Deficient defenders: many players have earned reputations as "good hit, no field" performers - descriptions of play of baseball players

Baseball Digest, July, 2003 by George Vass

BREVITY BEING THE SOUL OF WIT, no memorable baseball quotation comes close to matching the verbal economy, elegance and exactitude of Mike Gonzalez's classic scouting report of the 1920s that described a young Moe Berg as "Good field, no hit."

Sure, there's "Nice Guys finish last," but that's an ingenious sportswriter's embellishment of what Leo Durocher actually said, which was that the New York Giants were in last place despite being nice guys. Besides, it's far more disputable than Berg's proven inadequacy at bat, attested by his .243 average over 15 major league seasons, first as an infielder before being converted into a catcher.

It's a shame. Many a scout could have followed Gonzalez's lead and summed up a young prospect's flawed talent by shuffling the same four little words used in the evaluation of Berg. "Good hit, no field" would serve to describe countless players throughout the game's history right up to the present even though the American League's use of the designated hitter (DH) tends to shield most of the contemporary suspects. The poor fielders in the National League are more vulnerable, unable to conceal their defensive defects unless used solely as pinch hitters.

With hitting at a premium in today's offense minded game, however, and lacking the DH rule to hide the "butchers" with a glove, N.L. teams can't entirely avoid exposing defective fielders because they must keep some in the regular lineup to take full advantage of their hitting ability.

Here's what one scouting report has to say about a current N.L. power hitter who is adept at neither first base, third base or left field (with the name concealed to protect the guilty, a practice followed in all succeeding similar cases):

"You can't hide him in the field. He's just brutal at third. He's brutal in the outfield, too: He's strictly a bat."

Likewise, a veteran N.L. catch feared for his great power hitting but never noted for defensive talent, draws the following summation: "If anything, his catching is getting worse. His throwing is atrocious."

A veteran center fielder inspires this brutally negative appraisal: "He's a bad outfielder ... He can run, but he gets poor reads on fly balls and he can't catch ground balls. His instincts out there are terrible."

A well-known hard-hitting infielder described as "really, really talented" nevertheless is sized up disparagingly when it comes to the defensive aspect of his game: "He's on the shaky side with his glove. His range is a little below average, his hands aren't that great. His arm is very strong but erratic."

While most defense-challenged players are concealed in the A.L. with the DH rule, necessity sometimes requires the exposure of a few in the field despite their glaring shortcomings.

A report that extols the offensive talent of a well-known A.L. player who is normally in the lineup as a fielder goes on to confess: "The trouble is he comes up short whenever he plays in the field. His best position is probably DH."

One of baseball's greatest hitters who is regularly stationed in the outfield of an A.L. team is given an unreservedly thumbs-down appraisal: "He's one-dimensional because he doesn't work at the other end of his game (defense)."

All this suggests that fielding skill rates well below hitting ability when it comes to sizing up talent, or paying for it.

Former Kansas City Royals second baseman Frank White, a defensive whiz who also swung a decent bat, once remarked with a hint of bitterness, "In a (contract) negotiating session they'll tell you, 'If you shake a tree, you can always find a glove.' But you can't always find good hands and feet to go with it." Nor outstanding ability as a hitter.

The partial scouting reports cited here (without naming the "guilty") make it clear that there's no shortage of poor fielding players in each major league. They're just less often exposed to public horror, scorn and censure in the A.L. After all, the purpose of the DH rule is to boost offense without endangering defense.

Unfairly, or unfortunately, among the exceptions has been first baseman-DH Frank Thomas of the Chicago White Sox, a great hitter who has played in the field on and off during his career though he now sticks mostly to swinging a bat. These days Thomas is reluctant, perhaps even opposed to wearing a glove after so many misadventures.

When Thomas, the winner of two A.L. Most Valuable Player Awards, tested the free agent market last winter before resuming his affiliation with the White Sox that started in 1990, a sports columnist questioned his chance of switching leagues.

"But what could Thomas do in the DH-free National League?" the skeptic wrote. "People remember Thomas playing first base in the 2000 playoffs against the Seattle Mariners, remembering him staggering about, stabbing at rollers, double-hitching his throws, and were fearful then-Mariners skipper Lou Piniella might bunt him to death."

It may be unfair, even unkind, to single out Thomas by name, but he has been the open and frequent target of similar criticism for years, and has candidly admitted to his inadequacy as a fielder.