DALLAS — The collision of human mortality and baseball immortality is a jarring one that has resonated throughout the history of the National Baseball Hall of Fame, and Sunday night’s announcement of the voting results of the Classic Baseball Era Committee was yet another reminder. Four years after dying of cancer at the age of 78, and three years after falling one vote short for his second straight ballot, Dick Allen finally gained entry. Also elected was 73-year-old Dave Parker, who has been rendered frail while waging a very public battle with Parkinson’s Disease in recent years.

The two sluggers were the only candidates from among a slate of eight elected by the 16-member committee, which met on Sunday at the Winter Meetings here in Dallas. The panel was charged with considering candidates from an overly broad swath of the game’s history. By definition, all eight candidates made their greatest impact prior to 1980, but weighing the merits of John Donaldson, who pitched in the major Negro Leagues from 1920–24 (and for Black baseball teams predating the Negro Leagues as early as 1915), against the likes of Parker, whose major league career ran from 1973–91, is a nearly impossible task, particularly within the limitations of a format that allows each voter to choose a maximum of three candidates from among the eight.

Parker, who had fallen short on three previous Era Committee ballots, received the most support from the panel, totaling 14 votes out of 16 (87.5%), while Allen received 13 (81.3%). Tommy John received seven (43.8%) in his fifth Era Committee appearance. The other five candidates — Ken Boyer, Donaldson, Steve Garvey, Vic Harris, Luis Tiant — each received less than five votes, according to the Hall.

To these eyes, Allen was the most deserving of the non-Negro Leagues candidates on this ballot. In a 15-year-career with the Phillies (1963–69, ’75–76), Cardinals (’70), Dodgers (’71), White Sox (’72–74), and A’s (’77), he made seven All-Star teams; led his league in OPS+ three times, in home runs twice, and in WAR once; and won NL Rookie of the Year and AL MVP awards (’64 and ’72, respectively) while hitting 351 homers and batting .292/.378/.534. Among players with at least 7,000 plate appearances, his career 156 OPS+ is tied with Hall of Famer Frank Thomas for 14th all time.

Allen accrued just 1,848 hits, and so he joins 2022 Golden Days honoree Tony Oliva as the only post-1960 expansion era players in the Hall with fewer than 2,000 hits. The marker has served as a proxy for career length, for better or worse, and in doing so has frozen out players whose careers were shortened for one reason or another, as well as those who built a good portion of their value via on-base skills and defense. BBWAA voters have yet to elect one such player, though Andruw Jones (1,933) is climbing toward 75%, and Chase Utley (1,885) made a solid debut on the 2024 ballot.

Not a particularly adept defender, Allen bounced from third base to left field to first base while traveling around the majors. He accrued his most value while playing third; he’s 17th in both WAR (58.7) and JAWS (52.3) at the position, slightly below Boyer (62.8 WAR, 54.5 JAWS), who had the advantage of a much less controversial career.

Allen’s career was shortened by what seemed to be a constant battle with the world around him, one in which the racism he faced in the minor leagues and in Philadelphia played a major role. Six years after governor Orval Faubus called in the Arkansas National Guard in order to prevent the court-ordered desegregation of Little Rock Central High School, the Phillies sent the 21-year-old Allen to become the first affiliated Black professional baseball player in the state. Faubus himself threw out the first pitch while picketers carried signs with slogans such as “Don’t Negro-ize baseball” and “N***** go home.”⁠ Though Allen hit a double in the game-winning rally, he was greeted with a note on his car: “DON’T COME BACK AGAIN N*****,”⁠ as he recounted in his autobiography, Crash: The Life and Times of Dick Allen.

The Phillies themselves — the NL’s last team to integrate, 10 years after Jackie Robinson debuted — were far behind the integration curve, as was Philadelphia itself. Allen quickly became 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.

Allen rebelled against his surroundings. As biographer Mitchell Nathanson wrote in God Almighty Hisself: The Life and Legacy of Dick Allen, “He refused to pander to the media, refused to accept management’s time-honored methods for determining the value of a ballplayer, and, most explosively, refused to go along with and kowtow to the racial double standard that had evolved within Major League Baseball in the wake of the game’s integration in 1947.”

Allen struggled for support during his 1983–97 run on the BBWAA ballot, never reaching 20%, and he similarly lagged in the voting of the expanded Veterans Committee from 2003–09. However, thanks in part to a grassroots campaign by former Phillies groundskeeper Mark Carfagno, he received a fresh look from the 2015 Golden Era Committee and fell just one vote short of election. The change in Era Committee formats meant that his case wasn’t scheduled to be reconsidered until the 2021 Golden Day Era Committee ballot, but the COVID-19 pandemic led the Hall to postpone that election. In a cruel blow, Allen died of cancer on December 7, 2020, one day after his candidacy would have been considered. Crueler still for his family, he again fell one vote short when the committee finally met in December 2021. Thus his election is a bittersweet moment, one that would have been greatly enriched by his being able to enjoy it.

Whatever quibbles there are to be had with the election of Parker, we can be grateful he’s still around to savor it. A five-tool player whose power, ability to hit for average, and strong, accurate throwing arm all stood out, he spent 19 years in the majors with the Pirates (1973–83), hometown Reds (’84–87), A’s (’88–89), Brewers (’90), Angels (’91), and Blue Jays (’91). He hit 339 homers and collected 2,712 hits while batting .290/.339/.471 (121 OPS+) and making seven All-Star teams, and at his peak, he was considered the game’s best all-around player. In his first five full seasons (1975-79), he amassed a World Series ring (in the last of those years), regular season and All-Star MVP awards, two batting titles, two league leads in slugging percentage, and three Gold Gloves, not to mention tremendous swagger and a great nickname (“The Cobra”).

A 14th-round draft pick out of Cincinnati’s Courier Tech High School — he fell from the first or second round due to multiple knee injuries that ended his pursuit of football, his favorite sport — Parker debuted with the Pirates in July 1973, just seven months after the death of Roberto Clemente. He assumed full-time duty as the team’s right fielder a season and a half later, and appeared to be on course to join the Puerto Rican legend in Cooperstown, but cocaine, poor conditioning, and injuries threw him off course. While he recovered well enough to make three more All-Star teams, play a supporting role on the 1989 World Series-winning A’s, and compile hefty career totals while playing past the age of 40, his game lost multiple dimensions along the way.

Parker debuted with just 17.5% on the 1997 BBWAA ballot and peaked at 24.5% the next year, but only one other time in his final 13 seasons of eligibility did he top 20%. In appearances on the 2014 Expansion Era ballot and ’18 and ’20 Modern Baseball ones, only in the last of those did he break out of the “received less than X votes” group; he got seven (43.8%) that year.

Because his defense declined to the point that he was relegated to DH duty, Parker ranks just 41st in JAWS among right fielders (38.8), 17.9 points below the standard. Still, this is not Harold Baines Redux. While Baines collected 2,866 hits — and might have reached 3,000 if not for the two players’ strikes that occurred during his career — he never put up much black ink or finished higher than ninth in MVP voting, spent the vast majority of his career as a DH, and ranks 77th in JAWS among right fielders (30.1). He was never close to being considered the best hitter in the game, let alone the best all-around player. His 2019 election was a shock, and a result that felt engineered given the makeup of the panel.

As I noted in my write-up of Parker, the contemporary whose case bears the most resemblance to his is that of Dale Murphy, for as different as the two were off the field — and you can’t get much further apart than the distance between Parker’s drug-related misadventures and Murphy’s wholesome, milk-drinking persona. A two-time MVP, Murphy — who fell short on the 2023 Contemporary Baseball ballot and will be eligible again next year — had a peak that’s vaguely Hall-caliber, but he’s ranks 27th in JAWS among center fielders, 14.4 points below the standard, because myriad injuries prevented him from having much value outside that peak.

I had Allen atop my list as the most deserving non-PED-linked position player outside the Hall. While I was lukewarm on Parker, it’s impossible not to feel some amount of empathy for his hard-won wisdom — his autobiography Cobra: A Life in Baseball and Brotherhood, written with Dave Jordan, is frank and poignant — and his battle with Parkinson’s, not to mention his prominent role in raising money to fight the disease. Again, it is far better that he is alive to enjoy this honor than to have it granted posthumously, as would have been the case for Tiant, who died in October at age 83. Boyer died in 1983 at age 52. John is 81, Garvey 75. For as tiresome as it may sometimes feel to see their candidacies reheated every three years or so, one can understand the desire to honor them while they’re alive — but then again, the same goes for the candidates they’re crowding off the ballot.

The most frustrating aspect of this election is how little traction the two Negro Leagues candidates had, as they were the top returning members from the 2022 Early Baseball ballot, with Harris — the most successful manager in Negro Leagues history — having received 10 votes (62.5%) and Donaldson — a legendary pitcher who spent most of his playing years barnstorming endlessly out of economic necessity — getting eight (50%). The 16-member panel did include two bona fide Negro Leagues scholars in Larry Lester and Leslie Heaphy. However, in my opinion and those of many Negro Leagues experts, it would be far better for a full panel of such researchers and scholars to consider these candidates and the unique and difficult context of their careers without having to battle for attention and space with much more famous players from a relatively recent past.

Appointed by the Hall’s board of directors, this ballot’s 16-member committee consisted of Hall of Famers Paul Molitor, Eddie Murray, Tony Perez, Lee Smith, Ozzie Smith, and Joe Torre; major league executives Sandy Alderson, Terry McGuirk, Dayton Moore, Arte Moreno, and Brian Sabean; and veteran media members/historians Bob Elliott, Steve Hirdt, and Dick Kaegel as well as Heaphy and Lester. In contrast to years past, this group had far fewer obvious connections to candidates, with Torre having played with Allen in St. Louis in 1970, Alderson serving as the general manager of the A’s when they traded for John in mid-’85 and Parker in December ’87, and Sabean in the scouting department of the Yankees when John had his second go-round with the team starting in ’86. [Update: As readers have pointed out, I missed that Perez and Parker were teammates in Cincinnati from 1984–86, and Molitor and Parker were teammates in Milwaukee in ’90.] Where both the 2023 and ’24 Contemporary Era Committees (the latter for managers, executives, and umpires) had just three media members/historians, this one had five.

The Era Committee process is an imperfect one, and by some measures these were imperfect candidates. If they weren’t, they probably wouldn’t have been relegated to Era Committee ballots in the first place, though not necessarily through their own fault. The voting results won’t please everyone, but hopefully even critics of the process can see some value in Sunday’s result.

The following article is part of Jay Jaffe’s ongoing look at the candidates on the BBWAA 2025 Hall of Fame ballot. Originally written for the 2020 election, it has been updated to reflect recent voting results as well as additional research. For a detailed introduction to this year’s ballot, and other candidates in the series, use the tool above; an introduction to JAWS can be found here. For a tentative schedule and a chance to fill out a Hall of Fame ballot for our crowdsourcing project, see here. All WAR figures refer to the Baseball-Reference version unless otherwise indicated.

Bobby Abreu could do just about everything. A five-tool player with dazzling speed, a sweet left-handed stroke, and enough power to win a Home Run Derby, he was also one of the game’s most patient, disciplined hitters, able to wear down a pitcher and unafraid to hit with two strikes. While routinely reaching the traditional seasonal plateaus that tend to get noticed — a .300 batting average (six times), 20 homers (nine times), 30 steals (six times), 100 runs scored and batted in (eight times apiece) — he was nonetheless a stathead favorite for his ability to take a walk (100 or more eight years in a row) and his high on-base percentages (.400 or better eight times). And he was durable, playing 151 games or more in 13 straight seasons. “To me, Bobby’s Tony Gwynn with power,” said Phillies hitting coach Hal McRae in 1999.

“Bobby was way ahead of his time [with] regards to working pitchers,” said his former manager Larry Bowa when presenting him for induction into the Phillies Wall of Fame in 2019. “In an era when guys were swinging for the fences, Bobby never strayed from his game. Because of his speed, a walk would turn into a double. He was cool under pressure, and always in control of his at-bats. He was the best combination of power, speed, and patience at the plate.” Read the rest of this entry »

It’s a bit of a cliché that all-time great basketball players like to add an element to their game every offseason. You come back from summer vacation and Tim Duncan has a new post move or LeBron’s shooting three-pointers now. This truism informs something I like to ask baseball players during breakout seasons: Do you have an eye on the next thing you want to learn? Sometimes you get some banality about being more consistent, or just an outright “no,” but on occasion a pitcher will reveal a hitherto hidden desire to learn a palmball, so it’s worth asking.

Nobody has embodied this drive for self-improvement like Shohei Ohtani. The man who already does everything showed up at the start of 2024 and decided to turn his plus running speed from a curiosity into a weapon. Shotime had previously topped out in the 20-steal range, and usually with pretty ugly success rates. In 2022, he needed 20 attempts to swipe just 11 bags; that year, he also stole the George Springer Trophy for Most Mystifyingly Bad Basestealer for a Fast Guy. Read the rest of this entry »

The following article is part of Jay Jaffe’s ongoing look at the candidates on the BBWAA 2025 Hall of Fame ballot. It was initially written for The Cooperstown Casebook, published in 2017 by Thomas Dunne Books, and subsequently adapted for SI.com and then FanGraphs. For a detailed introduction to this year’s ballot, and other candidates in the series, use the tool above; an introduction to JAWS can be found here. For a tentative schedule and a chance to fill out a Hall of Fame ballot for our crowdsourcing project, see here. All WAR figures refer to the Baseball-Reference version unless otherwise indicated.

It happened so quickly. Freshly anointed the game’s top prospect by Baseball America in the spring of 1996, the soon-to-be-19-year-old Andruw Jones was sent to play for the Durham Bulls, the Braves’ High-A affiliate. By mid-August, he blazed through the Carolina League, the Double-A Southern League, and the Triple-A International League, then debuted for the defending world champions. By October 20, with just 31 regular-season games under his belt, he was a household name, having become the youngest player ever to homer in a World Series game, breaking Mickey Mantle’s record — and doing so twice at Yankee Stadium to boot.

Jones was no flash in the pan. The Braves didn’t win the 1996 World Series, and he didn’t win the ’97 NL Rookie of the Year award, but along with Chipper Jones (no relation) and the big three of Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine, and John Smoltz, he became a pillar of a franchise that won a remarkable 14 division titles from 1991 to 2005 (all but the 1994 strike season, with ’91–93 in the NL West and ’95–05 in the revamped NL East). From 1998 to 2007, Jones won 10 straight Gold Gloves, more than any center fielder except Willie Mays. Read the rest of this entry »

The following article is part of Jay Jaffe’s ongoing look at the candidates on the BBWAA 2025 Hall of Fame ballot. For a detailed introduction to this year’s ballot, and other candidates in the series, use the tool above; an introduction to JAWS can be found here. For a tentative schedule and a chance to fill out a Hall of Fame ballot for our crowdsourcing project, see here. All WAR figures refer to the Baseball-Reference version unless otherwise indicated.

When the Phillies returned to contention following a slide into irrelevance in the wake of their 1993 National League pennant, shortstop Jimmy Rollins, first baseman Ryan Howard, and lefty Cole Hamels gained most of the attention. Howard all but ran Jim Thome out of town after the latter was injured in 2005, then mashed a major league-high 58 homers in ’06 en route to NL MVP honors. Rollins, the emotional center of the team, carried himself with a swagger and declared the Phillies “the team to beat” at the outset of 2007, then won the MVP award when the team followed through with a division title. Hamels debuted in 2006 and became their ace while making his first All-Star team the next season. In the middle of all that, as part of the nucleus that would help the Phillies win five straight NL East titles from 2007–11, with a championship in ’08 and another pennant in ’09, Chase Utley was as good or better than any of them, though the second baseman hardly called attention to himself.

Indeed, Utley seemed to shun the spotlight, playing the game with a quiet intensity that bordered on asceticism. He sped around the bases after hitting home runs, then reluctantly accepted high-fives in the dugout. “I am having fun,” he told the Philadelphia Inquirer’s Andy Martino in 2009. “When I’m on the baseball field, that’s where I love to be. I’m not joking around and smiling. That competition, that heat-of-the-battle intensity, that’s how I have fun.” Read the rest of this entry »

It’s always nice when something works out perfectly, right away. At the trade deadline, the Dodgers insinuated themselves into a three-way deal with the White Sox and Cardinals, acquiring Michael Kopech and Tommy Edman in exchange for infielder Miguel Vargas and a smattering of minor leaguers. Edman, who hadn’t played an inning all year to that point because of a wrist injury, was of little use to the Cardinals and zero use to the White Sox, so Los Angeles was able to acquire him on the cheap.

The wrist healed; the former Stanford standout debuted in late August, posted a 98 wRC+ in 37 regular-season games, then played every inning of the Dodgers’ successful World Series run. He started games at both center field and shortstop, hit .328/.354/.508 with five stolen bases in 16 appearances, and went home with NLCS MVP honors.

So you’d understand why both sides would want to run it back. On Friday night, the Dodgers announced that they and the 29-year-old Edman had agreed to a contract extension. This five-year, $72 million deal supersedes the final year of Edman’s previous two-year contract, worth $9.5 million. Should this partnership continue to bear fruit through the end of the decade, the Dodgers have a $13 million club option for 2030 as well. Read the rest of this entry »

The following article is part of Jay Jaffe’s ongoing look at the candidates on the BBWAA 2024 Hall of Fame ballot. For a detailed introduction to this year’s ballot, and other candidates in the series, use the tool above; an introduction to JAWS can be found here. For a tentative schedule and a chance to fill out a Hall of Fame ballot for our crowdsourcing project, see here. All WAR figures refer to the Baseball-Reference version unless otherwise indicated.

For the past few election cycles, as a means of completing my coverage of the major candidates before the December 31 voting deadline, I’ve been grouping together some candidates into a single overview, inviting readers wishing to (re)familiarize themselves with the specifics of their cases to check out older profiles that don’t require a full re-working, because very little has changed, even with regards to their voting shares. Today, I offer the first such batch for this cycle, a pair of elite hitters who would already be enshrined if not for their links to performance-enhancing drugs: Manny Ramirez and Alex Rodriguez.

Like Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, both sluggers have transgressions that predate the introduction of drug testing and penalties in 2004. Via The New York Times (Ramirez) and Sports Illustrated (Rodriguez), both reportedly failed the supposedly anonymous 2003 survey test that determined whether such testing would be introduced. Had they not pressed their luck further, both might already be in Cooperstown alongside 2022 honoree David Ortiz, who also reportedly failed the survey test. Alas, Ramirez was actually suspended twice, in 2009 and ’11; the latter ended his major league career, though he traveled the globe making comeback attempts. Rodriguez was suspended only once, but it was for the entire 2014 season due to his involvement in the Biogenesis scandal and his scorched-earth attempt to evade punishment — a sequence of events unparalleled among baseball’s PED-linked players.

As I’ve noted more times than I can count over the past decade and a half, my own policy with regards to such candidates is to differentiate between pre-2004 transgressions and the rest; while I included the likes of Bonds, Clemens, Gary Sheffield, and Sammy Sosa on my virtual and actual ballots, I have yet to do so for any player who earned a suspension for PEDs, including this pair — two players who at their best were a thrill to watch, but who also did some of the most cringeworthy stuff of any players in their era. They and the other suspended players were well aware of the consequences for crossing the line, yet did so anyway. While this personal policy began as a ballot-management tool at a time when I felt more than 10 candidates were worthy of a vote, I’ve found it to be a reasonable midpoint between total agnosticism on the subject and a complete hard-line stance. My sympathies tend more towards the former group — those who refuse to play cop for MLB and the Hall, reasoning such players have not been declared ineligible à la Pete Rose — than the latter, but I respect both positions.

Anyway, Ramirez debuted with 23.8% on the 2017 ballot, didn’t surpass that mark until ’20 (28.2%), didn’t top 30% until ’23 (33.2%), and fell back a fraction of a point on the ’24 ballot (32.5%). That’s eight years to gain less than 10 percentage points, meaning that he’ll fall off the ballot after his 10th year (the 2026 ballot).

Rodriguez debuted with 34.3% in 2022, barely inched up in ’23 (35.7%), and receded slightly in ’24 (34.8%). Given that Bonds and Clemens topped out in the 65–66% range in 2022 and then were passed over by the Contemporary Baseball Era Committee the following year, nobody should be holding their breaths for either of these two to get elected anytime soon, though it will be awhile before we stop hearing about them. Read the rest of this entry »

If you’re a team in the market for a top starting pitcher this winter, cross one of the best off your holiday list. The Dodgers, a team desperately in need for dependable starting pitchers whose arms are fully connected at the shoulders and elbows, signed Blake Snell to a five-year contract worth $182 million. The deal also includes a $52 million signing bonus. Snell, one of last year’s big name free agents who signed a shorter-term deal after not getting the offer they wanted, started 20 games for the Giants in 2024, putting up a 3.12 ERA, a 2.43 FIP, and 3.1 WAR in a season that was marred by an adductor strain. Compared to last winter, when Snell’s fate went unanswered until he signed in late March, you might as well start calling him Blake Schnell. Wait, don’t do that, that’s a terrible joke even by my standards.

Left-hander Blake Snell and the Los Angeles Dodgers are in agreement on a five-year, $182 million contract, pending physical, sources tell me and @jorgecastillo. The World Series champions get the two-time Cy Young winner in the first nine-figure deal of the winter.

— Jeff Passan (@jeffpasan.bsky.social) 2024-11-27T04:00:23.933Z

One of the biggest risks a team winning the World Series faces is complacency. It’s a perfectly natural thing to feel pleased with the moves that led to your team winning a championship, but a team that believes it can mostly stand pat and run it back is planting the seeds of its own demise. Even with all the talent on their team, the Dodgers still have significant roster holes to fill this offseason, and it’s a good sign for those hoping for a repeat that less than a month after hoisting the trophy, they’ve already addressed one of those weaknesses. Whatever one thinks of Dave Roberts as a manager, it’s difficult to deny that he did a convincing job this past postseason managing a pitching staff that basically had two healthy and reliable starting pitchers. The Dodgers won the World Series despite their injury-thinned rotation, not because of it.

Now, Snell isn’t the type to give you seven or eight innings per start. Who is in 2024, really? What Snell brings to the table – outside of being a really good pitcher – is that he has a pretty solid record when it comes to injury. That’s not to say that he doesn’t get hurt. On the contrary, only twice has he made at least 30 starts in a season. However, what he has avoided are the serious injuries that cause pitchers to miss months or entire seasons. His IL stints are generally for short-term nagging ailments, frequently adductor strains. His worst elbow injury was a procedure to remove loose bodies in his elbow about five years ago, not major reconstructive surgery. The Dodgers will be happy to get their five or six innings from him 25 or so times a year.

Given what the Dodgers have faced injury-wise these last few years, that may be especially valuable to them. Bad luck has to figure into some of these injuries, but their problems in October was the downside of the approach they’ve taken toward the pitching staff in recent seasons. The Dodgers haven’t really prioritized certainty among their pitchers. Instead, they’ve depended on high-upside, high-risk guys such as Tyler Glasnow, late-era Clayton Kershaw, and any of the young flamethrowers who dominate upon arrival before blowing out their arms. For the most part, the Dodgers have made this work because they’ve kept enough of these pitchers around to put together a capable rotation of four or five pitchers at any given moment. Generally, this has proven an effective strategy for the Dodgers, but this time, they rolled snake eyes a few times in a row, and ended up in a difficult situation at the most crucial time of the year. They made it work, but they are smart enough to recognize they might not be able to thread the needle through such a narrow margin for error again.

So, what about Snell himself? Let’s run the projections for him with the Dodgers.

The Dodgers are projected as one of the absolute best teams for Snell to end up with, and ZiPS projects performance that it would value at five years, $144.2 million. That’s a bit below the actual $182 million deal he received, but then again, so is the actual contract itself! As with Shohei Ohtani, the top dollar figure becomes a bit less sexy when you consider how the deal is structured. Some of the money is deferred, to the extent that it drops the present value enough so that the deal is worth more in the neighborhood of $160 million instead.

In some respects, Snell’s 2024 season was more impressive than the 2023 campaign that earned him the second Cy Young award of his career. Snell allowed a lot of walks in 2023, but he survived it because he was excellent with runners on base. That’s the kind of thing that’s hard to sustain, but he didn’t have to in 2024, as he shaved off the extra walk per game he’d added the year before. Snell’s strikeout rate was the best of his career, and it was powered by a career best in contact percentage. Snell has been a successful starter in the majors for years, but he has more varied tools now than he did before. Most notably, his changeup has become more of a weapon against righties, especially with two strikes.

With Snell under contract, the Dodgers rotation looks something like this: Snell, Yoshinobu Yamamoto, Glasnow, and Shohei Ohtani, along with whichever one or two other starters are healthy at any given time. At least in the way-too-early ZiPS positional projections for 2025, Snell’s arrival leapfrogs the Dodgers over the Phillies, Mariners, and Braves for the top rotation in the majors, though things can change a bit depending on how your distribute the innings. And the Dodgers might not be done adding to their rotation, either. They are expected to be serious contenders to sign Roki Sasaki, and they could still bring back Kershaw on another one-year deal.

Does adding Snell fundamentally change the outlook for the Dodgers? Not really; they were always going to be a contender in 2025. However, what signing Snell does is give the Dodgers a better chance to get through the season with fewer surprises and go deep into the playoffs again. Not since the 1999-2000 Yankees a quarter century ago has a team won consecutive championships. Snell puts the Dodgers in a strong position to alter that factoid.

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.

Tommy John spent 26 seasons pitching in the majors from 1963–74 and then 1976–89, more than any player besides Nolan Ryan, but his level of fame stems as much from the year that cleaves that span as it does from his work on the mound. As the recipient of the most famous sports medicine procedure of all time, the elbow ligament replacement surgery performed by Dr. Frank Jobe in late 1974 that now bears his name, John endured an arduous year-long rehab process before returning to pitch as well as ever, a recovery that gave hope to generations of injured pitchers whose careers might otherwise have ended. Tommy John surgery has somewhat obscured the pitcher’s on-field accomplishments, however.

A sinkerballer who relied upon his command and control to limit hard contact, John didn’t overpower hitters; after his surgery, when the usage of radar guns became more widespread, his sinker — which he threw 85-90% of the time — was generally clocked in the 85-87 mph range. He paired the sinker with a curveball, or rather several curves, as he could adjust the break based upon the speed at which he threw the pitch. He was the epitome of the “crafty lefty,” so good at his vocation that he arrived on the major league scene at age 20 and made his final appearance three days after his 46th birthday. He made four All-Star teams and was a key starter on five clubs that reached the postseason and three that won pennants, though he wound up on the losing end of the World Series each time.

Thomas Edward John Jr. was born on May 22, 1943 in Terre Haute, Indiana. He cut his teeth playing sandlot ball and more organized games at Spencer F. Ball Park, a three-block square with about 10 baseball diamonds used for everything from pickup games to those of two rival high schools, Garfield and Gerstmeyer, the latter of which he attended.

At Gerstmeyer, John excelled in basketball as well as baseball, so much so that the rangy, 6-foot-3 teenager was recruited by legendary Kentucky coach Adolph Rupp, and had over 50 basketball scholarship offers but just one for baseball (few colleges gave those out in those days). When Rupp paid a visit to their household, the senior John told the coach that his son was probably going to bypass college to pursue professional baseball. As the pitcher recalled in 2015:

Rupp said, “Well, we have a pretty good baseball team down in Kentucky, and your son might even be able to make our team.” My dad never liked Rupp, but that really made him mad. He told Coach Rupp, “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.” Rupp was furious. His assistant came in and tried to smooth things over, but it didn’t matter.

On the mound, John lacked a top-notch fastball but had a major league-caliber curveball that he learned from former Phillies minor leaguer Arley Andrews, a friend of his father. He pitched to a 28-2 record in high school, and while the Cleveland Indians scout who signed him, John Schulte, expressed concern about his inability to overpower hitters, he signed him nonetheless two weeks after John graduated from Gerstmeyer in 1961 — four years before the introduction of the amateur draft. 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 »