseball historians Donald Honig and Lawrence Ritter already ranked Parker among the 100 greatest baseball players of all-time. 

After Parker had subpar seasons in 1982 and 1983, he signed a free agent contract with the Cincinnati Reds prior to the 1984 season. Parker revived his career with his hometown team, averaging 27 home runs and 110 RBI during his four seasons with the Reds. In 1985, Parker led the NL in RBI (career-high 125) while ranking fifth in batting average (.312), his first .300 season since 1979. He ranked second in the NL in home runs in both 1985 (career-high 34) and 1986 (31). Parker earned All-Star selections in 1985 and 1986, finishing second in NL MVP voting in 1985 and fifth in 1986.

The Reds traded Parker to the Oakland A's after the 1987 season. Parker helped the A's to reach the World Series in 1988 and 1989, and he hit three home runs in the 1989 postseason as the A's won their first championship since 1974. In 1989, Parker led the team in RBI (97, ninth in the AL), ranked second in home runs (22), and finished 11th in AL regular season MVP voting, establishing himself as a premier designated hitter.

The 38 year old Parker signed with the Milwaukee Brewers as a free agent prior to the 1990 season, and in 1990 he earned his final All-Star selection, ranking seventh in the AL in RBI (92). Milwaukee traded Parker to the California Angels in 1991 but the Angels released him after he hit just .232 in 119 games. He ended his career in 1991 by playing 13 games with the Toronto Blue Jays.

Parker finished his career with 2712 hits, 339 home runs, a .290 batting average, 1493 RBI, 154 stolen bases, and 152 assists (including 136 as a right fielder, which still ranks 25th all-time). In addition to winning the 1978 NL regular season MVP, Parker finished in the top five in MVP voting four other times (1975, 1977, 1985-86), earned three Silver Slugger awards (NL outfielder in 1985-86, AL designated hitter in 1990), and was twice honored with the Edgar Martinez award as the best designated hitter (1989-90).

Remembering Fernando Valenzuela and the Summer of 1981 When "Fernandomania" Swept the Baseball World

Fernando Valenzuela, who was just 63 years old when he passed away yesterday, is one of the most memorable athletes from my childhood. He had a distinctive pitching motion in which, as Ed Guzman put it in his L.A. Times obituary for Valenzuela, he "would look skyward almost as if he sought guidance from a higher power."

In the pre-internet, pre-social media era, Valenzuela became about as big of a phenomenon as any athlete in the world, appearing on the covers not only of sports magazines but also of general interest magazines. "Fernandomania" was the buzzword describing Valenzuela's emergence as not just a sports star but a cultural touchstone. In 1981, Valenzuela became the first--and still the only--player to win the National League Rookie of the Year award and the National League Cy Young award in the same season. That was a magical summer during which he was an immediate sensation, giving up just four runs in his first eight starts with seven complete games, five shutouts, 68 strikeouts and a 0.50 ERA in 72 innings (Valenzuela pitched briefly during the 1980 season, but according to MLB rules he was classified as a rookie in 1981). Valenzuela finished that strike-shortened campaign with a 13-7 record while leading MLB in strikeouts (180) and shutouts (eight) and pacing the NL in games started (25), complete games (11), and innings pitched (192.1). He earned an All-Star selection and a Silver Slugger award.

In the 1981 playoffs, Valenzuela went 3-0, including a complete game victory in game three of the 1981 World Series after his L.A. Dodgers lost the first two games to the New York Yankees. The Dodgers won the next three games to capture their first World Series title since 1965.

Valenzuela's former teammate Dusty Baker told MLB.com in 2021, "He could do everything on a baseball field but run. He could hit, he could bunt, field his position. He knew how to play the game. He was a breath of fresh air as a youngster with a man's knowledge on how to play the game."

I grew up as a Cincinnati Reds fan, so I did not root for Fernando Valenzuela--who spent most of his career with the Dodgers, the Reds' chief division rival during my childhood--but I was captivated by him and I closely followed his career. The Reds won the National League West title in 1972-73, 1975-76, and 1979, while the Dodgers won the National League West title in 1974, 1977-78, and 1981--so in the first 11 years of my childhood, only two other teams won the NL West (San Francisco Giants in 1971, Houston Astros in 1980). The Reds reached the World Series four times (1970, 1972, 1975-76) during that time span, and won the World Series twice (1975-76), while the Dodgers reached the World Series four times (1974, 1977-78, 1981) and won the 1981 World Series.

After that special 1981 season, Valenzuela never quite reached that same status again, but he made the NL All-Star team each of the next five seasons while finishing second in Cy Young voting in 1986, third in 1982, and fifth in 1985. He earned another Silver Slugger award in 1983, and he led the NL with 21 wins in 1986 while also pacing MLB with 20 complete games that season. Valenzuela won a Gold Glove in 1986. Although his physique was not svelte, he was durable, amassing a streak of 255 consecutive starts before being sidelined in 1988 due to a shoulder injury. That injury forced him to miss the 1988 playoffs when the Dodgers captured another World Series title.

The Dodgers released Valenzuela after he went 13-13 in 1990, and he posted a 32-37 record with five other MLB teams before retiring after the 1997 season. For his career, Valenzuela finished with a record of 173-153, a 3.54 ERA, 2,930 innings pitched, and 2,074 strikeouts. He threw 113 complete games, including 31 shutouts.

Valenzuela was a fan favorite throughout the baseball world, but particularly so for Mexican fans and Mexican-American fans who idolized him in way similar to the way that Jewish fans admired Hank Greenberg and Sandy Koufax.

This has been a sad few months for baseball fans with the deaths of Fernando Valenzuela, Pete Rose, and Willie Mays, three distinctive stars who helped their teams win while playing with great flair.

Boston Takes Game One of the World Series With 8-4 Victory Over L.A.

I have never romanticized baseball, or loved the sport the way that so many passionate fans do--but before the 1994-95 strike and before the sport became overrun by performance-enhancing drugs (PEDs) to the extent that its hallowed record book was stripped of any meaning, I followed the sport closely and I particularly enjoyed the playoffs and the World Series. I remember as a child being awed by Reggie Jackson's heroics and being entertained by the "We Are Family" Pittsburgh Pirates (even though the Pirates eliminated my Cincinnati Reds en route to the World Series title).

I do not watch much baseball anymore--though I enjoy going to Dayton Dragons games with my four year old daughter Rachel, who loves the entire spectacle and yearns to join the players on the field--but tonight's World Series game one was fun to watch. The Boston Red Sox beat the L.A. Dodgers, 8-4. I don't have a dog in this hunt, so I just savored the back and forth nature of the contest and the various strategic moves made by both sides. I love seeing the best of the best compete against each other and there is no doubt that both of these teams are great.

Boston jumped out to a 2-0 first inning lead and never trailed, but L.A. tied the score at 2 in the third inning. Boston scored one run in the bottom of the third and then L.A. answered with a run in the fifth inning to once again tie the score. Boston added two runs in the bottom of the fifth inning to take a 5-3 lead and L.A. pulled to within one run in the seventh inning. It looked like we were heading for a nail-biting finish but then pinch hitter Eduardo Nunez uncorked a three run home run to break the game open, 8-4. The Dodgers' bats fell silent the rest of the way. Matt Barnes, who pitched one scoreless inning, was credited with the win, while Dodgers' starter Clayton Kershaw--who gave up five runs in four innings--suffered the loss.

After nearly a century of frustrating futility, the Red Sox appear to be on the cusp of capturing their fourth World Series title since 2004.

Joe Torre Has the Last Laugh

It is deliciously ironic that the cover story in the sports section of the print edition of Tuesday's USA TODAY is about Joe Torre. The ex-Yankees manager led the L.A. Dodgers to the playoffs while his former club missed qualifying for the postseason this year after earning 12 straight playoff berths--and four World Series titles--with Torre at the helm. The reason that this story is so ironic is that Al Neuharth--the USA TODAY founder who periodically writes Op-Ed pieces for the paper--has consistently been one of Torre's most outspoken critics. I've never figured out why Neuharth feels such animosity toward Torre, who has won the seventh most games of any manager in MLB history and is certainly a future Hall of Famer--but Neuharth never misses an opportunity to take not so subtle digs at Torre and to blame Torre for supposedly not getting the most out of the Yankees. Neuharth was absolutely convinced that once the Yankees got rid of Torre they would become World Series champions again. Not surprisingly, Neuharth has been silent about that subject recently. I wonder if in Neuharth's annual World Series prediction column he will have the guts and character to admit that he was wrong or if he will make some lame excuses for the Yankees and find some way to take a shot at Torre's Dodgers.

The reality is that Torre did a brilliant job of not only dealing with overbearing Yankees' owner George Steinbrenner but also with handling the day to day challenges of managing a talented ball club operating under intense media scrutiny and tremendous pressure to win the World Series every year. It was classless for the Yankees to not mention Torre at all in conjunction with the final season of Yankee Stadium and it was equally classless for Steinbrenner's son Hank to suggest that Torre's accomplishment this season is somehow diminished based on the relative strength of the Yankees' AL East opponents compared to the Dodgers' NL West opponents. Both teams faced various challenges this year and the bottom line is that Torre successfully navigated the Dodgers through their rough spots while Joe Girardi was not able to do likewise for the Yankees. It can hardly be considered a coincidence that after Torre switched teams New York missed the playoffs for the first time in more than a decade while the Dodgers made the playoffs for just the third time in 13 seasons.

The Yankees impugned Torre's character by asking him to take a huge pay cut, with the stipulation that he could make up the difference financially if the Yankees made it to the World Series; the not so subtle intimation was that Torre needed extra motivation to get the most out of the team and Torre not surprisingly considered that insult to be the last straw after he tolerated years of similar nonsense from George Steinbrenner.

The ending of the whole Steinbrenner/Torre saga in New York reminds me of when Henry Ford II fired Lee Iacocca. As Iacocca recalled in his autobiography, he gave Ford a piece of his mind after Ford dropped the hammer: "Your timing stinks. We've just made a billion eight for the second year in a row. That's three and a half billion in the past two years. But mark my words, Henry. You may never see a billion eight again. And do you know why? Because you don't know how the f--- we made it in the first place!" Iacocca was an innovator who created the popular Ford Mustang and who helped to build Ford Motor Company into a powerful competitor to industry leader General Motors, while Ford II was, in Iacocca's words, "an old pro at spending money but he never understood how it all came in. He just sat in his ivory tower and said, 'My God, we're making money!' He was there every day to throw his weight around, but he never knew what made the place tick." That sounds like a pretty good description of Steinbrenner, who certainly deserves credit for being willing to spend the money to make the Yankees into contenders but who just as certainly does not know nearly as much about baseball strategy as he thinks that he does. Billy Martin, the manager who Steinbrenner notoriously hired and fired several times, once reportedly said that Steinbrenner was born on third base and thought that he had hit a triple. Girardi is a very solid manager and Steinbrenner will spare no expense to bring the Yankees back to the top but how likely is it that Girardi--or any other manager--will put together a dozen year run like the one that Torre just had in New York? Steinbrenner made a mistake forcing Torre out, Neuharth was dead wrong to continuously call for Torre's ouster and it would be nice if both men would be big enough to admit that they were wrong--but being rich and powerful means never having to say that you are sorry.