It has never been much of a secret that the Baseball Writers Association of America's voting procedures are fatally flawed. I suppose that's what makes the seasonal awards so much fun: never-ending debate between those that don't get to vote. Each year the two important awards, Cy Young and Most Valuable Player yield plenty of discussion fodder. And often the ultimate winner raises more eyebrows than agreeing head-nods. But some years the outcome is downright baffling, calling into question just how flawed the voting process is.
For now we'll leave the Hall of Fame voting alone. In fact, I'm not ready to launch a formal attack on the seasonal awards yet, nor offer a detailed opinion on how the voting procedures should be altered. There are smarter writers that receive paychecks for being smarter writers much further along in that argument than I am. For now, I will simply indulge in the basic cornerstone that comprises the inherent nature of blogging, what any self-respecting blogger (including myself) aspires to rise above: Bitchin' and Moanin'. I hope you will indulge me nonetheless; sometimes one can learn from a well-articulated complaint. I hope so, at least, as I intend to spin this into a series. Not all of these awards-related posts will be inflammatory complaints; many will simply be brief glimpses into a given year's awards and the players that either won or came close or, in some instances, should have one. How many people can recall offhand who won the NL MVP in 1963? And how many can remember who placed fifth? More often than not, the best players of a past season are no longer household names. However, for this initial posting, we'll begin with what may be the most egregious failing of the BBWAA of all and take a look at some of the players who rounded out the vote.
MVP 1947 American League
But first, a few words on the designation Most Valuable Player. Here is the BBWAA's official stance via their website, where of course, they don't list the members:
Dear Voter:
There is no clear-cut definition of what Most Valuable means. It is up to the individual voter to decide who was the Most Valuable Player in each league to his team. The MVP need not come from a division winner or other playoff qualifier.
The rules of the voting remain the same as they were written on the first ballot in 1931:
1. Actual value of a player to his team, that is, strength of offense and defense.
2. Number of games played.
3. General character, disposition, loyalty and effort.
4. Former winners are eligible.
5. Members of the committee may vote for more than one member of a team.
You are also urged to give serious consideration to all your selections, from 1 to 10. A 10th-place vote can influence the outcome of an election. You must fill in all 10 places on your ballot. Only regular-season performances are to be taken into consideration.
Keep in mind that all players are eligible for MVP, including pitchers and designated hitters.
The first two lines are the problem: no clear-cut definition being problem #1, up to individual voter being problem #2. The latter a problem because year in and year out, several individual voters prove themselves to be fools, self-serving fools, or team-serving fools (Evan Grant's 1st place for Michael Young this year being a prime example of a team-serving fool). The former because many voters ignore the third sentence and continue to place far too great a value on playoff contention. When you get down to it, the MVP should drop its name and take a page from the Cy Young Award and concentrate on awarding the best player rather than allow constant squabbling over the 'V' word. If the Cy Young carried the same playoff stigma the MVP does, history would be quite different. Simply change the name and you change the mentality of the voters. It could be the Ty Cobb Award. The Babe Ruth Award. The Honus Wagner Award. My personal vote, which I feel would actually reflect the workings of the BBWAA quite well, would be to call it the Barry Bonds Award after dropping him from the Hall of Fame ballot. He did, in fact, win 7 MVPs, all while pulling the rug out from the writers' feet. But anyway...1947. A bad year for the BBWAA showcasing how individual writers and personal bias cloud the game's history and cause a disservice to the players.
The statistics are all that's necessary to cringe at this one.
Dimaggio:
141 games .315/.391/.522 20HR 97RBI 5.6WAR
Williams:
156 games .343/.499/.634 32HR 114RBI 10.3WAR
Here is your top 5 for 1947:
1. Joe Dimaggio 202 pts
2. Ted Williams 201 pts
3. Lou Boudreau 168 pts
4. Joe Page 167 pts
5. George Kell 132 pts
Notice the one point that gives Dimaggio his third MVP. It is the closest margin of victory in MVP history, and it is certainly suspicious. In 1947, three writers from each team's city had a vote, making twenty-four voting members (8 teams at this time). Much like today, voters listed the league's best 1 though 10, with descending point values for each slot. What has made 1947 such an infamous gaff is the fact that one voter left Williams off the ballot completely. For some reason, the voters for this season were never listed, unlike for others. The common belief for decades, and fueled further in Williams' autobiography, pegged Boston writer Mel Webb as the guilty party. Webb was a well-known curmudgeon and Williams antagonist, but according to the Sporting News's Glenn Stout, Webb was most definitely not one of the three Boston representatives in 1947. It is more likely that Williams was left off one of the Midwestern ballots. The Splendid Splinter was never liked in Detroit or Cleveland, perhaps because he hit so well there. Either way, this is a prime example of how the petty ass-holery of individual writers clouds what these seasonal awards are all about: rewarding greatness.
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| Joe Page earned his split lips. |
The high point totals for Boudreau (CLE) and Kell (DET) suggest they likely received some first-place votes from their respective hometown writers. Boudreau had one of his better seasons, posting a .307/.388/.424 line, hardly exemplary. Kell was just getting going for the Tigers with a .320/.387/.412 line. Joe Page* sticks out coming in at #4. Page was one of the first bonafide relief pitchers to gain significant notoriety from the press and with opposing teams. He was the epitome of a fireman, finishing 44 games. He went 14-8 with a 2.48 ERA, 126 SO in 141 innings. When he could be dragged semi-conscious from the bar, Page was dominant. The Yankee players and opponents considered him a key component to the team's success in the late '40s. Ted Williams acknowledged him as the primary difference between the Yankees continually winning the pennant and the Red Sox looking up from 2nd place.
*For more on Joe Page, as well as the great Yankee and Red Sox teams of the late '40s, read David Halberstam's Summer of '49. It is the best baseball book I've read so far.
The reasons for Joe Dimaggio taking home his 3rd Kennesaw Mountain Landis Trophy instead of Williams are simple; however, that does not make them justifiable. First, the Yankees won the pennant, and the Red Sox did not. The bias toward rewarding players for team accomplishments continues today. I don't think this is right, but I'm in the minority as most players actually feel the same way. Even Ted Williams gracefully acknowledged this when he came in 2nd in '41 and '42 (when he again had superior seasons to the ultimate winners). Dimaggio also had a stretch of domination during the season, carrying the team during an extended winning streak that distanced the Yankees from the rest of the league.
Secondly, Ted Williams simply wasn't a media darling the way Dimaggio was. This is partly the fault of Williams, but mostly the fault of the Boston media, which has always functioned from a predominately cynical foundation. The constant negative sentiments being churned out by many of Boston's loudest writers certainly affected the preconceptions of writers from the other AL cities*. Williams' snub in '47 also comes in the aftermath of his disappointing performance in the 1946 World Series, where he hit .200/.333/.200. Rarely mentioned is the injury Williams sustained during an exhibition game three days prior to the Series, when he was hit by a pitch on the right elbow, causing him to miss two days of batting practice before facing St. Louis. Williams' negative representation in the media coupled with his lackluster October performance the year before certainly affected the 1947 vote. This must be the case, otherwise how could such seemingly knowledgeable baseball men justify rewarding a clearly inferior player?
*It should be noted that at this time, there was no working knowledge of advanced statistics and minimal respect paid to other offensive numbers. While the importance of OBP is prevalent today (though still not as much as it should be among the BBWAA), many actually criticized Williams for taking so many walks, believing them to be self-serving and detrimental to the team as a whole. Utter foolishness.
*It should be noted that at this time, there was no working knowledge of advanced statistics and minimal respect paid to other offensive numbers. While the importance of OBP is prevalent today (though still not as much as it should be among the BBWAA), many actually criticized Williams for taking so many walks, believing them to be self-serving and detrimental to the team as a whole. Utter foolishness.
So Dimaggio collects his trophy, good for him. He was a great player, one of the few we all wish we could have seen. And Williams made out okay, he did in fact succeed in fulfilling the dream of his youth, as most baseball writers and analysts today see his name and say "there was the greatest hitter who ever lived". Still a system is flawed if such an oversight is possible, even probable. For what it's worth (which is nothing, nothing at all), Joe Dimaggio won the 1947 AL Most Valuable Player Award, but Ted Williams won the more apt 1947 Barry Bonds Award.
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| If he'd kept the mustache, it would've all been okay. |
***4 of the top 5 finishers in the vote (Dimaggio, Williams, Kell, Boudreau) are in the Hall of Fame. Looking back at the stats of Kell and Boudreau, one begins to wonder how players like Ron Santo, Minnie Minoso, Tim Raines, and Alan Trammell have such a difficult time getting enshrined.***
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