2026 Contemporary Baseball Era Committee Candidate: Jeff Kent

The following article is part of my ongoing look at the candidates on the 2026 Contemporary Baseball Era Committee ballot. Originally written for the 2014 election at SI.com, it has been updated to reflect recent voting results as well as additional research. For a detailed introduction to this year’s ballot, use the navigation tool above. An introduction to JAWS can be found here.
Jeff Kent took a long time to find a home. Drafted by the Blue Jays in 1989, he passed through the hands of three teams that didn’t quite realize the value of what they had. Not until a trade to the Giants in November 1996 — prior to his age-29 season — did he really settle in. Once he did, he established himself as a standout complement to Barry Bonds, helping the Giants become perennial contenders and spending more than a decade as a middle-of-the-lineup force.
Despite his late-arriving stardom and a prickly personality that sometimes rubbed teammates and media the wrong way, Kent earned All-Star honors five times, won an MVP award, and helped four different franchises reach the playoffs a total of seven times. His résumé gives him a claim as the best-hitting second baseman of the post-1960 expansion era — not an iron-clad one, but not one that’s easily dismissed. For starters, he holds the all-time record for most home runs by a second baseman (not counting any other positions) with 351. That’s 35 more than Robinson Canó, 74 more than Ryne Sandberg, 85 more than Joe Morgan, and 87 more than Rogers Hornsby — all Hall of Famers, and in Hornsby’s case, one from before the expansion era. Among players with at least 7,000 plate appearances who spent at least half their time at second base, only Hornsby (.577) has a higher slugging percentage than Kent’s .500. From that latter set, only Hornsby (1.010) and another pre-expansion Hall of Famer, Charlie Gehringer (.884), have a higher OPS than Kent (.855).
Offense isn’t everything for a second baseman, however, and in a Hall of Fame discussion, it needs to be set in its proper context, particularly given the high-scoring era in which Kent played. For example, his 123 OPS+ is a more modest 10th among players who spent at least 50% of their careers at second and have reached the 7,000-plate appearance threshold. Taking the measure of all facets of his game, Kent appears to have a weaker case with regards to advanced statistics than traditional ones.
On crowded BBWAA ballots chock full of candidates with stronger cases on both fronts, Kent struggled to gain support, debuting at 15.2% in 2014 and not reaching 20% until his seventh year of eligibility (2020), when he pulled 27.5%. Thanks to a final-year surge, he reached 46.5% in 2023, a share that sets him up for a long look from the Contemporary Baseball Era Committee. On a ballot where the two hitters with bigger career numbers, Bonds and Gary Sheffield, have been linked to performance-enhancing drugs, Kent might be the most likely candidate for election.
| Player | Career WAR | Peak WAR | JAWS |
|---|---|---|---|
| Jeff Kent | 55.4 | 35.8 | 45.6 |
| Avg. HOF 2B | 69.5 | 44.4 | 57.0 |
| H | HR | AVG/OBP/SLG | OPS+ |
| 2,461 | 377 | .290/.356/.500 | 123 |
Jeffrey Franklin Kent was born in Bellflower, California (a suburb of Los Angeles) on March 7, 1968, the oldest of three sons of Alan and Sherry Kent. While Alan, a motorcycle cop, took his sons to Dodgers games, they were more interested in motocross — a sport in which their father competed — than baseball. “I never watched baseball on TV,” Jeff told Sports Illustrated’s Franz Lidz in 1999 with no apparent trace of irony. “It’s slow and boring. I’m not a fan. Never was.”
Alan, a stern figure and self-described perfectionist, instilled a rather joyless brand of perfectionism in his son. “I’d go 3-for-4, and he’d chastise me for the out. I’d throw a one-hitter, and he’d tell me I could have gotten the hitter on a curve,” Jeff told Lidz. Five years earlier, while playing for the Mets, he told the New York Times’ Jennifer Frey, “I’m a negative guy. I’m not a positive guy. That’s what motivates me — the negatives of the game. The fear of failure, the embarrassment of failure, the fear that I’ll let my teammates down — all that drives me.”
Kent played baseball at Edison High School in Huntington Beach, but despite being an all-county selection as a shortstop, he was kicked off his team as a senior due to a personality conflict. In a 1992 profile for the Los Angeles Times, coach Ron La Ruffa told Mike DiGiovanna that Kent had “an attitude problem” and “a bad case of senioritis.” Kent, for his part, had found himself as a middle man between a demanding coach and unhappy teammates who wanted their star player to speak on their behalf, a no-win situation.
Playing American Legion and Connie Mack League baseball that summer instead, Kent still secured a partial baseball scholarship to the University of California, Berkeley. He helped Cal to the College World Series as a sophomore in 1988, but a broken wrist ended his junior season (his only one under full scholarship), scared away scouts, and dropped his draft stock. Nonetheless, he signed with the Blue Jays when they chose him in the 20th round of the 1989 draft, agreeing to just a $15,000 bonus. Splitting his first professional season between shortstop and third base, he struggled both in the field and at the plate, but showed good power at every minor league stop, as well as a greater aptitude for second base. He was set to start the 1992 season at Triple-A Syracuse, but injuries opened a roster spot in Toronto and playing time at third and second. In his major league debut on April 12, 1992, he doubled off the Orioles’ Jose Mesa; two days later, he hit his first home run, off the Yankees’ Lee Guetterman.
Kent played 65 games for the Blue Jays, hitting .240/.324/.443, but on August 27 — mere days after Dave Winfield joked in the pages of Sports Illustrated that he was Wally Pipp-ing injured third baseman Kelly Gruber — they sent him and a player to be named later to the Mets for David Cone, who went on to help Toronto win the World Series.
Alas, the Mets were headed in the opposite direction, bound for their second straight losing season after seven (1984–90) with at least 87 wins. The 1992 squad gained infamy as The Worst Team Money Could Buy (after the book of the same name), but the ’93 one truly stunk: New York went 59–103, the team’s worst showing since ’65. The 25-year-old Kent spent most of that season as the starting second baseman, hitting a respectable .270/.320/.446 (105 OPS+) with 21 homers in 140 games, but he was terrible in the field (-20 runs, according to Total Zone), offsetting nearly all of his value with the bat; he finished with 0.3 WAR.
Kent maintained that offensive level over the next three seasons, hitting a combined .284/.333/.457 (108 OPS+) and averaging 15 homers a year from 1994 to ’96, and his defense improved enough that he averaged 2.8 WAR across that stretch. Even so, he disliked a 1996 shift to third base, and it took its toll. More from Lidz’ 1999 profile:
“I hated third,” he says. It showed. Once, after a Shea Stadium ball girl backhanded a foul ball, a fan shouted, “Hey, Kent. You should trade positions with her.” When errors — 21 in 89 games — began mounting faster than the national debt, Kent became defensive about his defense. “Bobbling a ball would so humiliate me that I couldn’t speak,” he says.
The Mets remained mired below .500, but Kent caught a break when he was traded to Cleveland in a four-player deal that sent Carlos Baerga to New York; the Mets, on the other hand, caught a falling knife in Baerga, but that’s a story for another day. Cleveland had won the American League pennant the year before and was bound for 99 wins and another postseason appearance. Kent filled in at first, second, third, and designated hitter down the stretch and started twice in a losing cause in the Division Series. On November 13, he was part of a six-player trade that sent him to San Francisco, with slugging third baseman Matt Williams headlining Cleveland’s end of the deal.
Giants manager Dusty Baker wasn’t wild about the trade because of Kent’s temper, but he did return him to second base and batted him cleanup behind Bonds. Now 29 years old, Kent responded by setting career highs with 155 games, 29 homers, 121 RBIs, and 4.1 WAR despite a rather lopsided .250/.316/.472 line that equated to a modest 105 OPS+. The Giants won the National League West at 90–72, but they were swept by the Marlins in the Division Series despite a pair of solo homers from Kent in Game 3. He received down-ballot support in the MVP race, finishing eighth in the voting.
Thus began Kent’s six-year run of 20-homer/100-RBI seasons, thanks in part to hitting behind Bonds, an on-base machine as well as an elite slugger. Kent matured at the plate, suddenly able to hit for both average and power after altering his stance by holding his hands higher, an epiphany that came from watching Edgar Martinez. In 1998, Kent hit .297/.359/.555 with 31 homers and 4.5 WAR, but the Giants lost a Game 163 play-in for the Wild Card — something they might have avoided had they not gone 11–13 while Kent missed most of June due to a hyperextended knee.
Kent earned All-Star honors for the first time in 1999, then took his game to a new level in 2000 as the Giants moved into brand new Pacific Bell Park (now Oracle Park) and won the NL West with a 97–65 mark; he hit .334/.424/.596 with 33 homers and 7.2 WAR that year, all career bests. The latter mark ranked fourth in the league, but thanks to his 125 RBIs, he beat out Bonds (who hit .306/.440/.688 with 49 homers, 106 RBIs and 7.7 WAR) in the MVP race. The Giants lost the Division Series to the Mets in four games despite Kent going 6-for-16.
The 2001 season was Bonds’ turn to shine, as he bashed 73 homers to shatter the single-season record and won his fourth MVP award. By that point, however, tensions between the two stars were bubbling to the surface. In the August 27 issue of SI, Kent told Rick Reilly, “On the field, we’re fine, but off the field, I don’t care about Barry and Barry doesn’t care about me. [Pause.] Or anybody else.” Kent himself had a good year (.298/.369/.507, 5.2 WAR) and earned All-Star honors, but the Giants missed the playoffs.
The 2002 season saw highs and lows for the 34-year-old Kent. On March 1, he broke a bone in his wrist, initially claiming it happened while washing his truck. Soon it surfaced that eyewitnesses reported seeing a motorcyclist crash while doing a wheelie near Scottsdale Stadium in Arizona, the Giants’ spring training home; further information showed that it was Kent, riding in violation of his contract. The incident became the butt of jokes, but the Giants showed leniency, and Kent wound up missing just four games. On June 25, after yelling at third baseman David Bell, Kent scuffled with Bonds in the dugout. Afterward, he dismissed the altercation, saying it wasn’t a “big deal” and adding it to the “half-dozen times we’ve done it before.” Even so, he was also reported as telling Baker afterwards, “I want off this team.”
For all of the tension, Kent set a new career high with 37 homers, hitting .313/.368/.565 en route to 7.1 WAR (second in the league), helping the Giants win 96 games and the NL Wild Card; they proceeded to beat the Braves and Cardinals to advance to the World Series against the Angels. Kent hit .276/.290/.621 in 31 plate appearances in the Series, homering in a losing cause in Game 2, then homering twice and driving in four runs in a 16–4 rout in Game 5 that put the Giants within one win of their first championship since moving to San Francisco in 1958.
In Game 6, the Giants were up 5–0 with nine outs to go when all hell broke loose after a pair of three-run Angels rallies, the second keyed by a Bonds error. San Francisco lost the last two games, with Kent going 0-for-4 with two strikeouts in Game 7.
That was it for Kent’s run in San Francisco. In December, he signed a two-year, $18.2 million deal with the Astros, bumping All-Star second baseman Craig Biggio to center field. Superficially, Kent’s performance with Houston (.293/.350/.521 in 2003–04) looked a whole lot like his six years in San Francisco (.297/.368/.535), but in reality, hitter-friendly Minute Maid Park was masking his decline. He totaled just 6.7 WAR over those two years; his OPS+, meanwhile, went from 136 as a Giant to 121 as an Astro — good, but not outstanding. Kent missed four weeks in 2003 due to wrist inflammation, and again, his injury probably cost his team a playoff spot. Despite the presence of Biggio, Jeff Bagwell, and Lance Berkman, the Astros went 12–11 in his absence and lost the NL Central by one game.
Kent earned All-Star honors for the fourth time in 2004 and hit 27 homers. Career home run no. 300 came off St. Louis’ Jeff Suppan on September 29, and no. 278 as a second baseman — the record-breaker at the position — came on October 2 off Colorado’s Adam Bernero. Bolstered by the midseason arrival of Carlos Beltrán, the Astros won 92 games and the Wild Card, then beat the Braves to advance to the NLCS against the Cardinals. Kent homered three times in the series, with his three-run shot off Jason Isringhausen in the ninth inning of Game 5 providing all of the scoring and putting Houston one win away from their first trip to the World Series, but the team lost the next two.
A free agent again, Kent came full circle, not only returning to California but signing a two-year deal with the Dodgers, who had won the NL West in 2004. Alas, he was one of the few bright spots on a squad that tumbled to 71–91 amid such a slew of injuries that he was one of just two players to reach 100 hits. Kent himself was limited to 115 games and 0.7 WAR the following year due to wrist and oblique injuries, not to mention deteriorating defense (-18 Defensive Runs Saved). His 14 homers and 68 RBIs ended a string of nine straight years of at least 22 homers and 93 RBIs, though his last homer was noteworthy. Hit on September 18, 2006 off the Padres’ Jon Adkins, it was the first of four consecutive ninth-inning homers that allowed the Dodgers to tie a game they ultimately won. Los Angeles soon claimed the NL West flag, but despite Kent going bananas in the Division Series against the Mets (8-for-13 with a double and a homer), the Dodgers were nonetheless swept.
In March 2006, Kent signed an extension to cover the ’07 season with an option for ’08. At 39, he had one more big year with the stick left (.302/.375/.500, 21 home runs), though bad defense (-12 DRS) again offset much of his value, limiting him to 2.2 WAR. Late in the year, as the Dodgers’ playoff hopes slipped away, he made waves by criticizing the professionalism of some of the team’s young players, particularly Matt Kemp. Kent mulled retirement but returned for 2008, then hit just .280/.327/.418 with 12 homers. He needed late-August knee surgery before coming back for the playoffs — the Dodgers had won the NL West at 84–78 — but was limited to a bench role. In January of the following year, he announced his retirement.
…
Kent finished with respectable counting stats (2,461 hits and 377 homers) to accompany a hefty .290/.356/.500 line, particularly for a player who spent almost 90% of his career as a middle infielder. Among post-expansion players who spent most of their careers at the keystone, only Biggio (3,060), Roberto Alomar (2,724), Canó (2,639), and Morgan (2,517) accumulated more hits, though Jose Altuve (2,388) could surpass Kent next season. Canó’s 335 homers is the next closest total to Kent’s 377 (it’s 316 to 351 going by the strict split as second basemen), but where he once had a shot of claiming the record, a pair of PED suspensions — including a full-season one in 2021 — and a quick decline thereafter doomed that quest. Kent is also the runaway leader in RBIs among second basemen, with a 1,518 to 1,306 edge over Canó, and Biggio (1,175) a very distant third.
At a cutoff of 7,000 plate appearances for players who spent the majority of their careers at second base (of whom there are 47), Kent’s slugging percentage is second, and his batting average is in a virtual tie for 14th, but his on-base percentage is in a virtual tie for for 23rd. Adjusting for the offensive environment of his era, his 123 OPS+ ranks 10th within that group, though among post-expansion second basemen, it’s a more impressive fifth behind Morgan (132), Altuve (127), the unjustly bypassed Bobby Grich (125), and Canó (124). From that vantage, his candidacy for Cooperstown certainly has credibility, particularly because second base is generally a defense-first position where the offensive bar is lower.
But that bar is lower because in the middle infield, defense counts, and Kent not only didn’t add extra value with the leather relative to other post-expansion second basemen, he was in the red — and again, this is including those players’ time at all positions. By Baseball Reference’s combination of Total Zone and Defensive Runs Saved, he’s 42 runs below average for his career, which ranks 41st among those 47 longtime second basemen. Hall of Famers Morgan (-48) and Biggio (-100) both rank below him, albeit in considerably longer careers, and Altuve (-96) is below him as well. Forty-two runs below average isn’t a great place to be, although — to bring in a comparison to another candidate on this ballot — it’s nowhere near as bad as Sheffield’s -195 runs at third base and in the outfield, a figure so ridiculous I can only read it as hyperbole.
Coupling offense and defense and adjusting for ballpark and era, Kent’s total of 55.4 WAR ranks 19th among second basemen, respectable but nonetheless 14.1 WAR below the average enshrined second baseman and better than just seven of the 20 enshrined, none of them BBWAA selections. Even among those below the Hall average, he’s a mile behind Sandberg (68.0), Alomar (67.0), Biggio (65.5, even with inferior defense), and Chase Utley (64.6), whose careers overlapped with his. Only twice did he even have a WAR that cracked the league’s top 10.
That puts a dent in his peak WAR, which covers his best seven seasons; his 35.8 is tied for 28th. Kent is almost nine wins behind the average Hall of Fame second baseman and below 14 of the 20 enshrined because he had just three seasons of at least 5.0 WAR and two more seasons of at least 4.0. By comparison, Morgan had 10 seasons of at least 5.0 WAR, and Canó had seven; Alomar, Grich, Ian Kinsler, Dustin Pedroia, Sandberg, and Utley had six apiece. Even at the 4.0-WAR bar, 12 post-expansion second basemen had more big seasons.
In the end, Kent’s 45.6 JAWS is 11.4 points below the Hall standard for second basemen, 22nd all-time, below 12 of the 20 Hall of Famers. To return to the Sheffield comparison, since I mentioned his defensive metrics, his 49.5 JAWS is 6.5 points below the standard among right fielders, a substantial difference.
Kent’s JAWS gap is too wide to be made up for by the parts of his résumé that the system doesn’t capture, mainly the awards and the postseason performance (a characteristic .276/.340/.500 with nine homers in 189 plate appearances). Outside of his 2000 MVP award, his highest finish was sixth; he made just five All-Star teams and never won a Gold Glove. Kent scores 122 (“a good possibility”) on the Bill James Hall of Fame Monitor, but the average score for a Hall of Fame second baseman is 161.
When Kent debuted on the 2014 ballot, I noted that it was rare that my own system surprised me to such an extent, as the distance between him and the JAWS standard for second baseman was a case where the data ran counter to my gut feeling at the time. That said, it bears remembering that Kent played in such a high-offense era that 40 players with at least 5,000 plate appearances over the span of his career (1992–2008) surpassed his OPS+, in contrast to only six surpassing his RBI total, and it was the ribbies that made his reputation. Moreover, while he accumulated 9,537 plate appearances, he reached 600 in only six seasons due to injuries and the players’ strike, and only 500 in 11. Only some of that owes to being mishandled by the Mets; health is another factor.
As I suspected when he debuted, voters had a hard time finding room for Kent. Each of his first five years on the ballot featured at least 10 players who score above the JAWS average at their position, the maximum that an individual can vote for under the rules. The count eventually decreased:

Kent debuted with just 15.2% in 2014 and spent the next few years riding a very tiny rollercoaster, with a low of 14.0% in ’15 and a high of 18.1% in ’19. With ballot space less of an issue in 2020, he not only cleared 20% for the first time but jumped to 27.5% — a solid gain, but just the seventh-largest of that cycle. He reached 32.4% in 2021, then basically replicated that with 32.7% in ’22 before jumping to 46.5% in ’23. It took until his final cycle for him to post his first double-digit gain.
Still, that late surge is significant. Kent has the eighth-highest share of any player who has yet to gain entry; three of those players will be on this year’s BBWAA ballot (which will be announced next Monday) and could be elected soon, while Kent is one of four on this ballot:
| Player | Year | Highest % | Status |
|---|---|---|---|
| Curt Schilling | 2021 | 71.1% | — |
| Carlos Beltrán | 2025 | 70.3% | 2026 BBWAA (4th) |
| Andruw Jones | 2025 | 66.2% | 2026 BBWAA (9th) |
| Barry Bonds | 2022 | 66.0% | 2026 Contemporary Baseball ballot |
| Roger Clemens | 2022 | 65.2% | 2026 Contemporary Baseball ballot |
| Gary Sheffield | 2024 | 63.9% | 2026 Contemporary Baseball ballot |
| Omar Vizquel | 2020 | 52.6% | 2026 BBWAA (9th) |
| Jeff Kent | 2023 | 46.5% | 2026 Contemporary Baseball ballot |
| Roger Maris | 1988 | 43.1% | 2022 Golden Days ballot |
| Steve Garvey | 1995 | 42.6% | 2025 Classic Baseball ballot |
| Maury Wills | 1981 | 40.6% | 2022 Golden Days ballot |
| Marty Marion | 1970 | 40.0% | — |
Everybody else who has surpassed Maris’ share of the vote has eventually been elected via either the writers or a committee. Some, like Jack Morris (who peaked at 67.7%) and Lee Smith (50.6%) to call upon a couple of recent examples, had comparatively short waits while others, such as Gil Hodges (63.4%), Tony Oliva (47.3%), and Ron Santo (43.1%) had to wait decades; Hodges and Santo were elected posthumously. Relative to the seven players above him on the list, Kent is probably the most scandal-free, with no links to PEDs, illegal sign stealing, domestic violence, sexual harassment, or, uh, electoral self-sabotage. His motorcycle mishap is quaintly amusing by comparison, and his battles with Bonds and vocal advocacy for PED testing points in his favor, at least in some quarters. Post-career, aside from appearing on a season of the reality show Survivor, one of his most visible actions was a $531,000 donation to endow women’s sports scholarships at Cal, building on annual contributions he made throughout his playing days.
Kent appears to be following in the footsteps of two players who would have grazed that list several years ago, namely Alan Trammell and Fred McGriff. Trammell debuted with 15.7% on the 2002 ballot but didn’t surpass 20% until 2010, his ninth year of eligibility (this was back when candidates had 15 years on the writers’ ballot). He jumped to 36.8% in 2012, the year before Bonds and company started clogging the ballot, but slipped below 30% for a couple of years before finishing with 40.9% in 2016; he was elected by the Modern Baseball Era Committee two years later. McGriff debuted with 21.5% in 2010, and eight years later had only grown his support to 23.2%, having topped that mark just once, by less than a point, along the way. In 2019, his 10th and final year of BBWAA eligibility, he surged to 39.8%, and then was elected via the 2022 Contemporary Baseball ballot.
Between his PED-free reputation and a statistical case that’s more appealing in terms of home runs and RBIs than WAR and JAWS, Kent is the archetype of an Era Committee selection — a middle-infield McGriff (44.3 JAWS), perhaps with less charisma. I wouldn’t include him on my ballot if I had one, but then I never found room for him on my virtual or actual ballots either given how far he was below the second base standard. Still, I won’t be the least bit surprised if he’s elected, and if he’s the only one from this panel who gains entry this year.
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.
I wouldn’t be that upset if Kent got in. I agree with the analysis that he’s way below the positional average, but I think the positional average at 2B is much too high. Its similar, though perhaps not quite as exaggerated, as the problem at 3B: Voters haven’t really given players enough credit for the positional differences, and so the offensive standard is too high. 3B basically get held to the same offensive standard as corner OF and 1B, and 2b basically to what 3B ought to be.
Given that, I think that there’s a bunch of 2B who are entirely acceptable additions to the Hall, who are both below the current average but entirely reasonable cases who could help bring that positional average down to a more sane number.
I think this list includes Lou Whitaker, Jeff Kent and Chase Utley. They’re not slam dunks, but neither are they McGriff or Baines: they’re reasonable inclusions that should appeal to big-hall people. Comparing people to the average HoFer makes a lot of sense at positions that have a lot of dubious inclusions; for positions with under-representation, it is a little misleading.
Also, I didnt have access to the Dodgers’ TV broadcast in 2006, but I was following that game on MLB GameDay, and it’s still the night I think of whenever people make “In play, run(s)” jokes; with the bases empty in all 4 ABs, there was no mystery about what had happened and it was unbelievable.
Don’t forget Bobby Grich, who is arguably better than all the 2B you mentioned.
Yep another good choice just not one that’s coming up in the current ballot discussion
I wish he was. He was essentially Chase Utley in Baltimore and Jeff Kent in Cal, with what I was consider two separate peaks. He was so good! I hope he gets inducted while he is still with us.
Why did Grich retire? He retired before 2000 hits, an obvious milestone. If players don’t care enough about the HOF to hit obvious milestones, why should I?
Grich had back injuries. It wasn’t exactly by choice he retired.
I’d place Utley, Whitaker, and Grich on a different stratosphere from Kent, myself.
You lost me at Baines being a reasonable inclusion
That isn’t what I said. I’m sorry you can’t read.
As another Dodger fan, I will never forgive Kent for all the shit he gave Matt Kemp especially, but also James Loney, Andre Ethier, and Russell Martin. As the so-called leadership on the team he was a terrible leader. Then his veteran leadership led to the worst post season baserunning I’ve ever seen as he couldn’t come close to scoring from second on a clear double off the wall hit by Russell Martin in the infamous Kent and JD Drew thrown out at the plate on the same play.
Leader my ass.
That play made me really sad at the time but in retrospect them running into 2 outs at the plate is one of the most comedic baseball plays I’ve ever seen.
Jay, I’ve noticed you use the average hall of famer benchmark a lot and I wonder if you could talk more about it, here, in a chat or in a column. It seems like a possible demarcation of Big Hall vs. Small Hall.
To me, the Hall of Fame, someone who would be below average amongst other Hall of Famers is still a Hall of Famer. That’s not to say that anyone who is above the worst Hall of Famer should be in. I don’t buy the argument that “well, if Harold Baines is in, then X should be.” But if you’d be, say, in the 30th percentile of Hall of Famers, I’d say you’re still a Hall of Famer. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about Kent, but if he were to get in and rank 13th out of 21 HOF second basemen, I might be ok with that (the non-BBWAA selections thing throws a bit of wrench in there, but I’ll leave that aside for the moment because the implications of that are hard to grapple with). Maybe that makes me a Big Hall guy, I don’t know.
If we’re saying that being an above average HOF is the bar (which I don’t think is what your’e saying), then that raises things significantly for prospective inductees, doesn’t it? It’s at least a Small Hall kind of standard.
Kent would be ranked 13th out of 21 HOFers because several guys better than him aren’t HOFers and should be or will be, and several guys worse than him are HOFers and shouldn’t be.
That said, I’m with you on below-average HOFers still being HOFers. I do think Kent is probably a HOFer. I don’t like the idea. I don’t like Kent. There’s no injustice in him being left out. If I were on the committee, I’d figure out a way to vote for another three guys. But if I liked him, I’m sure I’d probably say: “Yeah, HOFer — I’ll think about the other guys who are equal or more deserving when they put them on a committee ballot.” Thing is, who roots for Kent?
I don’t like Kent, either, but also after reading about his childhood, I can see exactly how he became a prickly [redacted]. I feel roughly neutral towards him now as a personal matter
I think Kent is a good example of something I was talking about yesterday re: Bonds and Sheffield, which is that we know guys like Dick Allen got treated differently when they were standoffish pricks than white athletes, and this continued into guys who debuted in the 1980s, and Kent vs Sheffield is a great example of that, because even at the time no one really held Kent’s dickishness against him in the same way. That isnt just a 70s phenomenon, it’s really a 20th century one
The answer to the question is really Jay Jaffe’s entire career of writing. He has a great book for a more in depth dive if you are curious. I think it boils down to if you hold the standard to the average Hall of Famer it won’t be watered down further. I don’t think Jaffe is a small hall guy so to speak.
A slightly longer version of how I explained it on Bluesky the other day:
The JAWS project was originally conceived ~22 years ago as a means to identify and endorse candidates who meet or exceed the standards at their position while avoiding using lower-tier Hall of Famers as yardsticks for election.
Over the decades I’ve loosened that a bit — and made clear that I don’t think WAR/JAWS should be the only criteria by which one bases Hall votes — but I won’t recommend or vote for candidates that are far off the standards (I think the lowest I’ve gone is David Ortiz, about 8 points below @ 1B, offset by a massive postseason impact).
Perhaps this is obvious, but given that the distribution of candidate quality is radically asymmetrical above and below the average, any voter who supports more than a small fraction of candidates below that line is in effect advocating the dilution of the standard. That’s not to say it has to be an absolute bar against voting for a single candidate but it should require quite a bit of discretion. This isn’t a distinction between “small” and “large” Halls so much as it’s finite or infinite ones.
Honest question: how much of that asymmetry is due to HOFers who accrued absolutely massive WAR totals pre-1960, or even pre-1940 — when the nature of competition was so radically different (and different in many ways) than post-1960? Talent is much more evenly distributed now, and has been for awhile. Outside of Bonds and Pujols and Henderson, Clemens and Maddux and Johnson, contemporary HOF-level guys seem to be heavily clustered around 60-72 WAR. But I haven’t done the math.
Its different across positions. 3B has a notoriously high standard and a minimal number of buddy-system inductions from the 50s/60s veterans committees, so the positional average there is absolutely insane. At other positions, it’s significantly diluted by those sorts of players.
I think you (and possibly whoever the hell is downvoting this? baffling.) are misunderstanding my point, which is a very basic one. The distribution of talent here isn’t among Hall of Famers, it’s among Hall candidates. There are always going to be many more below-average candidates than above-average ones for an award that is designed to be way out on one end of the bell curve of major-leaguers.
Ah, I did misunderstand. (And I didn’t downvote.)
If Harold Baines is in, about 2000 other players should be in as well
I agree, I feel like using the average as a baseline is a bit unfair. The bar will gradually keep getting higher and higher. That is already happening regardless for hitters. Players that recorded 1,000+ ABs between 1910-1940 had an 8.8% of making the HOF, whereas, players with 1,000+ between 1970-2000 only had a 5.5% chance.
He’s generally put 50 JAWS as table stakes for a HoF convo
Jay, how much of an affect will Jeff’s poor performance in recognizing the shifting tribal alliances post-merge in Survivor: Philippines have on the sixteen committee members in the room?
Just FYI, in the paragraphs summarizing his ranking among other post-1960 second basemen, here:
The stathead link isn’t going to an OPS+ rank for second basemen, it’s going to the leaderboard for 2025 home runs.
His peak feels more like a recommendation to vote for Bonds. Would he have done that without him? If it were any other player, I’d say it wouldn’t matter but Kent surely saw huge benefit from hitting near Bonds
I don’t see it – Sheffield is a much better candidate
This leads me to a question
The concept of protection has largely been debunked, but is it more real in extreme cases? Better yet, what would the parameters be (how good or bad a hitter must the “protector” be) for protection concept to be real?
He hit after Bonds. He basically had runners on base all the time and the benefit of hitting with runners on is real.
Kent with no one on base: .286/.343/.509
Kent with runners on base: .294/.368/.490
While hitters in general do better with runners on base, Kent himself hit about the same.
“Hard” protection has (that the followup batter helps the lead batter have better rate results). But there’s also “soft” protection, where the followup guy can force the opposition to pitch to the lead guy more often-and that definitely happened to Bonds post-Kent’s departure with all those IBBs, and an informal check I made of the performance of the batters after a Bonds IBB in those years was absolutely horrendous. The Giants clearly made a mistake by not prioritizing getting a RHH slugger to hit behind him after Kent left.
Blecch.