“Juan Soto hates swinging.” That’s a takeaway you’re sure to hear if you follow baseball this winter. His free agency is the biggest story of the next few months, and his offensive approach drives fans to distraction. Walks aren’t all that fun, and Soto feasts on them. How could you not bring it up when your team is pursuing him for a record-breaking deal?

From a certain standpoint, it’s true that Soto hates swinging. Of the 101 batters who saw at least 1,500 pitches with zero or one strikes this past season, Soto ranked 99th in swing rate on those pitches. When he isn’t defending the plate with two strikes, he spends a ton of time with the bat on his shoulder.

That’s not a specific enough way of looking at it, though. For an example, let’s chop the strike zone up into pieces. Soto saw 675 pitches that weren’t in the strike zone or even near it – what Baseball Savant defines as the chase and waste zones. He swung at 6.5% of those, 42nd out of the 44 batters who saw 500 or more such pitches. He was almost never fooled into swinging at awful pitches, in other words.

Next consider the edges of the zone – pitches that are either barely strikes or barely balls. There aren’t a lot of good options on these pitches. Hitters don’t generally crush the ball when it’s located on the corners, unless they’re sitting on either a pitch or a location. Sure, if you’re looking high and away, you might tag it, but more likely you’ll swing and miss or make weak contact. Soto swung at 31.3% of these pitches, the second-lowest rate in baseball.

Those pitches in the chase and waste zones? You shouldn’t swing at them. There, Soto’s patience is an obvious asset. The ones on the borderline? It’s less obvious. There are great hitters who take an expansive approach to borderline pitches, like Bobby Witt Jr. and Yordan Alvarez. There are awful hitters who do it too, as you’d expect. Swinging too much at offerings we call “pitcher’s pitches” is pretty clearly not going to pan out every time.

Likewise, discretion is no guarantee of valor. There are great hitters who, like Soto, mostly let these pitches go. Aaron Judge and Kyle Schwarber fit the bill. It’s not just high-walk-rate sluggers, either; Matt Chapman, Adley Rutschman, Nolan Arenado, and even Randy Arozarena behave this way. On the other hand, plenty of bad hitters take borderline pitches and are still bad.
Read the rest of this entry »

The following article is part of a series concerning the 2025 Classic Baseball Era Committee ballot, covering long-retired players, managers, executives, and umpires whose candidacies will be voted upon on December 8. For an introduction to the ballot, see here, and for an introduction to JAWS, see here. Several profiles in this series are adapted from work previously published at SI.com, Baseball Prospectus, and Futility Infielder. All WAR figures refer to the Baseball-Reference version unless otherwise indicated.

One of three brothers who spent time in the majors, Ken Boyer spent the bulk of his 15-year career (1955-69) vying with Hall of Famers Eddie Mathews and Ron Santo for recognition as the National League’s top third baseman. An outstanding all-around player with good power, speed, and an excellent glove — but comparatively little flash, for he was all business – Boyer earned All-Star honors in seven seasons and won five Gold Gloves, all of them during his initial 11-year run with the Cardinals. In 1964, he took home NL MVP honors while helping St. Louis to its first championship in 18 years.

Boyer was born on May 20, 1931 in Liberty, Missouri, the third-oldest son in a family of 14 (!) children whose father, Vern Boyer, operated a general store and service station in nearby Alba, where the family lived. Ken was nearly four years younger than Cloyd Boyer, a righty who pitched in the majors from 1949–52 and ’55, and nearly six years older than Clete Boyer, also a third baseman from 1955–57 and ’59–71; four other brothers (Wayne, Lynn, Len, and Ron) played in the minors. As a teen, Ken often competed against a shortstop named Mickey Mantle, who played for the Baxter Springs Whiz Kids, based in Kansas, just across the border from Oklahoma.

At Alba High School, Ken starred in basketball and football as well as baseball, and received scholarship offers from more than a dozen major colleges and universities. The Yankees were interested, but with Boyer’s high school coach, Buford Cooper, serving as a bird dog scout from the Cardinals, he leaned toward St. Louis. In 1949, Cardinals scout Runt Marr recommended him for a special tryout at Sportsman’s Park, and the team liked him enough to sign him as a pitcher, paying him a $6,000 bonus, $1,000 under the limit that would have required him to remain on the major league roster (a “bonus baby”). While Boyer’s pitching results weren’t awful, he took his strong arm to third base when the need presented itself on his Class D Hamilton Cardinals team in 1950; he hit .342, slugged .575, and showed off outstanding defense.

In 1951, the Cardinals committed to Boyer as a full-time third baseman. At A-level Omaha, he overcame a slow start to hit .306/.354/.455, refining his game on both sides of the ball under the tutelage of manager George Kissell, a legendary baseball lifer whose six decades in the St. Louis organization spanned from Stan Musial’s pre-World War II days as a pitcher to Tony La Russa’s tenure as a manager. Boyer’s progress to the majors was interrupted by a two-year stint in the Army during the Korean War; serving overseas in Germany and Africa, he missed the 1952 and ’53 seasons. Upon returning, the 23-year-old Boyer put in a strong season at Double-A Houston in 1954, then made the Cardinals out of spring training the following year, and even homered in his major league debut, a two-run shot off the Cubs’ Paul Minner in a blowout. That was the first of 18 homers Boyer hit as a rookie while batting .264/.311/.425 (94 OPS+); he also stole 22 bases but was caught a league-high 17 times.

Boyer came into his own in 1956, batting .306/.347/.494 (124 OPS+) with 26 homers and making his first All-Star team. According to Sports Illustrated’s Robert Creamer, in the spring, Cardinals manager Fred Hutchinson marveled at his 6-foot-1, 190-pound third baseman. “He’s the kind of player you dream about: terrific speed, brute strength, a great arm. There’s nothing he can’t do,” said Hutchinson. “I think he has the greatest future of any young player in the league.” However, Boyer’s calm in the face of some second-half regression — he didn’t walk or homer at all in August while hitting just .219/.217/.254 — led to criticism from Hutchinson and general manager Frank Lane, as well as a stint on the bench. More via Creamer:

“Lane talked to me,” Boyer said. “He’s talked about drive and aggressiveness. I don’t think I really know what he means. I know that I try, that I give everything I have. I don’t loaf. I know that all my life people have been saying that to me, that I don’t look as if I’m trying. I guess I don’t look as if I’m putting out. But I am.

“I don’t think hustle is something you can see all the time. Like Enos Slaughter. Everybody talks about the way he runs in and off the field between innings. That’s the least important part of Slaughter’s hustle. The thing that counts is the way he runs on the bases and in the outfield. That’s what makes him a hustling ballplayer, not the way he runs off the field.”

Fortunately, Boyer finished the season with a strong September. It was the first year of a nine-season run across which he hit a combined .299/.364/.491 (124 OPS+) while averaging 25 homers and 6.1 WAR. He ranked among the NL’s top 10 in WAR seven times in that span, with five top-10 finishes in both batting average and on-base percentage, and four in slugging percentage. In 1957, the Cardinals took him up on his offer to play center field so as to allow rookie Eddie Kasko to play third base. Boyer fared well at the spot defensively (Total Zone credits him with being eight runs above average in 105 games) but moved back to the hot corner full time in 1958 when the team called up 20-year-old prospect Curt Flood, who had been acquired from the Reds the previous December. In 1959, the Cardinals named Boyer team captain.

Boyer set career highs in home runs (32), slugging percentage (.570) and OPS+ (144) in 1960, then followed that up with highs in WAR (8.0), AVG, and OBP while hitting .329/.397/.533 (136 OPS+) in ’61. He made the All-Star team every year from 1959–64, including the twice-a-summer version of the event in the first four of those seasons.

The Cardinals were not a very good team for the first leg of Boyer’s career; from 1954–59, they cracked .500 just once, going 87-67 in ’57. With Boyer absorbing the lessons of Musial and helping to pass them along to a younger core — Flood, first baseman Bill White, second baseman Julian Javier, and later catcher Tim McCarver — the team began trending in the right direction. The Cardinals went 86-68 in 1960, and continued to improve, particularly as right-hander Bob Gibson emerged as a star.

After going 93-69 and finishing second to the Dodgers in 1963 — a six-game deficit, their smallest since ’49 — they matched that record and won the pennant the following year, spurred by the mid-June acquisition of left fielder Lou Brock. They beat out a Phillies team that closed September with 10 straight losses despite the strong play of rookie Dick Allen, who is also on the ballot and was then known as Richie. Boyer hit .295/.365/.489 (130 OPS+) in 1964 while driving in a league-high 119 runs. In a case of the writers rewarding the top player on a winning team with the MVP award, he took home the trophy, though his 6.1 WAR ranked a modest 10th, well behind Willie Mays (11.0), Santo (8.9), Allen (8.8), and Frank Robinson (7.9), among several others.

Though Boyer hit just .222/.241/.481 in the seven-game World Series against the Yankees and his brother Clete, he came up big by supplying all the scoring in the Cardinals’ 4-3 win in Game 4 with his grand slam off Al Downing. Additionally, he went 3-for-4 with a double and a homer in their 7-5 win in Game 7. Clete also homered in the latter game, to date the only time that brothers have homered in the same World Series game.

Hampered by back problems, Boyer slipped to a 91 OPS and 1.8 WAR in 1965, his age-34 season, after which he was traded to the Mets — whose general manager, Bing Devine, had served as the Cardinals’ GM from late 1957 until August ’64 — for pitcher Al Jackson and third baseman Charley Smith. At the time, it was the biggest trade the Mets had made. Boyer, whom Devine had acquired as much for his veteran leadership as for his playing skills, rebounded to a 101 OPS+ and 2.9 WAR, albeit on a 95-loss team going nowhere. The following July, he was traded to the White Sox, who were running first in what wound up as a thrilling four-team race that went down to the season’s final day. The White Sox were managed by Eddie Stanky, who had been at the helm when Boyer broke in with the Cardinals. Though Boyer didn’t play badly, he appeared in just 67 games for the team before being released in May 1968. He was picked up by the Dodgers and spent the remainder of that season and the next with them in a reserve role.

The Dodgers asked Boyer to return as a coach for 1970, but he instead chose to return to the Cardinals organization so he could manage in the minors. He spent five seasons guiding various Cardinals affiliates in Arkansas, Florida, and Oklahoma, interrupted by a two-year stint (1971–72) as a coach on the big league staff. Bypassed when the Cardinals hired Vern Rapp to succeed Red Schoendienst after the 1976 season, he spent ’77 managing the Orioles’ Triple-A Rochester affiliate, but when the Cardinals fired Rapp after a 6-10 start in ’78, he returned to take over. The team went just 62-82 on his watch, but the next year, Boyer guided the Cardinals to an 86-76 record and a third-place finish.

Alas, when the Cardinals skidded to an 18-33 start in 1980, the team replaced Boyer with Whitey Herzog, whose tenure in St. Louis would include three pennants and a championship. Boyer accepted reassignment into a scouting role, and was slated to manage the team’s Triple-A Louisville affiliate in 1982, but he had to decline the opportunity when he was diagnosed with lung cancer. He was just 52 years old when he died on September 7, 1982. The Cardinals retired his number 14 in 1984, and 40 years later, he’s still the team’s only former player with that honor who’s not in the Hall of Fame.

On that subject, Boyer never got much traction in the BBWAA voting, either before or after his death. From 1975–79, he maxed out at 4.7%, and was bumped off the ballot when the Five Percent rule was put in place in ’80. He was one of 11 players who had his eligibility restored in 1985, and he was among the five players who cleared the bar to stay on the ballot, along with Allen, Flood, Santo, and Vada Pinson. He remained on the ballot through 1994, topping out at a meager 25.5% in ’88, nowhere near enough for election. Neither did he fare well via the expanded Veterans Committee in the 2003, ’05, and ’07 elections, maxing out at 18.8% in the middle of those years. Similarly, on the 2012 and ’15 Golden Era ballots, and the ’22 Golden Days ballot, he didn’t receive enough support to have his actual vote total announced; customarily, the Hall lumps together all of the candidates below a certain (varying) threshold as “receiving fewer than x” votes to avoid embarrassing them (or their descendants) with the news of a shutout.

All of which is to say that once again, Boyer feels more like ballast than a true candidate, here to round out a ballot without having much chance at getting elected. That’s a shame, because he was damn good. For the 1956–64 period, he ranked sixth among all position players in value:

That’s a pretty good group! Of course the comparison is manicured perfectly to Boyer’s best years, but even if I expand the range to cover the full extent of his career, he’s ninth on the list, in similar company (Kaline, Clemente, and Banks pass him), and one spot ahead of Santo. Boyer was a better fielder than Santo (via Total Zone, +73 runs to +20), and a better baserunner (+20 runs to -34, including double play avoidance), though not as good a hitter (116 OPS+ to 125).

Even though he probably would have reached the majors earlier if not for his military service, Boyer ranks 14th among third basemen in JAWS, just 1.8 points below the standard, with a seven-year peak that ranks ninth, 3.0 points above the standard. At a position that’s grossly underrepresented — there are just 17 enshrined third basemen, not including Negro League players, compared to 20 second basemen, 23 shortstops, and 28 right fielders — that should be good enough for Cooperstown.

To these eyes it is. I included Boyer on both my 2015 and ’22 virtual ballots, both of which allowed voters to choose four candidates from among a slate of 10. With the 2022 tweaks to the Era Committee format, voters can now tab just three candidates out of eight, and so for as much as I believe Boyer is worthy, the new math requires a more extensive ballot triage. His past levels of support illustrate that he’s never gotten more than 25% on an Era Committee ballot, suggesting that he’s a long shot. Even though he has a slightly higher career WAR, peak WAR, and JAWS than Allen (58.7/45.9/52.3), the fact that the latter — who endured considerable racism and shabby treatment during his career — has fallen one vote short in back-to-back elections opposite Boyer has already led me to dedicate one of my three spots to him. That leaves me just two to play with. For now, the best I can do is to leave Boyer in play for one of those spots, but I already think I’m leaning away from selecting him for my final ballot.

Every year when the postseason rolls around, we enjoyers of baseball try our best to make sure we’re properly appreciating the history unfolding on the field before us. We want to acknowledge when we’ve just watched a game so magical that it will be spoken of in tones of awe and disbelief for years to come. Downstream of that, we like to evaluate whether a game, a series, or even an entire postseason was a good one, mentally sorting them into tiers with other postseasons we’ve watched. Some measures of “good” are subjective, coming down to our personal preferences for certain strategies, styles of play, narratives, teams, or players. Other measures are more universally agreed upon and objectively quantifiable. In particular, most neutral observers value a close, exciting game, one that features both tension and action to keep observers engaged.

Win Probability Added (WPA) provides a reasonable proxy for measuring both tension and excitement. At the plate appearance level, it uses the score, inning, and base-out state (i.e. runner on second, two outs) to calculate a team’s win expectancy based on historical outcomes. The difference in a team’s win expectancy after a plate appearance relative to what it was before it represents the WPA during the plate appearance in question. WPA will be negative for the team whose odds of winning decreased while being positive for their opponent, but in this context, we’re going to focus on the magnitude of the change in win expectancy. Without a rooting interest, it’s less about which team wins and more about seeing big plays that impact the outcome of the game. Games with a large quantity of WPA have a lot of high-impact plays and lead changes that allow teams to pass win probability back and forth between one another.

Using WPA, we can evaluate the quality of the action in a given game by both looking at the average WPA per plate appearance and by adding up the game’s total WPA. Both methods provide useful insight. Average WPA per plate appearance controls for the variable number of plate appearances in a game, since games with more plate appearances have more opportunities to accumulate WPA. Sometimes that accumulation constitutes empty calories; other times it’s more substantial. Ultimately, we want the games that top the charts from both perspectives. Read the rest of this entry »

The following article is part of a series concerning the 2025 Classic Baseball Era Committee ballot, covering long-retired players, managers, executives, and umpires whose candidacies will be voted upon on December 8. It is adapted from a chapter in The Cooperstown Casebook, published in 2017 by Thomas Dunne Books. For an introduction to the ballot, see here, and for an introduction to JAWS, see here. All WAR figures refer to the Baseball-Reference version unless otherwise indicated.

“Dick Allen forced Philadelphia baseball and its fans to come to terms with the racism that existed in this city in the ’60s and ’70s. He may not have done it with the self-discipline or tact of Jackie Robinson, but he exemplified the emerging independence of major league baseball players as well as growing black consciousness.”⁠ — William Kashatus, The Philadelphia Inquirer, April 2, 1996

At first glance, Dick Allen might be viewed as the Gary Sheffield or Albert Belle of his day, a heavy hitter seemingly engaged in a constant battle with the world around him, generating controversy at every stop of his 15-year career. It’s unfair and reductive to lump Allen in with those two players, however, for they all faced different obstacles and bore different scars from the wounds they suffered early in their careers.

In Allen’s case, those wounds predated his 1963 arrival in the majors with a team that was far behind the integration curve, and a city that was in no better shape. In Philadelphia and beyond, he was a polarizing presence, covered by a media contingent so unable or unwilling to relate to him that writers often refused to call him by the name of his choosing: Dick Allen, not Richie. Read the rest of this entry »

When I talked to him at last year’s GM meetings, J.J. Picollo told me that an offseason priority was to add “guys with experience” to a Kansas City Royals roster that was long on promising young talent but short on veteran presence. Picollo did just that — Seth Lugo, Hunter Renfroe, Will Smith, and Michael Wacha were among those brought on board — and while the additions only told part of the story, the end result was a best seller. One year after winning just 56 games, the 2024 Royals went 86-76 and played October baseball for the first time in a decade.

What does the AL Central club’s Executive Vice President/General Manager see as the top priority going into next season?

“We need to be a little more dynamic offensively, and by that I mean we need to get on base at a higher rate than we did this year,” Picollo told me earlier this week in San Antonio. “We’re trying to target players we can lengthen out our lineup with, whether it’s someone at the top, in the middle, or toward the back end. Our identity is more pitching and defense, base running, and situational hitting, so how can we add some guys that can complement what we already have that will allow us to score more runs?”

The Royals crossed the plate 735 times in 2024, the sixth-highest total in the American League. Their .306 on-base percentage was ninth-highest, while their .403 slugging percentage and their 170 home runs ranked sixth and tenth respectively. As power obviously helps provide more runs, I asked Picollo if OBP is indeed the priority. Read the rest of this entry »

Welcome to the offseason. As is customary, FanGraphs’ annual top 50 free agent rankings come following the World Series. In recent years, we’ve rotated through the writers principally responsible for the list – first Dave Cameron, then Kiley McDaniel, Craig Edwards, and, more recently, me. I’m back this year and I’ve brought help: the FanGraphs staff contributed mightily to this piece.

Below, I’ve provided contract estimates and rankings of the winter’s top free agents, along with market-focused breakdowns for the top 25 players. That could be a quick discussion of where a player might sign, what a team might look for, or even statistical analysis masquerading as market analysis – what can I say, I like analyzing players. Meanwhile, a combination of Davy Andrews, Michael Baumann, Jay Jaffe, David Laurila, Eric Longenhagen, Leo Morgenstern, Kiri Oler, Esteban Rivera, Michael Rosen, and Dan Szymborski supplied player-focused breakdowns, which are designed to provide some context for each player at this moment in his career. Special thanks to David Appelman, Jon Becker, Sean Dolinar, Jason Martinez, and Meg Rowley for their help behind the scenes.

The players are ranked in the order in which I prefer them. That’s often the same as ranking them in contract order, but not always. In some cases, I prefer a player I expect will get less money over one who stands to make more. I’ll generally make note of that in the accompanying comment, but just to reiterate, this list isn’t exclusively sorted by descending average annual value or anything like that. Read the rest of this entry »

Bryce Eldridge is the top prospect in the San Francisco Giants system thanks largely to the lethality of his power-packed left-handed stroke, an enviable asset that he augments with a patient approach. Drafted 16th overall in 2023 out of Vienna, Virginia’s James Madison High School, the 6-foot-7 first baseman projects, in the words of Eric Longenhagen, as “a middle-of-the-order force.”

What he accomplished in his first full professional season suggests that our lead prospect analyst’s assessment was spot-on. Beginning the year in Low-A and ending it in Triple-A, Eldridge slashed .289/.372/.513 with 23 home runs and a 137 wRC+ over 519 plate appearances. Moreover, he put up those numbers as a teenager. Eldridge didn’t turn 20 until mid-October.

That he was drafted as a two-way player is part of his story. While he hasn’t toed the rubber in a game since receiving his just-shy-of $4M signing bonus, the possibility of his playing both ways was certainly there. (Longenhagen was bearish on the idea, opining in his post-draft recap that the “two-way experiment should eventually lead him to full-time hitting.”)

His potential as a pitcher was the first subject I broached when speaking to Edington at the Arizona Fall League, where he is suiting up for the Scottsdale Scorpions. Why is he now a hitter only? Read the rest of this entry »

It’s not hard to remember who had the biggest hits of the postseason, nor is it hard to remember which superstar sluggers came up short. But what about the components of offense that don’t take place at the plate? This past October had no shortage of riveting plays on the basepaths, so I thought it would be fun to look back at some of the most skillful baserunning, some of the least skillful baserunning, and either way, some of the most consequential baserunning plays of the 2024 playoffs.

To calculate baserunning value, the bright minds at Baseball Savant have developed a system that estimates runs above or below average for 10 different categories of “advance opportunities” on balls in play. There is certainly room for disagreement with the way the automatic system evaluates plays, but these numbers are a great jumping-off point. That’s especially true when it comes to bad plays, for which there is a clear delineation between the most harmful baserunning decisions and more forgivable mistakes.

Six runners ran into an out that cost their team 0.80 runs or more this postseason. No other baserunning play scored worse than -0.20 runner runs. Here’s a chart and a video compilation of those six disastrous decisions. I’ve also included Savant’s seventh-most detrimental baserunning play of the postseason for comparison:

The decisions by Bohm and Malloy to try for second, as well as third base coach Luis Rojas’ choice to wave Torres home, were all varying degrees of justifiable. That’s not to say any of them were smart plays, but it’s important to remember that getting thrown out doesn’t necessarily mean a baserunner made a mistake. A player who never gets thrown out on the bases isn’t taking enough risks.

Stanton’s out at home is at the top of the list for a reason. It was tough to watch him lumbering down the third base line in the moment, and it’s even harder to watch in hindsight when I know the outcome. It makes me feel like I’m watching a horror movie, but instead of wanting to scream at Stanton to stay out of the basement, I want to tell him to hold up no matter what Rojas was signaling. I could say the same of Perez, who is every bit as slow as Stanton. Juan Soto made a terrific throw, but all the same, third base coach Vance Wilson had no business sending Perez on that play. As for the inelegant slide into home, that’s all on Perez.

That being said, I hesitate to call either of those plays the worst example of baserunning in the postseason. For one thing, it’s clear from the clips that their coaches were more to blame. What’s more, it would be pretty boring of me to pick one of the biggest, slowest players in the game as the culprit behind the worst baserunning flub of October. So that brings me to Winker in Game 1 of the NLCS.

Here’s that play one more time:

By my count, Winker made three baserunning blunders in a very short time. His first mistake was taking too far of a turn around second base. His second mistake was realizing his first mistake and briefly turning back toward second before changing his mind once again and continuing toward third. His third mistake was giving up far too easily. He didn’t bolt for third and try to slide under Max Muncy’s tag, nor did he force the Dodgers to run him down, which might have given Jose Iglesias a chance to reach second base. Rather than putting up a fight, he basically just admitted defeat.

The Dodgers went on to win that game 9-0. Winker’s poor baserunning was hardly the only thing that did the Mets in. Still, if he’d held up at second base, it would have been the only time in the entire game the Mets had a runner in scoring position with no outs. Instead, Winker killed what little momentum the Mets almost mustered. So, of the 513 ball-in-play baserunning events that Baseball Savant scored during the playoffs, this gets my vote as the very worst of the lot.

I also went back and watched every caught stealing and pickoff play of the postseason to find the worst bit of baserunning that didn’t come on a ball in play. None of the straight-up caught stealing plays stand out to me as particularly egregious, although I made a compilation video so you can judge for yourselves. The compilation also includes Matt Vierling getting caught at second — a play that technically wasn’t considered as a stolen base attempt, presumably because it would have been officially scored a wild pitch if he were safe:

As for the pickoffs, all four look embarrassing for the baserunners. Pickoffs almost always do. Here they are, and I apologize in advance that the clip of Trevino’s pickoff on MLB Film Room is incomplete. But it’s not like you can’t extrapolate what’s going to happen. I also included Anthony Rizzo’s TOOTBLAN is Game 2 of the ALCS. Like the Vierling play, it technically wasn’t scored as a pickoff because it started with a ball in the dirt, but it’s close enough for our purposes:

The clip of Francisco Lindor is a bad look for the typically excellent baserunner. The camera shows that Lindor misread pitcher Brent Honeywell and started to take off for second base far too soon. Honeywell made him pay. Rizzo’s rundown was embarrassing, too, although after seeing the way Winker responded in a somewhat similar situation, I’ll give Rizzo credit for making a bit more of an effort.

The very worst of all those caught stealing and pickoff plays came just before Rizzo’s slip-up. Two batters earlier, Jazz Chisholm Jr. also ran into an out at second, and this one was a proper pickoff. It was the only instance out of all the caught stealing and pickoff plays I showed you in which the runner was already safely in scoring position with no outs. There was little reason for Chisholm to take such an aggressive lead toward third base. (Apparently the Yankees were planning to attempt a double steal, but Chisholm took off too early). According to Baseball Reference WPA, Chisholm’s pickoff was the most harmful caught stealing or pickoff play of the postseason (-0.076 WPA). It was also, by far, the worst caught stealing or pickoff play by championship Win Probability Added, reducing the Yankees’ chances of winning the World Series by 1.21%. And yet, I can’t blame Chisholm too much for his aggressive leads because, as you’re about to see, he was also responsible for some of the very best baserunning plays we saw this past October.

It’s significantly harder to identify the best baserunning plays than the worst. Simply put, it’s much easier to find plays in which a runner ran into an out than to separate the best advancement decisions from more commonplace ones. A runner goes from first to third on a single almost every game; when is that good baserunning as opposed to routine execution? All this to say, there aren’t any positive baserunning plays worth upwards of 0.80 runner runs on Baseball Savant. The top three plays of the postseason each added 0.25 runs of value. The next six came in at +0.24 runs. That said, these data still offer a good jumping-off point for this exercise.

I went digging for the top 10 baserunning plays on balls in play this postseason and came back with 11 due to a tie at the bottom of the list. Here are those 11 plays in chart form:

I wasn’t blown away by any of the three plays with a +0.25 run value. All three were the result of at least one defensive miscue and none involved a competitive throw. Understanding how to take advantage of poor defense is certainly a skill, as is moving fast enough to take an extra base without the defense even bothering to make a throw. Much like how the best defenders make tough plays look routine, the best baserunners can make low-percentage advancements look easy. Still, take a look at these three clips, and I’m sure you’ll forgive me for skipping past them as I try to find the best baserunning plays of the playoffs.

I was much more impressed with a few of the plays that had a +0.24 and +0.23 run value. But let’s start with the five that didn’t turn my head. Lindor made a nice slide to secure a double in Game 2 of the Wild Card Series, but he was only safe because Turang couldn’t hold onto the ball to apply the tag. Meanwhile, Stott bolted his way to an RBI triple in Game 2 of the NLDS, but everyone was safe without a competitive throw.

Moving on to the NLCS, Ohtani scored from first on a Mookie Betts double in Game 1, but he did so without a throw. Indeed, the Mets pretty clearly knew he was going to score well before the ball landed in the cutoff man’s glove. Then, in Game 4 of the NLCS, Marte doubled because Betts badly misread a groundball to right field. Finally, Volpe earned 0.23 runs of baserunning credit for a double in the World Series, but he would have been out if Lux hadn’t lost the baseball. Here’s a compilation of those five plays for your viewing pleasure:

Now, let’s get to the three plays I really liked. Back in the NLDS, Lux made a great read on an Enrique Hernández single to shallow center and sprinted from first to third, beating Jackson Merrill’s throw. Meadows also made a terrific read on a pop fly in the ALDS, turning what could have been a routine out into a double. Here’s what those two plays looked like:

However, of these 11 baserunning plays, one clearly stood above the rest. Here is Chisholm scoring from second on an Alex Verdugo single in all its glory:

This was terrific television from start to end. The mind games going on between Chisholm and Michael Lorenzen were almost palpable. The footwork dance battle between Chisholm and Bobby Witt Jr. was delightful. Chisholm’s decision not to slide could have been disastrous, but instead it worked out perfectly (although the home plate umpire might disagree). And the greater context of the game only makes the play more thrilling. Chisholm was only at second base because of a controversial safe call on a stolen base earlier in the inning. The umpire on the field called him safe. The umpires in New York found the replay evidence inconclusive, even though it seemed pretty clear to the average viewer that Chisholm was out. While a less courageous baserunner might have exercised more caution after surviving by the skin of his teeth, Chisholm remained aggressive. It paid off.

According to Baseball Reference WPA, Verdugo’s single was the 10th most valuable ball in play (i.e. non-homer) of the postseason. A few of those nine other plays involved good baserunning, but there were none, I’d argue, in which good baserunning was quite as essential to the shift in win probability. Take a look for yourself. (Side note: While putting this compilation together, I learned that MLB film room won’t let you make a video with the word “balls” in the title. Seems like a design flaw.)

So, Chisholm gets my vote for the best ball-in-play baserunning play of the postseason. And that’s not all. He also provided the two most consequential stolen bases of the postseason, according to Baseball Reference WPA and cWPA. Not only that, but those two stolen bases came three pitches apart in the top of the 10th inning of Game 1 of the World Series. Another three pitches later, he scored what would have been the winning run if not for Freddie Freeman’s walk-off grand slam. Even without a compilation video of the other 60 stolen bases this October, I feel confident giving Chisholm the crown for the best stolen base sequence of the playoffs. Here’s a look at the complete series of events:

None of the plays I wrote about today will be remembered for nearly as long as Freeman’s big hits, Gerrit Cole’s valiant efforts, or the poor defense that ultimately sunk the Yankees in Game 5. But I love writing about baserunning precisely because it gets far less attention than most other aspects of the game. I’m glad I had the chance to look back on all this action on the basepaths before we all turn our attention to the offseason ahead.

NEW YORK — By closing out the Yankees with an unexpected World Series-clinching save two days after his brilliant Game 3 start put the Dodgers on the brink of a title, Walker Buehler had made a statement. Now, speaking to Fox Sports’ Ken Rosenthal and millions of viewers moments after striking out Alex Verdugo on a knuckle curve in the dirt, he had a message: “For our organization, we deserve this. We’ve been playing really good baseball for a lot of years. Everyone talks shit about 2020 and whatever, but there’s not much they can say about it now.”

Buehler was referring to the way that the Dodgers’ streak of 12 consecutive playoff appearances, which includes 11 NL West flags and three previous pennants, had been downplayed by some critics because the team not only had won only one championship during that epic run, but also because its lone title had followed the pandemic-shortened 2020 season. For many of the dozen core members who have remained with the team since (or in Enrique Hernández’s case, returned after a stint elsewhere), the application of that asterisk chafed.

“Get that Mickey Mouse shit out of your mouth,” said a champagne-and-beer-soaked Max Muncy during the ensuing clubhouse celebration, referring to the slight. “Now it’s two [championships], baby. Now it’s two… What are you going to say now?” Read the rest of this entry »

Since the start of 2013, the Dodgers have been the best team in baseball. Over that 12-season span, they’ve won the National League West 11 times, made it to the NLCS seven times, and made it to the World Series four times. Their 1,215 regular season wins are 95 more than the team in second place, and their 64 postseason wins are also the most in the game. Despite all that, until late Wednesday night, they’d only managed one championship. What deserves to go down as one of the most impressive dynasties in the history of the game has been consistently denied that sort of recognition because of the delightful, infuriating unpredictability of playoff baseball. During an absolutely wild World Series Game 5, that unpredictability finally worked in the Dodgers’ favor.

This paragraph is just a list of things that happened during Game 5, so hold on tight. There was a brief no-hit bid from one starter and a disastrous, abortive start from the other. There were monster home runs, broken bat singles, seeing-eye grounders, great defensive plays, calamitous errors, inexcusable mental mistakes, a five-run inning, a five-run comeback, unearned runs, nearly catastrophic baserunning decisions, a catcher’s interference, a disengagement penalty, a surprisingly high number of sacrifice flies, a starter coming in to get the save on one-day’s rest, and, I’m absolutely certain, a bunch of other stuff that I’m too fried to remember. The only thing that didn’t happen, thankfully, was two ding dongs grabbing Mookie Betts. In the end, the Dodgers were the team left standing, securing a 7-6 victory over the Yankees at Yankee Stadium for their eighth World Series title in franchise history and the second in the past five years. Read the rest of this entry »