Tim Lincecum, 20 wins, the Cy Young and you

For nearly a century, when a pitcher earned 20 wins it meant they were a very good pitcher.
But that's about it.
It didn't mean they were the best in their league. There was no guaranteed raise in pay or award. It didn't even mean said pitcher was the best on their staff.Consider the 1970 Baltimore Orioles, who had three pitchers - Jim Palmer, Dave McNally and Mike Cuellar- with 20 wins.
While that feat is quite an accomplishment, it was done 22 other times.
Winning 20 games was something a team pretty much expected from at least one starter every season.
Don't believe me? Look it up at baseball-reference.com.
Here are three years at random:
1977
The change started in the late '70s, after Sparky Anderson's Big Red Machine proved you didn't need a dominant starter to be a dominant team.
But in 1977, pitchers still found a way to win 20 games.
The Phillies' Steve Carlton paced the Senior Circuit with 23. He was followed by the Mets' Tom Seaver, who ended up with 21. Then came the Dodgers' Tommy John, the Pirates' John Candelaria, St. Louis' Bob Forsch and Chicago's Rick Reuschel. That means six of 12 National League clubs had 20-game winners.
The American League didn't have as many pitchers reach the plateau. But it still had its fair share.
Palmer, Minnesota's Dave Goltz and Kansas City's Dennis Leonard won 20.
So, overall, nine of 26 teams had 20-game winners.
1953
Four of eight National League teams had 20-game winners. The Braves' Warren Spahn and Phillies' Robin Roberts led the league with 23 victories. St. Louis' Harvey Haddix won 20, as did Carl Erskine of the Dodgers.
Over in the American League, half the teams had 20-game winners as well.
Washington's Bob Porterfield (who) led the way with 22. Cleveland's Bob Lemon and Mel Parnell up in Boston won 21. Virgil Trucks split time between the White Sox and the
Browns but still found a way to win 21.
Of course all this took place back when there was a four-man rotation, which meant more chances to earn a victory.
1938
So this was before the five-man rotation, pitch counts or specialty relievers.
And the numbers are insane when compared to today's standards. Eight guys won 20 games.
There were just 16 teams during the decade, but there was an average of 6.8 20-game winners per season.

Today's pitchers
Compare those numbers to the amount of wins pitchers get today. Twice this decade, we've had a season in which no pitcher won 20 games.
Twice.
Not counting strike-shortened seasons, that had never happened before.
Three times in the last four years, the American League has not had a 20-game winner.
The league leading wins numbers have dropped precipitously.
Only 15 times from 1960 to 1989 had a pitcher led either league with 21 or fewer wins.
It has happened 22 times since the 1990 season.
So, because of expanded rotations, a manager's proclivity to go to his bullpen in the fifth, sixth or seventh inning, and the money in guaranteed contracts, pitchers don't go as deep into games and the win has become a somewhat more hollow statistic, especially when compared to WHIP (walks plus hits, divided by innings pitched), K/BB and some other statistics.
Now let's move from the pitching mound to the batter's box.

Nowadays, you often hear people say things such as, "But he'll never reach 500 home runs, how can he go into the Hall of Fame?"
Let the Southpaw assure you, such an argument is completely and utterly asinine.
The 500 home run club was the most exclusive club in sports because it had been harder to get into than the Hall of Fame itself.
Basically, you could make into the Hall, but not hit 500 homers. But you couldn't hit 500 homers and not make it into the Hall.
Some of the greatest sluggers of the game's first century never made it to 500 home runs.

• Willie Stargell was one of the most feared hitters of his generation, but he came up 25 home runs short.


• Duke Snider had five straight 40-home run seasons, but ended up with 407.


• Johnny Mize won four home run titles but never even reached 400.


• Hank Greenberg had four 40-home run seasons, led the league in homers four times. He had 183 runs batted in during the 1937 season. Hell, he had 359 runs batted in from 1935 to 1937. And he only played in 12 games in 1936. But he was nowhere near 500.

All three of those guys were no-doubt-about-it Hall of Famers.
Yet they didn't make it to the magic 500. Does that belittle their careers? Not a chance.
It just shows you how hard it is to hit 500 home runs.
One last guy to consider.
Ralph Kiner led the league in home runs seven times. Only Mike Schmidt and Babe Ruth have more home run crowns.
But Kiner finished his career with 369 bombs because injuries forced him to retire after just 10 seasons.

You have to wonder if there is some bozo out there who'd say that's not good enough for Cooperstown.
Now, let's move from the sluggers to the not-so-powerful hitters.

The obsession with career milestones is really ridiculous when it comes to 3,000 hits.
There have been plenty of hitters who played long enough and hit for a high enough average and didn't make it to 3,000 hits but were worthy of enshrinement in Cooperstown.
But for some reason, you'll hear people say a player needs to reach that mark to make the trip.
So, in essence they're saying that a player who bats .251 - 30 points below his career average - during his last season, should be in the Hall of Fame because he reached that milestone, but a guy who batted .285 during his career, with 420 stolen bases, 290 home runs and is fifth on the all-time doubles list and scored more runs than Frank Robinson, Carl Yastrzemski and Ted Williams doesn't belong there.
I'm sorry, but that's ludicrous.
You're actually asking a great player to have what would be a sub-par season by a much more inferior player's standards.
Of course, the great player we're talking about is Craig Biggio.

By the time he finished his 18th season, the Houston Astro had been to seven All Star games, led his league in stolen bases once and runs scored twice and earned a reputation as an elite defensive player.
If he'd retired then, he would have ended up with 604 doubles (11th all-time), 1,679 runs scored (32nd all-time, with every eligible player in front of him in Cooperstown) and 407 stolen bases. Add that together with his .285 batting average and 260 home runs and it's hard to imagine him being locked out of the Hall.
But to some people, his final two seasons - in which he batted .249 with seven stolen bases and 147 runs - mean it's time to order the plaque.
To me those numbers sound more Jose Oquendo than Joe Morgan.
It's easy to tell this obsession with milestones came into play fairly recently when you consider Wee Willie Keeler was 68 hits away from 3,000 when he hung up his cleats, Frank Robinson retired 47 hits shy, and Sam Rice was a mere 13 away.
Lucky for them, no one noticed when the Hall of Fame vote came up.