2026 Contemporary Baseball Era Committee Candidate: Carlos Delgado

The following article is part of my ongoing look at the candidates on the 2026 Contemporary Baseball Era Committee ballot. Originally written for the 2015 election at SI.com, it has been expanded and updated. For a detailed introduction to this year’s ballot, use the tool above. An introduction to JAWS can be found here.
Though blessed with as much talent to crush a baseball as nearly anyone in his era, Carlos Delgado had a hard time getting the attention that his performance might have merited. Almost certainly, that owed something to the record numbers of balls flying out of the park during his heyday, with a proliferation of 30- or 40-homer seasons. That he spent the bulk of his prime in Toronto, arriving just after the Blue Jays’ back-to-back world championships but unable to aid in replicating that accomplishment, didn’t help either; not until late in his career would he reach the postseason.
Beyond that, Delgado didn’t fit the mold of what the public has come to expect from professional athletes. The controversies in which he was engulfed weren’t the garden-variety ones of so many other jocks — money, respect, performance-enhancing drugs, off-field lifestyle. No, they were bigger. In an age when most athletes shirk political stances because they can narrow their public appeal and impact their personal brands, Delgado was unafraid to protest against what he felt was wrong, even if his stance was unpopular. He spoke out against the United States Navy using part of his native Puerto Rico for bombing practice, and publicly opposed the war in Iraq. He took a stand by taking a seat (to borrow a headline from The New York Times), refusing to go through the motions during the post-9/11 ritual of “God Bless America” — an action that prefigured San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick’s kneeling during the national anthem to protest police brutality against people of color in 2016. Delgado was the conscientious slugger.
Deglado’s outspokenness and activism stemmed from his admiration for Hall of Famer and Puerto Rican hero Roberto Clemente. He died six months after Delgado was born, but his legacy of humanitarianism and fighting for social justice left a deep impression on Delgado. He wore Clemente’s no. 21 briefly with the Blue Jays and later with the Mets, and thanks to his charitable endeavors — which included raising money for homeless, underprivileged and handicapped Puerto Rican children, and sponsoring college scholarships through his Extra Bases Foundation, Delgado won the 2006 Roberto Clemente Award.
Conscience and good numbers won’t get you much closer to Cooperstown than good numbers alone will, however. Delgado once appeared to be within reach of 500 home runs — a milestone that might have guaranteed him entry to the Hall given his PED-free reputation — but a 2009 hip injury that led to three surgeries in 18 months proved too much to overcome. While he might have stuck around on a less crowded BBWAA ballot, he landed on one of the most densely packed in the institution’s history, didn’t receive enough support to remain eligible, and had to wait out the remainder of his 10-year term before he could appear on an Era Committee ballot. Even now, his presence rates as a surprise given how rarely such candidates get a second shot. I don’t expect Delgado to get strong support, but it’s a hopeful sign for the process, and in the meantime, the slugger’s exemplary career is worth another look.
| Player | Career WAR | Peak WAR | JAWS |
|---|---|---|---|
| Carlos Delgado | 44.4 | 34.5 | 39.4 |
| Avg. HOF 1B | 65.0 | 42.0 | 53.5 |
| H | HR | AVG/OBP/SLG | OPS+ |
| 2,038 | 473 | .280/.383/.546 | 138 |
Carlos Juan Delgado was born on June 25, 1972 in the coastal city of Aguadilla, Puerto Rico. His mother, Carmen Digna Hérnandez, was a medical laboratory assistant, while his father, also named Carlos (“Don Cao”), was a drug and alcohol counselor, “a social worker by heart” who passed along his sense of compassion to his son. Large for his age, young Carlos played catcher in Little League, though other sports, including swimming, track and particularly volleyball, competed for his attention. As a junior at José de Diego High School in Aguadilla, he attracted the attention of scouts from the Blue Jays, Expos, Mets, Rangers, and Reds thanks to his strong arm, left-handed power, high baseball IQ, and advanced approach at the plate. He signed with the Blue Jays as a non-drafted free agent at age 16 in October 1988, two years before Puerto Rico became subject to the amateur draft. He received a bonus of $90,000 but was allowed to finish his studies and graduate on schedule.
Delgado was just 17 when he began his professional career with the Blue Jays’ St. Catharines (Ontario) affiliate in the New York-Penn League. He went homerless while hitting .180/.345/.236 in 31 games, but improved to .281/.382/.417 in 1990 while repeating the level as an 18-year-old, after which a member of the Blue Jays’ player development program told Baseball America, “He’s the No. 1 prospect in our whole organization.”
Delgado showed prodigious power as he climbed through the Jays organization, pounding 18 home runs for the team’s Myrtle Beach affiliate in his first year of full-season ball in 1991, then 30 homers (with a .324/.402/.579 line) at High-A Dunedin in 1992, and another 25 at Double-A Knoxville in 1993; he entered each of the latter two seasons ranked among the game’s top five prospects by Baseball America. He made his major league debut on October 1, 1993, the Jays’ 160th game of the season, taking over from Randy Knorr behind the plate in the sixth inning and drawing a walk off Baltimore’s Todd Frohwirth in his only plate appearance. He was left off the postseason roster, however, and while the Blue Jays beat the Phillies in the World Series to win their second straight title, they didn’t return to the postseason again during Delgado’s 12-season tenure in Toronto.
Satisfied with their tandem of Pat Borders and Knorr behind the plate, the Jays decided to give Delgado a shot in left field midway through spring training in 1994. Delgado — who had only played a few innings in the outfield in winter ball — did so passably enough to get the Opening Day nod against the White Sox. He responded by collecting his first two major league hits, a single off Jack McDowell and a 428-foot moonshot off Dennis Cook that was celebrated in the pages of Sports Illustrated; it was followed by a 445-foot homer off Alex Fernandez the next day, and then another one and another one. But after launching eight home runs in the season’s first 13 games, he fell into an extended slump, homering just once more as his batting line sank to .215/.352/.438 before he was demoted in early June.
Delgado spent the rest of the strike-shortened season and most of the next one at Triple-A Syracuse, hitting a combined .319/.404/.577 with 41 home runs in 176 games, and with the development of his bat far outstripping that of his glove, he hung up the tools of ignorance for good at the end of 1994. However, that offensive dominance had only intermittently translated to the majors. In two stints with the Blue Jays in 1995, he hit just .165/.212/.297, and although most of his defensive innings with Toronto came in left field, it was clear the Jays didn’t see him as a long-term fit on the grass; while in the minors that year, he learned to play first base. Given the extent of the Blue Jays’ struggles — particularly in the latter season, when they went just 56-88 while getting comparatively mediocre production from first baseman John Olerud (112 OPS+) and 38-year-old designated hitter Paul Molitor (101 OPS+), it’s fair to wonder why the team didn’t try to give Delgado a longer look, particularly after the promising start to his 1994 season.
Still shy of his 24th birthday, Delgado put a claim on a full-time role with the Jays in spring training in 1996, serving as the primary DH and playing a bit of first base. He broke out offensively, homering 25 times while batting .270/.353/.490 for a 112 OPS+, and after Olerud was traded to the Mets in December, Delgado took over the starting first base job in 1997. He clouted 30 homers while hitting .262/.350/.528 with a 127 OPS+, but between shaky defense, the positional penalty from DH duty, and rising offensive levels, those seasons were worth just 3.7 WAR combined.
Thanks to improved performances against left-handed pitching and an increased amount of respect from opposing hurlers, Delgado’s offensive numbers continued to climb. From 1998-2003 he hit a combined .295/.413/.585 for a 155 OPS+ and an average of 40 home runs, 101 walks (17 intentional), and 5.3 WAR per year. He topped the 40-homer plateau three times in that span, with a high of 44 in 1999; he ranked in the AL top 10 in all six seasons and in the top five three times, but never higher than second. He also placed second in the league in slugging percentage twice, first in 2000, the year he put up career-best slash stats (.344/.470/.664) en route to a 181 OPS+ (which ranked third), and then a second time in ’03, when he hit .302/.426 /.593 and led the league with a 161 OPS+ and 145 RBI. During that stretch, he had five games of at least three home runs, matching Sammy Sosa for the major league lead; on September 25, 2003, against the Devil Rays, he became the 13th player ever to homer four times in one game. Even as four-homer games go, that one was something special. His second blast, off Jorge Sosa, was the 300th of his career, and his third and fourth homers led off innings with the Blue Jays down a run; they eventually won 10-8.
Despite that consistent production, the 2000 and ’03 seasons marked the only times that Delgado placed in the league’s top 10 in WAR (sixth in both seasons with 7.3 and 5.9, respectively), earned All-Star honors, or made a dent in the MVP voting; he finished a solid fourth in 2000 and a very close second behind Alex Rodriguez in ’03. Beyond the fact that the Blue Jays finished in third place in the AL East in all six of those seasons from 1998-2003, and that their attendance was middle-of-the-pack, it’s not entirely clear why he flew so far under the radar. For that six-year span, he ranked fourth among first basemen in WAR (31.6), behind Jason Giambi (37.3) and Hall of Famers Todd Helton (35.1) and Jeff Bagwell (32.7). His 155 OPS+ was fourth among that same group, behind Mark McGwire (180), Giambi (165), and Hall of Famer Jim Thome (157), while his 237 homers were third, trailing only Rafael Palmeiro (257) and Thome (248). In the AL, Thome started the 1998 and ’99 All-Star Games, and Giambi did so in 2000 and ’02, with Olerud (2001) and Delgado (2003) sneaking in once apiece. While it’s true that some of the aforementioned first basemen with whom he vied for attention would later be connected to PEDs, it’s also true that stretch was a high-scoring one, with over 5.0 runs scored per team per game and more hitters reaching the 30- and 40-homer plateaus than ever before.
The Blue Jays rewarded Delgado for his production amid an uncertain ownership situation. In December 1999, they signed him to a three-year, $36 million contract, which made him the 10th-highest paid player in the majors in terms of annual salary and included the right to demand a trade after the 2000 World Series — or to become a free agent if that request went unfulfilled. With Delgado completing his career-best season one month after Rogers Communications purchased the Blue Jays in September 2000, the new owners got out in front of his option by reworking his contract into a four-year, $68 million deal that for the moment made his $17 million annual salary the majors’ highest; two months later, Rodriguez’s 10-year, $252 million deal with the Rangers blew it out of the water.
Off the field, Delgado found other ways to stand out, taking it upon himself to carry on the legacy of Clemente by using his platform to speak out for social justice. In April 2001, he joined 10 other Puerto Rican celebrities — singers Jose Feliciano and Ricky Martin, actor Benicio del Toro, boxer Felix Trinidad, and fellow slugger Juan Gonzalez among them — in taking out full-page ads in The New York Times and The Washington Post calling for the United States to cease using Vieques, an island off the coast of Puerto Rico with a population of around 9,400, as a Navy bomb-testing site, which it had done since 1938. The toxic air particles produced by the testing were believed to cause of higher rates of cancer and other serious illnesses in the island population. After a protracted battle that drew the support of more politicians and celebrities, the Navy withdrew from Vieques in May 2003.
Delgado was also the rare athlete to take a stand against the war in Iraq. In an act of simple protest, at the start of the 2004 season, he regularly chose to remain in the dugout during the playing of “God Bless America,” a staple in ballparks since the September 11, 2001 bombings. “I never stay outside for ‘God Bless America,’” he told the Toronto Star in July 2004. “I actually don’t think people have noticed it. I don’t [stand] because I don’t believe it’s right, I don’t believe in the war.” He elaborated on that topic:
“It’s a very terrible thing that happened on Sept. 11,” Delgado said. “It’s [also] a terrible thing that happened in Afghanistan and Iraq. I just feel so sad for the families that lost relatives and loved ones in the war.
“But I think it’s the stupidest war ever,” he said. “Who are you fighting against? You’re just getting ambushed now… You’ve been looking for weapons of mass destruction. Where are they at? You’ve been looking for over a year. Can’t find them. I don’t support that. I don’t support what they do. I think it’s just stupid.”
Delgado’s protest had the backing of the Blue Jays — even teammates who disagreed with his views — but it exposed him to hecklers; I witnessed an incident at Yankee Stadium myself, but was heartened to find fans around me far angrier at the perpetrators than at the player.
On the field, Delgado missed five weeks of the 2004 season due to an oblique strain, and while he finished with 32 home runs, his .269/.372/.535 (129 OPS+) batting line was his worst since 1997. A free agent that winter, he surprised the baseball world by signing a four-year, $52 million deal with the Marlins, one so heavily backloaded that it included just $4 million in the first year. He put up strong offensive numbers (.301/.399/.582, 160 OPS+, 33 homers), but abysmal fielding (-20 Defensive Runs Saved) limited him to 2.8 WAR. Two years removed from their second championship, the Marlins won 83 games, but when they failed to secure public financing for a new ballpark and finished dead last in the league in attendance, owner Jeffrey Loria ordered the roster torn apart. On the same day that the Marlins traded Josh Beckett, Mike Lowell, and Guillermo Mota to the Red Sox for Hanley Ramirez, Aníbal Sánchez, and two other players, they dealt Delgado to the Mets for Mike Jacobs, Yusmeiro Petit, and a third player.
Upon acquiring Delgado, the Mets made clear that they expected him to fall in line when it came to “God Bless America,” with chief operating officer Jeff Wilpon telling reporters, “[Majority owner] Fred [Wipon] has asked and I’ve asked him to respect what the country wants to do.” While manager Willie Randolph voiced support for Delgado’s right to voice his opinion, general manager Omar Minaya steered clear of doing so. Wrote Newsday’s Wallace Matthews:
“Even if you disagree with his politics, Delgado’s willingness to break out of the mold corporate America loves to jam us in set him apart from the thousands of interchangeable young men who thrive athletically and financially in our sports-crazed culture… But no. One of the few pro athletes who had the guts to say no is now a yes man. And the silencing of his voice, whether you agree with it or not, is not a victory for democracy but a defeat.”
“I don’t want my personal opinions to distract the team,” Delgado said during spring training in 2006, “but, just because I abide by the rules, does not mean my opinion has changed.”
Beyond the politics, Delgado was a hit. Sandwiched between fellow Puerto Rican Carlos Beltrán and David Wright in the middle of the lineup, he clubbed 38 homers, his highest total since 2003, and hit .265/.361/.548 for a 131 OPS+. On August 22, he went yard twice off the Cardinals’ Jeff Weaver; the second shot, a grand slam, was Delgado’s 400th career home run.
The Mets won 97 games, giving the 34-year-old slugger his first taste of the postseason, and he rose to the occasion, batting a combined .351/.442/.757 with four home runs and 11 RBI in 43 plate appearances. Delgado homered and drove in the go-ahead run in the Division Series opener against the Dodgers, setting off a three-game sweep, and while his two long balls in Game 2 of the NLCS against the Cardinals went for naught, he drove in five runs with a double and a homer in a Game 4 rout. The Cardinals drew warier of pitching to him, walking him three times in a tight Game 7 that remained deadlocked into the ninth inning. Yadier Molina’s solo homer off Aaron Heilman put the Cardinals ahead, and while the Mets loaded the bases against Adam Wainwright, Beltrán struck out looking to end the game while Delgado waited on deck.
Thus began a three-year string of near-misses for the Mets; they would be eliminated on the final day of the regular season to wind up outside the playoff picture in each of the next two years. Though his overall numbers took a dip, Delgado hit .321/.383/.566 with four homers in September 2007; unfortunately, he also missed 14 games due to a right hip flexor strain, and the Mets’ 6-8 record in his absence contributed to their falling a game short of the NL East title. The hip would continue to cause problems. Delgado missed time in the spring of 2008 and started slowly (.198/.297/.323 in April), but he picked up steam as the year went on and put up another monster September (.340/.400/.649 with eight homers) to finish with 38 home runs. But again, the Mets fell a buck short.
Delgado’s strong finish left him just 31 homers from 500, and it appeared he still had something left in the tank heading into his age-37 season. The Mets picked up his $12 million option for 2009, but things soon unraveled. Though he started well, after playing just 26 games, Delgado needed surgery to repair a torn right hip labrum in late May, and couldn’t make it back before season’s end. After undergoing microfracture surgery in the same hip in December, he attempted a comeback with the Red Sox in late 2010, but played in just five minor league games before pain and problems with his other hip proved too much to surmount. He announced his retirement in April 2011. “There comes a moment when you have to have the dignity and the sense to recognize that something is not functioning,” he said at the time. “You can’t swim against the current.”
…
Though he doesn’t have a whole lot to point to in terms of All-Star appearances (just two), awards, league leads, postseason performances, black ink, and major milestones, Delgado scores 110 (“a good possibility”) on the Bill James Hall of Fame Monitor, which attempts to quantify such accomplishments as those which aren’t reflected by WAR. Notably, that score is nestled between Hall of Famers Willie McCovey (111) and Willie Stargell (107), and 10 points head of McGriff.
Had Delgado reached 500 home runs — a shortfall that owes as much to his being trapped in Triple-A in 1994–95 as to his having played his final major league game before his 37th birthday — he might have had a fighting chance at Cooperstown, if for no other reason than his PED-free reputation. Seven of the 10 players who reached the 500-homer plateau between 1999 and 2009 were linked to PED usage at some point in their careers, including fellow Contemporary Era candidates Barry Bonds and Gary Sheffield, and current BBWAA candidates Rodriguez and Manny Ramirez. Likewise, seven of the players who rank among the top 12 in home runs from 1996–2008 — a span during which Delgado’s total of 457 ranked sixth in the majors — were linked to PEDs. Among players outside the Hall who were never suspended for PED use or alleged to have used by the Mitchell Report or other credible sources, only Albert Pujols and Miguel Cabrera hit more homers than Delgado, and neither has yet to come up for election by the writers.
Beyond the home runs, Delgado’s career .546 slugging percentage and 138 OPS+ are both impressive, but they still rank a modest 18th among players with at least 5,000 plate appearances between 1993 and 2009; a lot of guys from that time were pulverizing the ball. Among players with at least 7,000 plate appearances — the cutoff I generally use for full careers when considering Hall candidates — Delgado’s 138 OPS+ ranks 60th all time, two points below Cabrera, Rodriguez, Sheffield, and Hall of Famers Vladimir Guerrero and Duke Snider, and one point below Giambi, Reggie Jackson, Norm Cash, and Bob Johnson. He’s four points ahead of McGriff, and five ahead of Helton and another Hall of Fame first baseman, Orlando Cepeda.
Including those homers, Delgado had a knack for timing. Three times (2000, ’03, and ’05), he led his league in WPA. Statistically, his big problem is that beyond his bat, he doesn’t score well in terms of advanced metrics. His subpar baserunning (-26 runs) and defense (-65 runs) cut into his value; he finished with just three seasons above 5.0 WAR, and six above 3.0. His 44.4 career WAR is 21.6 wins below the standard of enshrined first basemen and ranks 40th at the position; while that’s better than fellow Contemporary Era candidate Don Mattingly (42.4), Delgado is ahead of just three Hall of Fame first basemen, namely Gil Hodges (43.8), Jim Bottomley (36.0), and George “High Pockets” Kelly (25.4). Likewise, Delgado’s 34.5 peak WAR ranks 40th, 0.1 below Cepeda and ahead of only four enshrined first basemen. At 39.4, he ranks 38th among first basemen in JAWS, well below McGriff (44.3) but ahead of Mattingly (39.1) and three Hall of Fame first basemen: Hodges (38.7), Bottomley (32.9), and Kelly (24.8).
The bottom line is I don’t see any strong statistical justification for voting for Delgado. BBWAA voters didn’t see any either, giving him just 3.8% of the vote, but that comes with a caveat, as he was on a ballot that featured 16 players with a JAWS of at least 50.0 (one shy of the post-1966 record set the previous year) and 14 future Hall of Famers, including the elected Craig Biggio, Randy Johnson, Pedro Martinez, and John Smoltz.
That said, I’m glad Delgado is up for a vote. The history of players who have gone one-and-done on BBWAA ballots and then gotten second chances on Era Committee ballots is a short one. Aside from Ted Simmons, who made three such ballots and was finally elected on the 2020 Modern Baseball ballot, Joe Carter, Will Clark, and Lou Whitaker are the only ones who have gotten placement prior to Delgado, with Carter and Clark getting two chances on a couple of weak Today’s Game ballots. I’m all for giving such candidates another look, and hope this means that Whitaker, Jim Edmonds and Johan Santana (both of whom will be eligible for the first time on the 2029 Contemporary Baseball ballot, if the system remains as is), and others get their day, as well.
While Delgado may not have the numbers to merit a plaque in the Hall of Fame, he has left behind an impressive legacy: that of a top-flight athlete willing to take a stand on things that mattered far from the playing field. We could always use more of those.
Brooklyn-based Jay Jaffe is a senior writer for FanGraphs, the author of The Cooperstown Casebook (Thomas Dunne Books, 2017) and the creator of the JAWS (Jaffe WAR Score) metric for Hall of Fame analysis. He founded the Futility Infielder website (2001), was a columnist for Baseball Prospectus (2005-2012) and a contributing writer for Sports Illustrated (2012-2018). He has been a recurring guest on MLB Network and a member of the BBWAA since 2011, and a Hall of Fame voter since 2021. Follow him on BlueSky @jayjaffe.bsky.social.
Big yes for me, his peak offense was super, and I’m in the camp that thinks that the positional adjustments for first base are overly punitive.
I didn’t remember all the thoughtful stuff he did off the field, too, so appreciate that coverage.
While the positional adjustments might not be fully accurate, that wouldn’t significantly change his overall ranking among first basemen, where as Jay notes he ranks 38th, in the general vicinity of Mark Teixeira, Norm Cash, Adrian Gonzalez, Mark Grace, Don Mattingly, and Anthony Rizzo, to name a few. All pretty good players, and you could construct reasonable enough HoF arguments for most of them, depending on what you think makes a hall of famer and if you’re generally a big-hall guy. Certainly, all would be more worthy of enshrinement than Harold Baines. But none of them are exactly a slam dunk.
Overall I don’t think I’d vote for Delgado if I had a vote, but he was good enough on and off the field that I wouldn’t be upset if he got in, either.
I don’t know about Rizzo and Gonzalez – they’re both like 9 wins behind Delgado, Grace, and Teixeira and almost 20 behind Cash. I’d be a yes on Cash and Delgado and no on the rest. The main thing is that I weight offense higher than defense in comparing between players at the same position. I’m confident defensive WAR is good directionally, but I’m less confident in it’s more granular calculations.
Delgado’s oWAR is directly behind Vlad Sr., Mike Piazza, Ralph Kiner, and directly above Paul Molitor. The gap between Delgado and Grace offensively is the Grand Canyon. The gap between him and Mattingly is nearly as huge (more than 250 more homers). The gap between him and Teixeira is pretty clear, too. Teixeira’s oWAR is directly behind Nelson Cruz and Juan Gonzalez. Delgado had a higher WRC+, more homers, more runs, more rbi.
I’d be good with Cash and Delgado, meh about Tex, and no on the others
Even if you’re not huge on exact values, Delgado/Teixeira is an 8 point wRC+ gap between a great defender and a bad one.
Yeah, it’s fine margins, but that’s enough for me. Tex also struck me as extremely unlikeable (and I’m a Yankees fan) and Delgado the opposite, so maybe that’s coloring it for me. I don’t think it’s going to come up because I don’t think Tex will ever get close to getting in, but if he did, it’d be fine in the way Jim Rice or Harold Baines were fine. I’m much more annoyed about guys who deserve to get being snubbed than marginal guys getting in.
Also a Yanks fan, and I liked Tex a lot until his Congressional campaign, haha.
Anyway, I can understand saying that the vagaries of (especially) pre-Statcast defensive values puts them on the same level, rather than Delgado being 5 JAWS behind…but I can’t put Delgado (who seems like a much better person) in front of Tex.
I can squint and see the HoFer without the injuries, but I’m not sure that’s worth a vote. But Delgado *actually is* who Yankee fans of the 80s think Don Mattingly is, and I wonder what a friendlier press might have brought him, especially post-career…
I think the strongest argument for him rests on two propositions, combined.
(1) peak is most important and he had a 5-6 year run that was awesome, and
(2) He was never connected to PEDs in any way but he played in an era where Barry Bonds, Sammy Sosa, Jason Giambi, and others threw the era-adjusted stats for a loop. And that had that not happened his offensive stats would look way more impressive (this is the argument for Fred McGriff).
I actually agree with both of those propositions but even so it feels like he’s a little borderline. I think it would be fine if he got in, but I’m more of a small-to-medium Hall person so he doesn’t stand out to me as someone who was unjustly excluded.
I agree with 1 and hadn’t considered 2, but it feels correct, though I don’t know that I’d assign it a ton of credit beyond the adjustments that stuff like WAR and WRC+ already make. Like I said above, I weight offense higher, especially at 1B, and his offense was awesome.
And even with peak being the most important thing, he had enough longevity for me. Having 473 homers and 1500 RBI makes it pretty much a lock for me. There’s not a single person above him on the career HR list I wouldn’t vote for,. I think all of them are in except the PED guys, the guys who aren’t eligible yet but will be in (Pujols and Cabrera), and Sheffield who I think got some anti-PED stink.
Sheffield definitely did PED’s, he admitted to doing them, the question is whether you take him at his word or not that he only did them once and didn’t know the creams Barry Bonds was giving him in 2002 were steroids.
Great write up Jay. Delgado was my favourite player growing up as a young Blue Jays fan. I’m surprised I didn’t remember the stand he took against Iraq and Afghanistan Wars, but I’m glad to learn about them now. I wish more players were as principled
Agree all the way down. Superb writeup for a guy who seems to be a superb human being. It boggles my mind that he was only an all-star twice (!!) but that’s a function of how stacked 1B was back in the day (Thomas, Thome, Giambi, McGwire, Palmeiro, Tino, etc etc).
Also mind-boggling that he was a one-and-done on the HOF ballot (along with guys like Johan Santana, Kenny Lofton, and Jim Edmonds). Not saying that any of those are slam dunk, “let them in immediately” guys, but more “let’s at least discuss and celebrate these guys for a few years.” I mean Billy Wagner started at 10.5% and he’s headed to Cooperstown.
I do not think “publicly agreed with Jay Jaffe’s politics” ought to be a major consideration for his Hall of Fame candidacy. It’s fine to mention as part of his story, but really shouldn’t matter one way or the other.
I lean towards a small Hall, so I really don’t see a case here. Even at his peak, he was never the best player at his position, which is the least valuable position on the diamond. The fact that he fell short of 500 home runs, in my opinion, enhances how powerful that club is. We can play the game of “oh, what if Delgado got there” or “oh, what if Dunn got there”, but the fact of the matter is, they didn’t get there, and the only guys who have gotten there are no-doubt Hall-of-Famers. (I’ll give a pass to Fred McGriff because we can say with a pretty high degree of certainty he would’ve gotten there if not for something totally out of his control).
I bet Jay feels the same way, too!
Please, show me where I’ve said that Delgado’s politics should matter in terms of a Hall of Fame vote.
If it’s irrelevant to his Hall of Fame candidacy, why is it extensively discussed in an article about his Hall of Fame candidacy?
Good Lord, did you actually read the piece?? Or are you here just to complain? I made clear at several turns I don’t think Delgado has the numbers or a strong rationale for a vote. I don’t see how anybody who actually reads the piece could draw a different inference than that.
I write about every candidate on every Hall ballot. Not all of them are Hallworthy, but their careers are laudable, and I enjoy sharing my knowledge of and research into those careers to discuss what distinguished them. I’ve always found Delgado to be particularly interesting because he stuck his neck out at a time — and on a subject — where few athletes dared to disagree publicly. Since he went one-and-done on the 2015 ballot that I covered for another site, it was a worthwhile exercise to update what I wrote then and to add new perspective, baseball and otherwise. It didn’t change my view of whether he’s Hallworthy, but I think it gave our readers a chance to read about a particularly thoughtful player whose actions beyond the field they may not have been aware of ~20 years ago.
I read the piece, and I generally enjoyed it. I just found the inclusion odd and distracting.
I think you’re an excellent writer, Jay, and I’m glad you’re part of the FanGraphs staff. I just think that when politics is brought into a career retrospective, it invites us to talk about politics instead of careers – in your very well-written Kershaw retrospective, almost all of the comments are about his views on LGBT people, and that feels like a shame to me. If I choose to revisit the piece in a number of years, that’s going to be a lasting legacy.
However, the blame for the focus on politics falls on me as much as anyone, and for that I apologize. Keep up the good work.
Apology accepted, thank you.
Honestly, I don’t strive to make politics a focus of any of these profiles, but sometimes they make it my business, and I can’t ignore it. For once, this was a positive case, IMO. Delgado wasn’t on the level of Ali or Kaepernick, but he did put his neck on the line in a way that few athletes of his era did — and I got to see a bit of that first-hand. Again, I think that there are readers who were unaware of this side of him, and so long as his case is relevant to my work — which it is for the first time in 11 years — I’m going to share that.
Yep. And I for one fully support making truth and basic human decency & morality more front and center.
As you say, sometimes they make it our business. Because–more often than ever–the topics that have been made political are literally life and death.
Would you have the same reaction if you agreed with the player’s politics?
Are his birthplace and childhood relevant? I notice you’re not complaining about the inclusion of those.
Anytime I hear Carlos Delgado I think of Stuart Scott on Sportscenter highlights- “Delgado del-got-it”
Scott seemed to be one of the good ones.
Amazing to see the rehabilitation that the character clause has gotten.
Delgado’s prime coincided with an MLB-wide offensive explosion and, as the pic at the top reminds us, a horrible era in Blue Jays uniform design. If I’m being honest with myself, the latter fact has colored my memory of his accomplishments more.
ha ha agreed
I went to the Blue Jays’ 2003 team page on Baseball Reference (to check the attendance at that 4 HR game against the Rays because man that stadium looks EMPTY) and was immediately thrown off by the hideous team logo at the top. Ye gads.
Delgado was a wonderful player. I miss him. I can’t say that he should be in the Hall of Fame, but I’d be glad if he was, and I don’t think he’d be lowering the tone of the place.
He’s probably not a HoFer, but he’s one of my favorite players ever. I remember watching that four-homer game on TV. Peak Delgado was a juggernaut.
Thanks Jay, this is a great write up about a great player and a good reminder of how awful the Wilpons were.
Excellent point. Mets fans don’t appreciate how much of an upgrade Steve Cohen is as an owner – even if he’s not exactly a choirboy himself.
You know, I can see a path where Delgado gets the Baines treatment for some of the reasons Jay outlines above (stuck in Triple A in 94/95, etc.) along with no PEDs, good guy reputation, etc. I don’t think it’s likely, but neither was Baines’s election, I guess.
I wouldn’t be the most mad if Delgado got in, but given others on this ballot, I’d potentially be somewhat irritated.
Someone has to have the distinction of “most homers not in the hall and not because he was connected PED.”
As a Fred McGriff fan, I was very happy when he lost that distinction. It is now Delgado, and I’d be just fine with it moving along to Adam Dunn, who I assume will never even be considered and rightly so.
Giancarlo Stanton could possibly make a run at the title, but he would need to settle in the sweet spot because I’m guessing if he gets 500 he will be elected by the writers.
I think you are right about them electing Giancarlo Stanton if he gets to 500, and I don’t know if I would even be annoyed about it because I have always liked him a lot. But it is so hard to make a case for him aside from “he has 500 homers and many of them have still never been found.”
Personally I think it would be funny if someone totally one dimensional like Teoscar Hernandez got to 500 homers. Would the writers wave him in?
(Also I think Nelson Cruz has more homers than Adam Dunn)
Kyle Schwarber has a chance to be that test case. There is probably at least a 10% chance he finishes with at least 500 home runs and half the WAR of David Ortiz.
He is currently around 20 WAR, but 160 home runs shy of 500. From age 33 until the end of their careers, Nelson Cruz, David Ortiz, Jim Thome, and Edgar Martinez all had more than 160 home runs and Edwin Encarnacion had 156. Of course other comps like Ryan Howard, Adam Dunn, and Prince Fielder fell far short.
Nelson Cruz is the youngest of those players and his age 33 season was 12 years before Schwarber’s will be. E5’s was 10 years prior.
That’s a full decade of nobody doing this (most likely, based on when they turned 33, also assuming Judge will break the drought). J.D. Martinez, Paul Goldshmidt, Jose Abreu, Josh Donaldson, Joey Votto. You can nickpick some of these comparisons and yes Covid robbed all of these of 100 potential games, but they were all better hitters than Schwarber and more importantly they weren’t even all that close to 160 homers age 33+
I encourage anyone to play around with the leaderboard and I feel confident you’ll see this, too.
While a lot of those guys may have been better overall hitters, none of them are close to the home run hitter that Schwarber is, which is all we’re talking about here.
Schwarber has averaged 42 HRs/162 games over the course of his career. For come context:
Martinez: 32.6 HR/162
Donaldson: 32.6 HR/162
Abreu: 29.5 HR/162
Goldschmidt: 29 HR/162
Votto: 28 HR/162
Granted, as he ages I’m sure that will go down, but he’s starting from a higher baseline. If he plays 5 more years and averages 32 HRs a year, that’s 160 – it’d be a really interesting case to see if he can get there and what his HoF case would turn into.
Nelson Cruz is a PED guy.
I always found it unfair that Delgado failed to reach the 5% threshold and fell off the ballot after just one year. I don’t think he’s quite Hall-worthy but felt his accomplishments deserved way more discourse than they got. It’s great he’s getting that now.
Clearly I am a Jays fan so I could be biased but personally I am a much bigger believer in peak when it comes to the HOF and I think Delgado at his peak was too good of a hitter to ignore.
From 1997-2008 over a 12 season stretch he ranked
3rd in RBIs
3rd in doubles
5th in HRs
8th in runs scored
9th in walks
3rd in HBP
He is also one of only fourteen players to have eleven 30+ HR seasons and one of only six players to have ten straight 30 HR seasons.
I also like Delgado a lot, but I am not a fan of parsing up peoples careers in very specific slices. When you choose one players peak X years, or years starting at Y date to Z date, they don’t necessarily line up with other great players of the era (ie, another great hitter debuted 3 years earlier, or later, etc.) so it basically makes whomever your looking at seem better. I like Delgado and he deserves more time in the sun, so very happy for the write up. I would say I’m a medium hall person and to me he comes up a little short. A great hitter; but not a good baserunner or defender, so the bar as a hitter is just really high!
To be clear I’m a fan of measuring peaks generally (IE best 7 years, best 5 etc.); I just mean when you cut up certain years and compare only those years to other players active in those years.
I think maybe the missing context here is that presumably the other players ranking above Delgado in this stretch were almost entirely all connected to PEDs and Delgado was decidedly, trenchantly, not. (Typically, I agree with your argument on parsing and slicing.)
I’m a big hall kind of guy and I want him in there because I was terrified of him whenever the Blue Jays came to Seattle.
I’ve only been to Vieques after the bombing stopped, but there are still parts of that beautiful island you cannot go to due to unexploded ordinance. Incredibly heartbreaking honestly.
My first game I ever saw at Yankee Stadium featured two Carlos Delgado home runs. He came out in the parking lot after the game and signed autographs for fans. I still have that baseball and remember him. Even though I was taller than him, as a 17-year-old kid I felt like he was the biggest person I’d ever seen, like I was still somehow looking up at him.
Much like Big Papi, Edgar Martinez and Vlad Jr., he was one of those guys who always made me nervous when he came up against the Yanks. I kind of wish I could support him more for the HOF, but he’s basically just on the wrong side of the line for me.
I had no idea Delgado was so justice-conscious. I suspect this is at least partially due to the fact that Big Money wants to keep their money.
Great hitter. Great person. Was very sad when he spurned the Orioles for the Marlins in free agency.
I was working as an intern in the Orioles front office in 2003. The Blue Jays came to town and in the late afternoon—but before normal BP—we started hearing “BOOM… BOOM” on the side of the warehouse. Delgado was out taking early BP and kept bouncing balls off Eutaw Street and against the warehouse walls.
I don’t have any strong opinion on him being a Hall of Famer but he is someone I have been thinking a lot about lately because he’s a fantastic example (both in terms of fit and career quality) of a specific archetype: The left handed TTO first baseman. He wasn’t one of the earliest or the best or the most extreme (Willie Stargell has him beaten on all counts, and Willie McCovey, Jim Gentile, and Jim Thome clearly have him beaten on two) but I think of Delgado as being one of the forerunners of some of the *really* high-K guys who came afterwards like Ryan Howard and Chris Davis.
Jay, I have a question for you. Do you see any parallels between the careers of Delgado and Fred McGriff?
I have a blog that I’ve been writing about for a while now, and one of my last posts was about why I was not happy when McGriff got elected to the Hall of Fame 2 years ago.
One of my reasons was since Dave Kingman fell off the writer’s ballot after one year despite hitting 400 career home runs, several more players who hit 400 home runs without having known links to steroids also fell off the ballot after their first year of eligibility, and of the hitters that I used as examples, Delgado was the one that struck me the most because when I looked up his career and compared it to that of McGriff, in more ways than one, to me, they looked very similar to each other. This is one reason why, unlike most people, I am a million percent convinced that McGriff got more support from the writers than what he deserved, not less than what he deserved. So, since McGriff is in the Hall of Fame, it seems to me that the Veterans Committee needs to at least give Delgado serious consideration to have any precedent of consistency.
Am I off here? Do you see any similarities between the careers of Delgado and McGriff? If so, do you think Delgado should be treated similarly to how McGriff was treated by the Veterans Committee?
Yes, they’re similar, quality left-handed thumpers who didn’t do much well besides hit, and who got a bit overshadowed by the PED-fueled sluggers of their day. Delgado has slightly better adjusted rate stats but over a career that was ~1500 PA shorter, and McGriff’s defensive numbers, while subpar, are still better. McGriff has about 8 more career WAR and 5 more JAWS, with a slightly higher peak. I don’t think he was a very good choice for the Hall, and don’t believe that using subpar choices as yardsticks is a sensible approach, even if both seem to be quality human beings. There are just too many first basemen of similar value, even from their era (Olerud and Will Clark both have higher WAR and JAWS), to cherrypick either of them as HOFers.
So many guys that don’t belong on this years ballot. Either they want Bonds and Clemens in or they want to prove they can’t get in no matter what
This guy isn’t even close and he’s not the worst player on the ballot
Saw him as a catcher at Myrtle Beach. It was kind of amusing regularly seeing the catcher stand up and seem to dwarf the ump and opposing batter. Not so much on height but that Delgado was so physically imposing to anyone around him. 18 years old but just a block of granite already
hit .298/.393/.521 (143 OPS+) over 112 PA in his final season (2009, age 37). I love when a player has a great final year, even if its a partial season.
I always thought it was a shame he fell off after one year (on a jammed ballot). And I always thought he would’ve been looked at differently if he had won the MVP award in 2003 instead of finishing runner-up to A-Rod (who later admitted to using PEDs in 2001-2003). Slippery slope to strip awards like they do medals in the Olympics, but the winner of the MVP in Carlos’ other monster year, 1999, was Jason Giambi… He collected 3 Silver Sluggers, but other 1B that won the AL award during Carlo’s time include McGwire, Palmeiro, Giambi, so who knows if he could’ve collected more awards and black ink if not for the PED guys (granted his runs and RBI totals were likely inflated due to teammates probably being PED users as well).
As a footnote, I got to interact with Carlos Delgado some events during the day of his induction to the Blue Jays Level of Excellence in 2013, and he was just as warm and nice as I’d always imagined he was behind that great smile of his. He did not disappoint.