The 5.5 Hole

Last night, Juan Francisco of the Cincinnati Reds absolutely crushed a home run. He hit the ball 502 feet and sent it completely out of The Great American Ballpark. This isn't a park designed like San Francisco's or Pittsburgh's or Chicago's or Boston's. Balls were not meant to clear the right field bleachers in Cincinnati. Which makes Francisco's blast all the more awe-inspiring.

Moments like that provide a glimpse into an argument that I completely disagree with, but feel is worthy of mention. There is a faction of baseball fans that would turn a blind-eye to performance enhancing drugs in order to see more monster home runs like Francisco's last night. The thinking is based on an admittedly logical belief that home runs are exciting and help promote the game.

Like Tom Brady's 99 yard touchdown pass last night on Monday Night Football, big plays sell the sport. Football has the long touchdown, basketball has the slam dunk, and baseball has the home run. So why not capitalize on baseball's biggest marketing machine, home runs?

To be honest, it's a fair question, and I can understand the thought process behind ignoring steroid use if it means more excitement in baseball. But that's not what baseball is about. Baseball is not built on meaningless thrills. A dunk in a basketball game is exciting but doesn't mean much in the grand scheme. A long touchdown in football is often just as exciting as an interception. And PED-induced home runs are nothing more than illusion. Baseball is not a magic show and does not need smoke and mirrors.

A shot like Francisco's is something special because of it's rarity. Like the legendary home run Mickey Mantle hit out of Yankee Stadium, home runs are magical in their defiance of physics. The reason we can't EVER overlook PED's is to maintain the home run in its pure form. A mixture between the power of the pitch and the power of the swing.

The controversy behind PED's seems to be dying down, but when I see mammoth home runs like Francisco's I'm reminded of why we can't simply give in for entertainment purposes. Home runs are difficult to come by and can only be cheapened by artificial power.

It's easy to breakdown the top players in the league, but what about the little guys (or larger than life guys who are currently struggling)? What about the forgotten few bringing up the rear in offensive categories? Those are the players we'll take a look out in this article. It's time to give a little love to the bottom rung.

The Sliver Slugger Award (Player with the smallest sliver of a batting average)
Adam Dunn - .165
After posting a .260/.356/.536 triple-slash last season, Adam Dunn forgot how to hit. He has exactly 60 hits in 363 at-bats. He will finish the season (hopefully) with more than 60 hits, but the only other time he has had this few knocks came in his rookie season. In 244 at-bats, Dunn had 64 hits. He still posted a .262/.371/.578. This season, though, he's striking out more than ever. His 35.5% K Rate is the highest of his career.

Dunn is having one of the all-time bad seasons. A player known for his power and slugging percentage is barely hovering over a .290 slugging percentage. So we take our hats off to Adam Dunn and award him the Sliver Slugger Award.

The Triple Sombrero (Player with the most strikeouts)
Drew Stubbs - 170
If the silver sombrero is bad, and the golden sombrero is worse, and the platinum sombrero is downright embarrassing, the combination of all three must be reserved for season worsts. With only 41 more strikeouts to go, Stubbs is almost a lock to break Mark Reynolds all-time strikeout record. Through 129 games, Stubbs is averaging 3.9 at-bats per game. With 33 games to play, Stubbs will likely get about 128 more at-bats. With a K% of about 33%, Stubbs has a chance to strikeout 42 more times and set the all-time record.

At least Stubbs, unlike Adam Dunn, can boast a positive WAR. He currently sits on a 2.8 WAR. And while Stubbs strikes out a lot, he also gets hits. He has 126 hits. This is keeping him well above the Sliver Slugger Award. But, he has a tight grasp on the Triple Sombrero.

The Non-Base Percentage Award (Player with the lowest on-base percentage, minimum 300 at-bats)
Vernon Wells - .242
Wells has largely been a bust since coming to the Angels from the Blue Jays. But it may not be a complete reduction in talent. Wells' BABIP is a terribly low .211. That means either Wells is incredibly unlucky when he makes contact or fielders are incredible lucky. With a ground ball percentage fourth lowest in his career, it doesn't look like he is hitting the ball right at infielders. It would appear his fly ball hits are just dropping into fielders gloves more often than usual.

Vernon Wells isn't let completely off the hook though. In analyzing his walks, Wells is on pace to take less walks than he ever has in his career. With only 17 walks this season, it would seem Wells is hacking at every pitch he sees. Clearly this contributes to the types of pitches he hits and the chance for making outs. So, Vernon Wells, with his lack of walks, lack of hits, and sheer inability to get on base wins the Non-Base Percentage Award.

The Ducksnorts Award (Player with the least amount of home runs, minimum 300 at-bats)
Jamey Carroll - 0 Home Runs, 378 at-bats
In basically a full season's worth of games, Carroll has been unable to run into one. Carroll is one of only a few players in the league with over 300 at-bats without a home run. If pitchers can hit them, Carroll should have at least one.

Jamey Carroll does contribute elsewhere, though. He has a .291 batting average and a .360 on-base percentage. He's scored 42 runs and boasts a 1.5 WAR. Not great but at least he's contributing. Though Carroll isn't one to hit the big fly, he collects hits any way he can. As his reward, he wins the Ducksnorts Award.

There you have it. We've covered just a few of the offensive categories out there, but we have a good representation of the best of the worst. Great players are easy to evaluate. It's the mediocre to bad players that are fun to analyze. So enjoy the first annual Best of the Worst.

Home runs are exciting. They can shift momentum or bring a crowd to its feet. They can set records, and they end games. Yet there has been something so dark about home runs up until recently.

The home run race between Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa of 1998 brought fans back to baseball after so many had left following the 1994 strike. But those two also contributed to another black spot in baseball history. Steroids destroyed the competitive balance and eliminated all meaning behind home run figures.

Fortunately, baseball's much belated steps to eliminate steroids have worked This has ushered in a new era of competition. Pitching is king.

Let's take a look at home run figures in recent years.

2004 - 5,451
2005 - 5,017
2006 - 5,386
2007 - 4,957
2008 - 4,878
2009 - 5,042
2010 - 4,613
2011 - 2,106 (half way mark) 4,212 estimated total.

This leads me to one conclusion. Everyone was cheating. Now, obviously there are players who have always been clean, but one look at the numbers tells me a lot of players were using steroids.

Prior to 2005, there was no punishment for steroid use. Baseball finally implemented a testing and punishment system in the beginning of 2005, then made it more harsh at the end of 2005.

As you can see, the home run totals have been on a steady decline (except for an anomaly in 2006 and 2009) since the end of the '04 season. We are on pace for 1,000 fewer home runs in 2011 than 2004. 1,000!

Pitchers have benefited from the reduction in steroid use (I won't say elimination since players like Manny Ramirez prove arrogance can still trump penalty). The 2004 season saw an average of 716 earned runs per team. In 2010 that number was down to an average of 653 earned runs per team.

Pitchers do not have an advantage now, they are simply playing on a level playing field. And yes, I am aware plenty of pitchers were busted for steroids. But there is a big difference between a little extra juice behind a fast ball and a little extra juice off a batted ball.

We have entered into a golden era of baseball. The pitcher's era. Maybe I'm crazy, but I'll take six no-hitters in one year over a 70 home run season.