In rating the best five-year stretches every played in the game of baseball, one has to really split hairs in choosing one performance over another. Needless to say, there is an inherent level of subjectivity based on what I (a completely unqualified baseball nerd whose opinion no one should take seriously) deem to be the most important metrics or intangibles. I can already hear the sabermetric groupies are screaming at the screen right now. Advanced stats make your subjective weighting scale totally unnecessary!!! This is debatably true, however, I find that once one delves too deep into the Land Before Time-esque sinkhole that is sabermetrics, they never come back quite the same. Sabermetric immersion is akin to an extreme acid addiction. From the user’s perspective, it seems completely illogical why everyone isn’t doing it too, and from everyone else’s perspective, it is a moot point because it’s impossible to understand a fucking word the dude’s saying. So, for the sake of my sanity and anyone else who doesn’t comprehend the vast inter-workings of Defense-Independent Component ERA, I will proceed using only traditional stats (and WAR, which, in my opinion, is the single-most all-encompassing and understandable sabermetric).
First off, let me explain my grading process:
(1) No team accomplishments are factored in. Besides my blind eye to PEDs, this is probably the most controversial. That is, Joe D’s 1936-40 stretch doesn’t get an immediate bump over Bonds’s 2000-04 stretch because the Yankee Clipper won four rings and Bonds came up empty. The nature of the game itself is to blame for my thinking here. Whereas in basketball, trading Lebron James to the Bobcats immediately makes them a playoff team (if not a darkhorse contender*), in baseball, phenomenal players like Joe Mauer and David Wright (A very intentional backhanded Met’s diss. Don’t worry, these will continue) can languish on terrible teams year after year at no fault of their own. Admittedly, a similar argument can be made for individual awards, in that, they are often given to players whose teams also performed at a high level, but this is not always the case (See every MVP that Arod has ever won. ’03 Rangers - last place in AL West. ’05 Yankees - lost in ALDS. ’07 Yankees - lost in ALDS. This all reinforces an unrelated, but very important point: Arod is really good at being the best player on an underachieving team). Thus, individual awards provide a better baseline for dominance than World Series Rings, Pennants, etc...
* On a side note, if you don’t remember the atrocity that was 06-07 Cavs roster that Lebron singlehandedly took to the finals, here’s a refresher. Larry Hughes was the second leading scorer on that team, and a 33-year old Eric Snow started 45 games. This all reinforces an unrelated, but very important point: Lebron is really good at basketball.
(2) Use of WAR. When it came down to comparing pitchers versus position players, or even position players with extremely different roles (i.e. catcher vs 1st baseman), I relied heavily on WAR to differentiate. WAR (“Wins Above Replacement”), or the amount of wins that one’s performance added to their team’s season over the statistically “average” player at their respective position, is an excellent tool when comparing players of different positions or different eras, and I used it as such.
(3) Use of 162 game averages. In most cases, this is a misleading metric, but seeing as I was only filtering through the greatest five-year performances of all time, the assumption is that if the players were not playing in every game, they were damn close. Furthermore, the projected full season numbers were a useful way to compare players who had different lengths of seasons on an even playing field.
(4) No pre-Bambino bullshit. I tossed out everyone whose prime stretch precluded Ruth’s career in pinstripes (as we speak, I can hear the muted echo of Ty Cobb screaming racial epithets at me from beyond the grave). I cannot really give much justification to this decision outside of the fact that the comically skewed stats from the dead ball era have always really bugged me (yea, I’m talking to you Hugh Duffy, with your ridiculous .440 batting average). Therefore, even if a player’s prime includes a single season before Ruth’s 1920 debut with the Yankees, they’re DQ’d. My list, my rules, Walter Johnson, go cry about it.
(5) Any PED conversation is out. Hate thinking about it, hate talking about it, hate justifying it, but if it was up to me, every player would be juiced to the gills, sweating testosterone, and hitting 800ft bombs. How can this be bad for the game? I’ll say it, I miss the Steroid Era, get over it. Stop screaming Ty Cobb, those days are over.
The Top Ten
The "What Could Have Been" Group
Players whose careers were so spectacular, yet all one can do is sit back and wonder how amazing they would have been if fate hadn't intervened
10. Sandy Koufax (1962-66)
W
|
L
|
CG
|
SHO
|
IP
|
H
|
SO
|
BB
|
WHIP
|
ERA
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
111
|
34
|
100
|
33
|
1377.0
|
959
|
1444
|
316
|
0.926
|
1.95
|
40.9
|
162 game ave
|
22
|
7
|
20
|
7
|
262
|
183
|
275
|
61
|
0.926
|
1.95
|
8.3
|
The last superlative I can throw in for Koufax is this: the footage still speaks for itself. When you watch the grainy images of Koufax winding back and snapping off a curveball, from the left side no less, there is no need for further explanation of his dominance. In an era which pitching was king, Koufax had a goddamn death-grip on the throne.
9. Lou Gehrig (1927-31)
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
2899
|
721
|
1025
|
196
|
801
|
47
|
544
|
0.354
|
0.458
|
0.677
|
1.135
|
47.2
|
162 Game Ave
|
609
|
152
|
216
|
42
|
169
|
10
|
115
|
0.354
|
0.458
|
0.677
|
1.135
|
9.2
|
8. Mickey Mantle (1954-58)
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
2586
|
630
|
840
|
192
|
522
|
57
|
602
|
0.325
|
0.451
|
0.618
|
1.070
|
47.7
|
162 Game Ave
|
569
|
139
|
185
|
43
|
115
|
13
|
133
|
0.325
|
0.451
|
0.618
|
1.070
|
10.1
|
7. Greg Maddux (1992-1996)
W
|
L
|
CG
|
SHO
|
IP
|
H
|
SO
|
BB
|
WHIP
|
ERA
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
90
|
40
|
42
|
`12
|
1191.2
|
951
|
905
|
204
|
0.969
|
2.13
|
40.3
|
162 game ave
|
20
|
9
|
9
|
3
|
256
|
204
|
194
|
44
|
0.969
|
2.13
|
9.1
|
Five years, four Cy Young awards. And, just for kicks, five Gold Gloves as well. The only possible blemish on Maddux’s most notable stretch of dominance was the fact that we only got to watch him for 25 starts in the strike-shortened season of ’94. Up to that point, he had a 1.56 ERA, 10 complete games, 3 shutouts, and a .896 WHIP. It was the kind of once in a lifetime season that could never be repeated again. Unless your name is Greg Maddux. And you do it again the very next season. In his 1995 campaign, Maddux posted a jaw-dropping 19-2 record, with a 1.63 ERA, and a video-game-like 0.811 WHIP. A true master of the game at the height of his powers.
6. Pedro Martinez (1996-2000)
W
|
L
|
CG
|
SHO
|
IP
|
H
|
SO
|
BB
|
WHIP
|
ERA
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
90
|
35
|
32
|
12
|
1122.0
|
823
|
1375
|
273
|
0.977
|
2.45
|
41.6
|
162 game ave
|
20
|
8
|
7
|
3
|
245
|
180
|
300
|
60
|
0.977
|
2.45
|
9.6
|
How can a man who is 170 lb. soaking wet, pitching in the eye of PED-infested storm, put up numbers like this? During his prime, Pedro won three Cy Young’s and came in second another time. And his brilliance culminated in the year 2000 when, given the era, he had arguably the greatest season of all time: 1.74 ERA, 5.3 H/9, 8.88 SO/BB, and .737 WHIP, the lowest in the history of baseball. As a fan who has a boner for all things WHIP-related, Pedro was a lock to be included in the top 10.
One more note - remember when the Red Sox and Yankees used to actually hate each other? Not out of ritualized necessity, but purely for the fact that they thought the other guys were douche bags? Two (complacency laced) rings for the Sox and a half dozen incestuous trades later, and the rivalry has turned into a mid-season episode of Downton Abbey.
The Willie Mays Group:
5. Willie Mays (1962-66)
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
2905
|
583
|
883
|
223
|
570
|
59
|
372
|
0.304
|
0.382
|
0.601
|
0.983
|
52.3
|
162 Game Ave
|
599
|
121
|
182
|
46
|
118
|
13
|
77
|
0.304
|
0.382
|
0.601
|
0.983
|
10.8
|
4. Ted Williams (1941-48)
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
2529
|
667
|
916
|
168
|
621
|
9
|
736
|
0.362
|
0.508
|
0.658
|
1.166
|
50.4
|
162 Game Ave
|
557
|
147
|
202
|
37
|
137
|
2
|
162
|
0.362
|
0.508
|
0.658
|
1.166
|
10.5
|
Most notably, Williams is known for being the last guy to hit .400, but I think his most amazing accomplishment were his two Triple Crowns, one on both end of WWII. Somehow, after his first Crown, in one of the most blatant Yankee-biased heists I’ve seen, Williams came in second to Joe Gordon in the 1942 MVP voting. Someone please explain this one to me. Don’t worry, I’ll wait.
Joe Gordon, 1942
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
538
|
88
|
173
|
18
|
103
|
12
|
79
|
0.322
|
0.409
|
0.491
|
0.900
|
8.2
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
522
|
141
|
186
|
36
|
137
|
3
|
145
|
0.356
|
0.499
|
0.648
|
1.147
|
10.6
|
And if you want to play the “What-if” game with Williams, think about the fact that he missed three of his prime years (’43-’45) while in the Navy in WWII. If you think about what he could have accomplished with three more years like the ones list above, it’s staggering.
3. Rogers Hornsby (1921-25)
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
2679
|
615
|
1078
|
144
|
598
|
43
|
352
|
0.402
|
0.474
|
0.690
|
1.164
|
49.8
|
162 Game Ave
|
625
|
144
|
252
|
34
|
140
|
11
|
83
|
0.402
|
0.474
|
0.690
|
1.164
|
10.8
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
1922
|
623
|
141
|
250
|
42
|
152
|
17
|
65
|
0.401
|
0.459
|
0.722
|
1.181
|
10.0
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
1924
|
536
|
121
|
227
|
25
|
94
|
5
|
89
|
0.424
|
0.507
|
0.696
|
1.203
|
12.1
|
1925
|
504
|
133
|
203
|
39
|
143
|
5
|
83
|
0.403
|
0.489
|
0.756
|
1.245
|
10.1
|
The Great Debate Group:
2. Barry Bonds 2.0 (2000-04)
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
2122
|
615
|
720
|
258
|
544
|
46
|
872
|
0.339
|
0.535
|
0.781
|
1.316
|
51.2
|
162 Game Ave
|
480
|
139
|
163
|
59
|
123
|
11
|
198
|
0.339
|
0.535
|
0.781
|
1.316
|
11.4
|
1. Babe Ruth (1920-24)
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
2455
|
723
|
909
|
235
|
659
|
59
|
691
|
0.370
|
0.511
|
0.777
|
1.288
|
56.8
|
162 Game Ave
|
560
|
165
|
208
|
54
|
151
|
14
|
158
|
0.370
|
0.511
|
0.777
|
1.288
|
12.1
|
Dudes Who Were in the Discussion, But Just Slightly Outside of the Top Ten:
Lefty Grove (1928-32)
Known for: Ace of Philadelphia A’s dynasty,
W
|
L
|
CG
|
SHO
|
IP
|
H
|
SO
|
BB
|
WHIP
|
ERA
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
128
|
33
|
119
|
16
|
1408.1
|
1297
|
925
|
346
|
1.167
|
2.56
|
42.6
|
162 game ave
|
24
|
6
|
22
|
3
|
255
|
235
|
168
|
63
|
1.167
|
2.56
|
8.2
|
Lefty Grove was from the Good ‘Ol Days. The glory years when a pitcher was considered a prima donna for getting pulled out in the 12th inning with a four digit pitch-count. Here’s proof: in 1930, Grove led the league in wins AND saves. Twenty-eight wins, and nine saves. Not only did nine saves somehow lead the league, it was a mark set by a starting pitcher who dabbled in relief on his off days. Looking back through the lens of today’s game, where there are closers, and set-up men, and 7th inning guys, and long relievers, and lefty-specialists, you gotta give props to an old-school horse like Lefty Grove.
Jimmie Foxx (1932-36)
Known for: Best hitter of the Philadelphia A’s dynasty
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
2817
|
644
|
980
|
227
|
720
|
35
|
542
|
0.348
|
0.454
|
0.675
|
1.129
|
42.9
|
162 Game Ave
|
606
|
139
|
211
|
49
|
155
|
8
|
117
|
0.348
|
0.454
|
0.675
|
1.129
|
8.8
|
Jimmie Foxx accomplished just about everything you can can on a baseball field, yet I feel that he has gone down as one of history’s most underrated players. The guy was in the Majors when he was seventeen years old. If only he had played for the Yankees, Foxx would undoubtedly be a household name.
Joe DiMaggio (1937-41)
Known for: Being Captain of the Yankees, having the longest hitting streak of all time, being legendarily pussy-whipped by Marilyn Monroe
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
2731
|
603
|
957
|
169
|
691
|
17
|
312
|
0.350
|
0.420
|
0.638
|
1.058
|
38.0
|
162 Game Ave
|
645
|
143
|
226
|
40
|
164
|
3
|
74
|
0.350
|
0.420
|
0.638
|
1.058
|
8.6
|
The definition of a winner, DiMaggio was the Captain of the Yankee squad during arguably the most dominant period of the club’s unparalleled history. Between ’37 and ’41 he was five for five in All Star appearances, won two MVPs, and mixed in a little hit streak as well. You’d think that would be enough to get you into the top ten, but you’d be wrong.
Stan Musial (1943-48)
Known for: Best player on the Cardinals dynasty of the 40s, being somewhere near the top of like every goddamn hitting category there is
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
3007
|
615
|
1078
|
144
|
598
|
43
|
352
|
0.352
|
0.430
|
0.582
|
1.012
|
39.7
|
162 Game Ave
|
638
|
126
|
225
|
21
|
107
|
8
|
84
|
0.352
|
0.430
|
0.582
|
1.012
|
8.0
|
Of all the players included on this list, I think that WAR short-changes Musial the most. Ty Cobb, in a 1952 Life magazine article, called Stan the Man “the closest to being perfect in the game today.” And, trust me, if a certified douche bag like Ty Cobb is giving you compliments like that, you’re the real deal. And here’s a random, but equally jaw dropping note, the dude had more doubles in this five year stretch than every Mets roster from 1962 to 1976. Maybe the most astounding stat I’ve ever seen. And that is not at all a shot at the Mets. I swear.
Yogi Berra (1951-55)
Known for: Where to start? Being the goofiest looking dude in the Hall of Fame, appearing in 21 World Series as a player, coach, or manager (winning 13), having countless ridiculous sayings (my favorite: “I’m not going to buy my kids an encyclopedia - let ‘em walk to school like I did.”)
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
2709
|
441
|
782
|
133
|
527
|
8
|
276
|
0.289
|
0.358
|
0.489
|
0.847
|
24.9
|
162 Game Ave
|
613
|
100
|
177
|
31
|
120
|
2
|
63
|
0.289
|
0.358
|
0.489
|
0.847
|
5.9
|
I shit you not, Berra got the nickname Yogi because his childhood friends said “he just walked like a Yogi.” How can you not become a legend with a start like that? The stats may not knock your socks off, in fact, Berra never led the league in a single category. Not one. Though, to be fair, he did win “most likely to be cast in a supporting role in Lord of the Rings” in the annual Yankee yearbook. Nonetheless, the three MVPs he won over these five seasons speak volumes as to how good Yogi Berra really was. In the two seasons he didn’t win? He came in second and fourth. A true Renaissance man of the diamond, Berra routinely split time between catcher, left field, right field, and even occasionally filled in at third and first when the Yankees needed him to.
Hank Aaron (1959-63)
Known for: being the real home run king
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
3045
|
581
|
984
|
202
|
627
|
91
|
311
|
0.323
|
0.383
|
0.600
|
0.984
|
43.4
|
162 Game Ave
|
634
|
121
|
205
|
43
|
131
|
19
|
65
|
0.323
|
0.383
|
0.600
|
0.984
|
8.8
|
This is exactly the kind of list that works against a guy like Hammerin’ Hank. That is, a guy who brilliance is not defined by meteoric moments of greatness, but rather, a methodical and relentless body of work. Aaron was damn close to cracking the top ten, but a relatively mediocre OBP, coupled with the fact that his main competition was Willie Mays, left him inches short in my mind.
Bob Gibson (1968-72)
Known for: This quote is all you need know: Hank Aaron once told Dusty Baker, “Don't dig in against Bob Gibson, he'll knock you down. He'd knock down his own grandmother if she dared to challenge him. Don't stare at him, don't smile at him, don't talk to him. He doesn't like it. If you happen to hit a home run, don't run too slow, don't run too fast. If you happen to want to celebrate, get in the tunnel first. And if he hits you, don't charge the mound, because he's a Gold Glove boxer.” Baseball was so much cooler in the 60s.
W
|
L
|
CG
|
SHO
|
IP
|
H
|
SO
|
BB
|
WHIP
|
ERA
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
100
|
53
|
122
|
29
|
1436.1
|
1152
|
1204
|
409
|
1.087
|
2.35
|
42.5
|
162 game ave
|
21
|
11
|
25
|
6
|
291
|
233
|
144
|
83
|
1.087
|
2.35
|
9.1
|
Although I would never say it to his face, in my opinion, Koufax was definitively better than Gibson. The proof is truly in the pudding on this on as Gibson’s ERA is significantly higher, he has less strikeouts, less wins, more walks, etc, etc... However, an argument can be made that Gibson’s 1968 campaign is the single greatest season any pitcher in the history of baseball. Take a look:
W
|
L
|
CG
|
SHO
|
IP
|
H
|
SO
|
BB
|
WHIP
|
ERA
|
WAR
|
|
1968
|
22
|
9
|
28
|
13
|
304.2
|
198
|
268
|
62
|
0.853
|
1.12
|
11.2
|
Everything about this stat line is horrifying. Thirteen shutouts??? How did the anemic St. Louis offense manage to lose this guy nine games? Anyways, Gibson was so dominant that they actually changed the rules of the game in response to make pitchers less dominant. I can’t think of a swaggier move than getting the rules changed in response to your swag. That’s all I have to say, about that.
Tom Seaver (1969-73)
Known for: having the only plaque in Cooperstown with a Met hat (shocker)
W
|
L
|
CG
|
SHO
|
IP
|
H
|
SO
|
BB
|
WHIP
|
ERA
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
103
|
51
|
89
|
17
|
1402.1
|
1076
|
1280
|
367
|
1.029
|
2.35
|
39.0
|
162 game ave
|
20
|
10
|
17
|
4
|
267
|
205
|
244
|
70
|
1.029
|
2.35
|
7.9
|
Seaver was probably the most surprising name that stuck out at me during my research for this article. Color me fooled for thinking that there was no way a Met was going to sneak onto this list (the Met’s comments are never going to stop). “Tom Terrific” won two Cy Young’s in this stretch, and got robbed out of a third in 1971, arguably the best season of his career. Last note - Tom Terrific? Really? This is probably the most pathetic attempt at a nickname I’ve ever seen. C’mon Met’s fans, it’s like you opened up a dictionary, looked for the first word you could find that started with a T, and said, how about...Tommy Teaspoon? No, no, keep looking. Ok, how about Tom Terrific? Brilliant!
Joe Morgan (1972-76)
Known for: His flappy elbow batting stance, Always thinking he’s right (if you’ve ever saw him as the color man on broadcasts alongside Jon Miller, you know what I’m talking about)
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
2610
|
565
|
792
|
108
|
427
|
310
|
592
|
0.303
|
0.431
|
0.499
|
0.930
|
47.8
|
162 Game Ave
|
569
|
124
|
173
|
24
|
94
|
68
|
130
|
0.303
|
0.431
|
0.499
|
0.930
|
10.1
|
Morgan (and his awesome flappy elbow) won back-to-back MVPs in ’75 and ’76, and, in my opinion, was the straw that stirred the drink on a loaded Cincinnati Reds roster. I would wager that in today’s game Morgan would be even more appreciated due to his ridiculously high OBP and amazing combination of power and speed.
Rickey Henderson (1980-84)
Known for: Referring to himself in the third person or simply as The Greatest
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
2565
|
537
|
754
|
50
|
245
|
460
|
486
|
0.294
|
0.408
|
0.418
|
0.826
|
34.8
|
162 Game Ave
|
593
|
125
|
175
|
12
|
57
|
107
|
113
|
0.294
|
0.408
|
0.418
|
0.826
|
7.8
|
Like with Aaron, this is the kind of structure that works against Rickey Henderson, but for a different reason. He was undoubtedly the greatest leadoff hitter the game has ever seen. He stole more bases, and scored more runs than any player in history. He also had decent power to boot. But, unfortunately, Rickey’s greatness was never concurrently displayed over the course of five seasons. The stolen bases came early in his career, and the home runs came later, but there was never an extreme enough of a crossover. Sorry Rickey, you didn’t make the top ten, but it still doesn’t affect my opinion of you as Swag-Master-General of Major League Baseball.
Roger Clemens (1986-90)
Known for: The most Cy Young Awards in history (7), an incessant need to throw objects at Mike Piazza’s head (totally understandable)
W
|
L
|
CG
|
SHO
|
IP
|
H
|
SO
|
BB
|
WHIP
|
ERA
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
100
|
42
|
57
|
23
|
1281.1
|
1052
|
1224
|
359
|
1.101
|
2.71
|
41.7
|
162 game ave
|
20
|
9
|
12
|
5
|
257
|
211
|
245
|
72
|
1.101
|
2.71
|
8.8
|
Two Cy Young Awards, an MVP, and a 20 strikeout game couldn’t get the Rocket into the top ten. Not to mention 57 complete games and 23 shutouts, both figures that are unheard of in the modern era of pitching. Essentially, the decision came down to Maddux or Clemens, and unfortunately for Clemens, a relatively mediocre 1989 season inflated his five-year ERA and WHIP to a level that simply could not compete with the nerdy professor’s. Clemens is yet another example of a guy whose sustained brilliance works against him when spotlighting a particular five-year stretch of their career.
Barry Bonds 1.0 (1990-94)
Known for: Resembling an actual Homo Sapien
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
2432
|
526
|
755
|
175
|
537
|
192
|
527
|
0.310
|
0.432
|
0.604
|
1.035
|
42.8
|
162 Game Ave
|
553
|
120
|
172
|
40
|
122
|
44
|
120
|
0.310
|
0.432
|
0.604
|
1.035
|
9.7
|
It’s sick to say that Bonds probably could have made it into the top ten for multiple five-year stretches of his career, but it’s true. This was Bonds 1.0, renown for his remarkable plate discipline, unparalleled combination of power and speed, and the uncanny ability to win Gold Gloves entirely because of his hitting. He won his first three MVPs while inhabiting this body, and never finished lower than fourth in the voting.
Ken Griffey Jr. (1996-2000)
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
2912
|
593
|
844
|
249
|
685
|
81
|
415
|
0.290
|
0.382
|
0.604
|
0.986
|
35.8
|
162 Game Ave
|
618
|
126
|
179
|
53
|
146
|
18
|
88
|
0.290
|
0.382
|
0.604
|
0.986
|
7.3
|
If there has ever been a more beautiful player than Ken Griffey Jr, I can’t think of him. Whenever I see footage of his swing, the music from The Natural begins to play in my head and my eyes get cloudy (*sniff* goddamn you, Robert Redford, you get me every time). Griffey was the natural, placed on this Earth with the specific mission to amaze in the baseball diamond. Playing in an era of wild-west-style steroid abuse (look at this ridiculous collection of human beings, Juan Gon could rip a phonebook in half with his forearms), Griffey was still a head above his competition. Unfortunately, once he left the Mariners, the hamstrings began to give out and Junior’s pursuit to become baseball’s G.O.A.T. was derailed.
Randy Johnson (1998-2002)
Known for: Incredibly impressive animal cruelty. Perfecting the mullet’s sweat-to-grease ratio (Good lord. It’s beautiful)
W
|
L
|
CG
|
SHO
|
IP
|
H
|
SO
|
BB
|
WHIP
|
ERA
|
WAR
| |
Totals
|
100
|
38
|
41
|
17
|
1274.1
|
990
|
1746
|
374
|
1.070
|
2.63
|
44.1
|
162 game ave
|
20
|
8
|
9
|
4
|
250
|
195
|
343
|
74
|
1.070
|
2.63
|
9.1
|
When I started making this list, the Big Unit’s ’98 to ’02 run seemed like a lock to be in the top ten. This was the period when Randy finally put it all together, the accuracy, the masterful changing of speeds, the gangly intimidation, the mullet. The dude ran off four consecutive Cy Young’s for god’s sake. And it was in the midst of the NL’s steroid utopia no less. His 12.3 K/9 is a figure that no one even sniffs nowadays. However, in the final tally, the 6’11” giant in the desert simply couldn’t stand up to the little runt out in Boston, and he came up just short of the top ten (So many unintentional puns!! I crack myself up).
Albert Pujols (2005-09)
Known for: Being the best hitter on the Cardinal’s World Series winning teams
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
2783
|
571
|
930
|
206
|
608
|
48
|
507
|
0.334
|
0.439
|
0.631
|
1.070
|
44.5
|
162 Game Ave
|
585
|
120
|
196
|
44
|
107
|
11
|
107
|
0.334
|
0.439
|
0.631
|
1.070
|
9.1
|
Up until last year, it was debatable whether Albert Pujols was even a human being. A 13th Round draft pick, Pujols burst onto the scene as a bonified All Star and proceeded to go on an eleven year run (seemingly) without a slump. However, ironically, his quiet, consistent domination seemed to lose him points in my mind when comparing him to guys like Mantle or Koufax (that is, guys who had much flashier styles of play). Reasoning like this is exactly why no one should take my opinion seriously.
Miguel Cabrera (2009-2013)
Known for: Winning first Triple Crown since 1967
AB
|
R
|
H
|
HR
|
RBI
|
SB
|
BB
|
BA
|
OBP
|
SLG
|
OPS
|
WAR
|
|
Totals
|
2731
|
505
|
916
|
178
|
572
|
18
|
395
|
0.335
|
0.420
|
0.601
|
1.021
|
32.3
|
162 Game Ave
|
607
|
113
|
204
|
40
|
127
|
4
|
88
|
0.335
|
0.420
|
0.601
|
1.021
|
7.1
|
Cabrera has taken the crown from Pujols as baseball’s best player. Furthermore, he seems to be still getting better. His status on this list has a chance to improve he continues his Triple Crown assault on the American League.
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