All-In [30193]
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Dale Murphy - I played against some of the all-time greats
Apr 24, 2019, 10:34 AM
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https://theathletic.com/938406/2019/04/23/dale-murphy-i-played-against-some-of-the-all-time-greats-mike-trout-is-better-than-all-of-them/
In? 1990,? I? went? home? for the? offseason,? fresh off? my first couple of? months? with the Phillies, and?? saw a yellow manila envelope on my doorstep. I went inside, opened it, and what did I find? A video.
I had no idea what it was or who sent it (or how the sender had gotten my address), but I put the tape on and was greeted with some variation of the following:
Hey, Murph, how you doing? Mike here. I want to talk to you about hitting…
That “Mike” was Mike Schmidt, the greatest player I ever competed against.
In the video, Mike gave me, oh, a 15-minute talk about hitting: his philosophy, his mindset, where I was holding my hands, where I should have been holding my hands, and how to approach at-bats. It was basically a hitting tutorial designed specifically for me.
I couldn’t believe it. He took the time to do this?
Maybe some players would have gotten bent out of shape about something like that. Maybe they would have taken the unsolicited advice as a slight. Not me. I thought it was remarkable that Mike did that. Actually, it was one of the nicest things I’ve ever experienced — and it was a sign that things had changed.
Because Mike and I both played in the National League and had some of our best years overlap, you might think we were rivals. We weren’t. Mike was NL MVP in 1980 and 1981, I won mine in 1982 and 1983, and he got another in 1986. We were neck-and-neck for the home run title for a couple of years.
Spoiler alert: He bested me a lot more than I bested him. In fact, Mike was pretty much a lock for 30+ home runs and 100+ RBIs. To me, he wasn’t a rival; he was someone worth emulating, someone I looked up to. I respected him and the way he played the game, and I think we had similar personalities: on the outside, not very demonstrative or flamboyant. On the inside, maybe a little more intense than people realized.
I marveled at Mike for many reasons, including the fact that he was a power-hitting third baseman — which is about the coolest thing you can be in baseball. Think about it: You’re going to have a lot of balls come your way, you have to have world-class reaction time, and you have to have a strong arm. And then you get to go to the plate and mash.
It’s not a bad gig — if you can pull it off.
As great as Mike was in the field, winning 10 Gold Gloves, he was ahead of his time in the batter’s box in that he would almost always take the first pitch. In retrospect, I wish I had done that more. I wish I had been more selective. I was known as a first-ball, fastball hitter — and I didn’t do much to change that reputation. I just didn’t want to get behind in the count.
Mike didn’t have that problem. He’d take the first pitch, even if it was a strike. Getting down 0-1 didn’t faze him. He wanted to see the ball come out of the pitcher’s hand, and he was willing to trade a strike for that information.
Mike had a quiet confidence about him and seemed to get better as his career went on. He hit .293 in his age-37 season. I knew how hard that was to do — mainly because I didn’t do it. Hitting for average late in your career is one of the hardest things to do, which is probably why he sent me the video.
In 1989, Mike retired after 18 Hall of Fame seasons with the Phillies. In 1990, I was traded from Atlanta to Philadelphia … and hit .245 for the season. I’m sure Mike sent that video, in part, because now I was playing for the “good guys.” But I also think he just wanted to help. That’s the kind of guy he was.
All of which is to say this: Mike Schmidt was among the best players of my era. So was Pete Rose (the all-time hits leader deserves a tip of the cap). So was Keith Hernandez (maybe the most clutch hitter I ever played against). So were a lot of other guys.
And Mike Trout is better than all of them.
When former players get together, we often reminisce and talk about the glory days — and the older we get, the better we were. (We also talk about our health — or lack thereof. “Gee, you look great!” is becoming an increasingly common expression among people in my age bracket. Last year, I had a 30-minute conversation with a former teammate about CPAP machines. We used to talk OBP; now we talk sleep apnea. Ah, the joys of aging.)
In any event, it’s human nature to take pride in your prime. “Back in my day” is as much about the passage of time as it is a badge of honor. There’s nothing wrong with that.
But if my contemporaries are being honest, I think we can all agree that today’s players would run circles around us. If you compared us in our early to mid-20s to the players today in their early to mid-20s, it’s not even close. Never before have the best players in baseball been this young. Mike Trout put up historic numbers in his age-20 season and has been doing that pretty much every year since.
Sure, there were good, young hitters in previous eras, including my own. But not like this. The guys today have better swings, more coaching, and have played more baseball by 18 than we played by 25.
It’s incredible.
Hitting is much tougher these days, too. There are too many strikeouts — and some of that is hitters trying to lift the ball too much — but it’s also because they’re facing more pitchers with “strikeout stuff.” When I played, every staff had a few finesse pitchers. We would face two, maybe three pitchers a night, and they usually maxed out in the low-90s. Today, guys see 3-5 pitchers a night, and they all throw gas. Every single one of them. Guys today survive because they understand hitting. They know how to hit the ball the other way, and they self-correct a lot quicker than we ever could at that age.
As for athleticism? Not a chance. Ozzie Smith was the premier shortstop of my generation, and I could watch his highlights all day. Heck, I was there when he made arguably the best defensive play of his career. But today’s players — like Javier Báez — make the brilliant look routine. The jump-throws, the glove flips, the arm strength… it’s jaw-dropping.
This is not a knock on Ozzie. Or Mike, or Pete, or Keith, or myself. Rather, it’s a celebration of today’s player.
As a guy who played the bulk of his career in the 1980s, I’d love to tell you Mike Schmidt was better than Mike Trout. I can’t. Mike Schmidt is as deserving a first-ballot Hall of Famer as you’ll find, and all things being equal, I’ll go with the infielder over the outfielder when comparing or ranking players.
With Trout, however, all things are not equal. He is ahead of everybody.
Mike Trout has finished first or second in the MVP race in six of his seven seasons. The only year he didn’t, 2017, he was injured. To dominate the game at that age with that type of consistency is unparalleled, and I hope that we, as fans, get to see him in the postseason again sooner rather than later.
I still take great pride in my era. There’s a lot of things that today’s players could learn from us, and as great as Trout is, he has a long way to go to catch Mike Schmidt’s numbers. I’ll sure enjoy watching him try.
I don’t anticipate a season-long slump from Trout, even as he ages. But if that happens, I’d be happy to give him some advice — or send him a video.
I’ve got a good one he can borrow.
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