ARLINGTON, Texas — You have to start with the question: Do you think a coach should be eligible for the Hall of Fame?
The Hall thinks so little of the idea that coaches technically cannot even make the ballot; neither can scouts. The Veterans Committee can consider players who have fallen off the standard ballot, executives, managers and umpires.
Under the loosest interpretation of executive, you might be able to pigeonhole, say, a pitching coach for consideration. Except no coach has made it to the discussion. Which is absurd.
How are umpires more pertinent to the history of the game? At their best, you are not even supposed to notice them. Yet there are nine in the Hall of Fame. No knock on, say, Doug Harvey, but how is his baseball life more distinguished than that of Dave Duncan?
OK, so here we are now. To the point. To Dave Duncan.
“To think a coach is going to get in under the current guidelines is probably not realistic,” said John Thorn, the major leagues’ official historian. “A [coaching] candidate is going to be needed that forces [the Hall] to change its rules. And I can think of no one more compelling to force that argument than Duncan.”
Duncan’s reputation has been established as a pitching coach for manager Tony La Russa with the White Sox, A’s and now the Cardinals: He takes reclamation projects and turns them into assets. Two — Bob Welch and Dennis Eckersley — won Cy Youngs with the A’s and another castoff who came to Oakland, Dave Stewart, won 20 games four straight years. He has been the pitching coach for four Cy Young winners (LaMarr Hoyt and Chris Carpenter, too).
The 2011 Cardinals lost their ace, Adam Wainwright, for the season to Tommy John surgery and their closer, Ryan Franklin, during the season to ineffectiveness. Yet here they are in the World Series with a pitching staff that on paper looks like Carpenter and pray for rain, but is excelling. Relievers such as Octavio Dotel and Marc Rzepczynski suddenly are pitching as well — or better — than ever.
“Everything he says makes sense. He is a totally calming influence,” Eckersley said by phone. “He is a former catcher, and he is like having the best veteran catcher who always gets you right on point and to focus because he knows the league and your stuff so well.”
Duncan loves sinkers, working to contact to use the defense and throwing strike one. It is philosophically similar to most pitching coaches. But his success in multiple places with a variety of pitchers strongly indicates an ability to sell it. Why?
There is his work ethic. Pitchers rave about how he is constantly studying video and charts — in the clubhouse, on the team plane — to devise plans on how to use your stuff against each hitter’s flaws. His style is to-the-point brevity.
“He is not a great conversationalist,” Jason Isringhausen, who pitched in St. Louis for Duncan from 2002-08, said by phone. “You ask a question. You get an answer. What he says means something. He is the E.F. Hutton of baseball: When he talks, you better listen.”
He also has the utter support of La Russa, who leaves the pitching completely to Duncan. Pitchers know if they disrespect Duncan they are disrespecting the authoritative La Russa. Of course, Duncan is known as a tough guy, as well. Never more so than now. His wife, Jeanine, underwent surgery for a brain tumor in mid-August, and Duncan missed most of the final six weeks of the season before returning for the playoffs.
His son, former Yankee Shelley, reported by phone that his mom is feeling better, but that her condition could impact the working future of a man Shelley called “a baseball lifer.” Duncan, 66, is signed through a 2013 option. Whenever he exits, he will become a Hall test case.
Shelley said his father probably would never stump for the honor, but explained, “It would touch him in a way that no other recognition could ever touch him.”
If Duncan can simply get by the gatekeepers to be considered by the 16-member Veterans Committee, his chances will go way up. Tom Seaver, who pitched for Duncan with the White Sox and remains a dear friend, is a powerful voice within the Hall. Also more and more of the living Hall members have either played for Duncan, like Eckersley, or competed against his teams.
“If he can’t get into the Hall, which coach can?” Eckersley said. “He has my vote for the Hall of Fame.”
Ring would burnish these Hall resumes
There are two no-brainer Hall of Famers in this World Series: Albert Pujols and Tony La Russa. Dave Duncan might be the next closest to consideration.
However, there are three players who should — at the very least — appear on the ballot five years after their careers end and whose candidacies would be enhanced by being a key player on a champion:
LANCE BERKMAN: He had no chance without a second act. But he was the 2011 NL Comeback Player of the Year. A few more seasons like this one and his case becomes more intriguing.
As members of the sabermetric community become a larger piece of the voting bloc, he will be helped because, for example, his .954 OPS is currently 19th-best all-time. He is a six-time All-Star with five top-seven MVP finishes. He has a real shot at 500 doubles and 400 homers, and the the 17 players who have reached those levels are either in the Hall, will be in the Hall (like Ken Griffey Jr.) or only won’t be in the Hall because of a steroid tie (like Manny Ramirez). And the strong perception is that Berkman has been a clean player.
ADRIAN BELTRE: The initial reaction is no way, he is more Buddy Bell or Graig Nettles — power-hitting third basemen with elite defense who do not pass the Cooperstown test — than a Hall of Famer. He has been in just two All-Star Games and received MVP votes just twice, including a second-place finish in 2004. But third base is a very under-represented position in the Hall.
Beltre is just 32. His last two years were his best beyond 2004. He was the youngest third baseman to 2,000 hits, and he has 310 homers. No third baseman has ever reached 2,500 and 400, and Beltre has a shot. Despite a lack of Gold Gloves, Beltre has the rep as a historically good fielder.
MICHAEL YOUNG: His candidacy will be about hits, his pursuit of 3,000. He’s at 2,061 and has six seasons of 200 hits. But even if he gets to 3,000, he might not get in.
He will be hurt by the changeover to a voting bloc that is not as enamored with hit totals as on-base skills and power — areas where Young is less stellar. He also will lose points for playing the duration of his career in a hitter’s park. If he stayed at shortstop, Young’s numbers would look better. He is a seven-time All-Star. But, for now, his candidacy looks more like those of Bill Madlock or Steve Garvey than a strong Hall contender.