For a lot of people who follow Major League Baseball, there is nothing more glorious and historical than who has the most career home runs. The top five pantheon, the top 10, the top 20. Even the top 100 is a pretty amazing list.
My favorite player of all time, Tim Raines, Senior, (played 1979-2002) comes fifth place in all-time stolen bases, which is his most dominant statistic for his career numbers. As far as home-runs, he being a great lead-off hitter and scorer, his career 170 HRs ranks him tied for 406th all time with four other players. He will always be my childhood favorite player, which is hard to replace, but there is a new franchise player that has my attention and fancy, and that guy is a man with more elite natural long ball power: Bryce Harper, number #34 (2012-present). It took a decade since Rock Raines to find the new one for me. And now my kids might see him as their favorite. Sounds kind of fun to share a favorite player. Whatever ...
Along with his proclivity and reputation for hitting home runs at a good pace, Bryce can also hit for average and on-base percentage, as proven this season, the possible National Leauge MVP for the year of 2015. (At present this Columbus Day we have another 3-4 weeks to find out if he earns that prestigious honor at the ripe age of 22-23 years-old).
More about him later.
Our present list of top home run hitters is a bit skewed by what many think is cheating by way of performance enhancing drugs (PEDs) in the modern "long ball/steroids era", which is reason to think a new long ball king should be anointed in order to cleanse the palette of the most legendary stat, first established in our collective conscious by none other than the Sultan of Swat, the Bambino Babe Ruth (played 1914-1935).
Just a little analysis and contemplation as to what Babe Ruth meant to baseball, to the United States, and maybe the world:
In the 1910s (the teens, as we might call them 100 years later) baseball was established with legends and heroes, but the home run was not part of its renown. The Babe changed that a couple years after World War I, starting in his first year with the New York Yankees in 1920: Ruth blasted an unheard of number of 54 dingers in our most famous and biggest city, followed the next year with an alluring 59 at the age of 26! King Kong may have been a mythical ape that would later scale the tallest building in the world, the Empire State Building, but Babe would prove that a real larger than life mythical creature could be fashioned in this wondrous city by clouting the magical 60 in 1927, four years before that tallest building in the world would be erected. Also of note, two other Manhattan skyscrapers held the record as tallest building for a year before that iconic ediface was finished, giving hope to some that despite the economic downturn of the stocks, bank savings and overall work malaise around the planet moving into the 1930s, industry and modernism were advancing to the betterment of all humankind. And baseball was another indicator of hope and happiness, even prosperity in the face of long and dire odds.
Keep in mind, a couple of traumatic world events had just taken place prior to the first Yankee decade of the Babe, the Roaring Twenties, both the "War to End All Wars" and the Spanish influenza epidemic. Both events shook the earth and its collective psyche: everyone knew someone tragically removed by violence or disease. It seemed that the world was a sinister place, that Darwinian implications of survival of the fittest was in reality a brutal contest of death by happenstance or cruel fate. Marxists had their ideas concerning the solutions for human deficiencies and unfair conditions, while many Westerners vehemently disagreed; diseases in general were an awful sentence that plagued the most benign and innocent parts of our population.
Russia, Germany and Japan loomed as new powers that threatened the world order, which would not be known or manifested for sure until the 1940s and thereafter.
But the United States had baseball, and the Bambino long ball of the Yankees, which must have helped a few million beleaguered citizens have a little ray of optimism and respite despite overall dark forebodings of our young men going off to fight another overseas tyranny, many never to return. While most of their bodies were at least recovered for proper burials, many thousands have never been discovered to this day.
Babe Ruth finished his hallmark career in 1935, the middle of the Great Depression, but had left the hugely towering feat of 714 career home runs. The Bambino was the closest thing we had to a real life Superman.
Threats and dangers and depressive finances raged in the 1930s and 1940s, but hope had rays of light in the fanciful swings and pitches of the green ball park and neatly manicured diamond of our biggest industrial cities. The poor, hard working class had reasons to treasure as they came home from the five o'clock working bell. Kids would do the same from their days of schooling. Mothers and daughters could share in the excitement, although baseball has been a "sport of men", the game of the strongest and fleetest.
Racial separation had been a plague of the United States for all of its existence.
And then Jackie Robinson and the rest of integration became a reality and the sport of baseball truly did become the national pastime, offering a chance for every US citizen to become its best and brightest.
Which is what Hank Aaron, Junior (played 1954-1976) did to prove that blacks belonged; they always had, but his numbers proved it. Baseball confirmed that fact and celebrated it. Aaron, a southern African-American consistent home run hitter, proved to be the best career home run hitter of all time in 1974. America had finally arrived at what it pretended to be in 1776. All men were created equal, and the Louisville slugger helped prove it.
Baseball offered a chance to live the dream of Martin Luther King and all true Americans: we earn our glory through hard work, dedication and merit. And some luck. Aaron stayed healthy. Hank kept his eye on the ball. For a long time. He did it!
Disease and poverty and misfortune can be overcome.
Thanks, baseball. And thanks to the family and coaches and teammates of Hammerin' Hank. You gave us a national treasure that is hard to understand and truly fathom as to its import as to who we are as a people. Black or white, we earn our rewards and glories as equals.
Fast forward to the days of Barry Bonds, Junior, (played 1986-2007) and it was not so much about race but about ethics. Did he use illegal drugs to boost his strength and stunning late career numbers? He did. Like other power hitters Sammy Sosa, Mark McGuire, probably Rafael Palmeiro and a few others with prodigious power numbers since the 1990s.
Bonds did surpass Aaron (and notably Ruth before him) by the late summer of 2007, but it was tainted. Stained, tarnished, not right.
Bonds did get the career home run record at a high price, his and all of baseball integrity, and that does not sit right with many. Many who continue to believe the game is pure, that is a standard of truth.
So we await another king, a truer, righter champion of the home run. Not bulked out (i.e. drug juiced) Barry.
It could now be Alex Rodriguez (playing since 1994 to present) or Albert Pujols (playing since 2001), and the latter would be more welcome since A-Rod, most recently a Yankee has been punished for also using booster drugs, missing all of the 2014 season in result of the sanctions attributed to that accusation and sentence. A bit like Barry but tempered with a season punished by banishment. He is 40 years-old now, as opposed to Albert being 35 and still having spark in his bat in 2015. Both are Latino, which would be the way our country moves: we progress on to the new cultures, this 21st century perhaps being the age of the Latino. And now we have supremely talented East Asians in the mix, too. Baseball is a world sport and fair.
Looking down the road, there are some promising prospects to be the new Sultan, the new Hammerin' legend. With no caveats and asterisks, no rumors of foul play and unnaturally bulging muscles and necks. There is an incredibly gifted player named Giancarlo Stanton, and a few others in their thirties who show some promise.
Doing it the right way.
I hope we are all around in the next decades to see how those homers will fly. And how the lists will change.
And who will be the new all-time great in our lifetime? Could it be Mike, or Bryce? Or is it someone else...
Baseball will keep track, and fans will let you know. And people across the world will start to care more than before, like they do about the Olympics or the soccer World Cup.
Swing for the seats, players, and keep your eyes on the prize. Play it right.
Thanks again, baseball. Thanks for letting a game show us that playing hard and fair offers its rewards for those who are not afraid of defeat. We can swing for the fences and overcome.
And dreaming and hoping come about every spring and fall.
Blog on, EMC.
My favorite player of all time, Tim Raines, Senior, (played 1979-2002) comes fifth place in all-time stolen bases, which is his most dominant statistic for his career numbers. As far as home-runs, he being a great lead-off hitter and scorer, his career 170 HRs ranks him tied for 406th all time with four other players. He will always be my childhood favorite player, which is hard to replace, but there is a new franchise player that has my attention and fancy, and that guy is a man with more elite natural long ball power: Bryce Harper, number #34 (2012-present). It took a decade since Rock Raines to find the new one for me. And now my kids might see him as their favorite. Sounds kind of fun to share a favorite player. Whatever ...
Along with his proclivity and reputation for hitting home runs at a good pace, Bryce can also hit for average and on-base percentage, as proven this season, the possible National Leauge MVP for the year of 2015. (At present this Columbus Day we have another 3-4 weeks to find out if he earns that prestigious honor at the ripe age of 22-23 years-old).
More about him later.
Our present list of top home run hitters is a bit skewed by what many think is cheating by way of performance enhancing drugs (PEDs) in the modern "long ball/steroids era", which is reason to think a new long ball king should be anointed in order to cleanse the palette of the most legendary stat, first established in our collective conscious by none other than the Sultan of Swat, the Bambino Babe Ruth (played 1914-1935).
Just a little analysis and contemplation as to what Babe Ruth meant to baseball, to the United States, and maybe the world:
In the 1910s (the teens, as we might call them 100 years later) baseball was established with legends and heroes, but the home run was not part of its renown. The Babe changed that a couple years after World War I, starting in his first year with the New York Yankees in 1920: Ruth blasted an unheard of number of 54 dingers in our most famous and biggest city, followed the next year with an alluring 59 at the age of 26! King Kong may have been a mythical ape that would later scale the tallest building in the world, the Empire State Building, but Babe would prove that a real larger than life mythical creature could be fashioned in this wondrous city by clouting the magical 60 in 1927, four years before that tallest building in the world would be erected. Also of note, two other Manhattan skyscrapers held the record as tallest building for a year before that iconic ediface was finished, giving hope to some that despite the economic downturn of the stocks, bank savings and overall work malaise around the planet moving into the 1930s, industry and modernism were advancing to the betterment of all humankind. And baseball was another indicator of hope and happiness, even prosperity in the face of long and dire odds.
Keep in mind, a couple of traumatic world events had just taken place prior to the first Yankee decade of the Babe, the Roaring Twenties, both the "War to End All Wars" and the Spanish influenza epidemic. Both events shook the earth and its collective psyche: everyone knew someone tragically removed by violence or disease. It seemed that the world was a sinister place, that Darwinian implications of survival of the fittest was in reality a brutal contest of death by happenstance or cruel fate. Marxists had their ideas concerning the solutions for human deficiencies and unfair conditions, while many Westerners vehemently disagreed; diseases in general were an awful sentence that plagued the most benign and innocent parts of our population.
Russia, Germany and Japan loomed as new powers that threatened the world order, which would not be known or manifested for sure until the 1940s and thereafter.
But the United States had baseball, and the Bambino long ball of the Yankees, which must have helped a few million beleaguered citizens have a little ray of optimism and respite despite overall dark forebodings of our young men going off to fight another overseas tyranny, many never to return. While most of their bodies were at least recovered for proper burials, many thousands have never been discovered to this day.
Babe Ruth finished his hallmark career in 1935, the middle of the Great Depression, but had left the hugely towering feat of 714 career home runs. The Bambino was the closest thing we had to a real life Superman.
Threats and dangers and depressive finances raged in the 1930s and 1940s, but hope had rays of light in the fanciful swings and pitches of the green ball park and neatly manicured diamond of our biggest industrial cities. The poor, hard working class had reasons to treasure as they came home from the five o'clock working bell. Kids would do the same from their days of schooling. Mothers and daughters could share in the excitement, although baseball has been a "sport of men", the game of the strongest and fleetest.
Racial separation had been a plague of the United States for all of its existence.
And then Jackie Robinson and the rest of integration became a reality and the sport of baseball truly did become the national pastime, offering a chance for every US citizen to become its best and brightest.
Which is what Hank Aaron, Junior (played 1954-1976) did to prove that blacks belonged; they always had, but his numbers proved it. Baseball confirmed that fact and celebrated it. Aaron, a southern African-American consistent home run hitter, proved to be the best career home run hitter of all time in 1974. America had finally arrived at what it pretended to be in 1776. All men were created equal, and the Louisville slugger helped prove it.
Baseball offered a chance to live the dream of Martin Luther King and all true Americans: we earn our glory through hard work, dedication and merit. And some luck. Aaron stayed healthy. Hank kept his eye on the ball. For a long time. He did it!
Disease and poverty and misfortune can be overcome.
Thanks, baseball. And thanks to the family and coaches and teammates of Hammerin' Hank. You gave us a national treasure that is hard to understand and truly fathom as to its import as to who we are as a people. Black or white, we earn our rewards and glories as equals.
Fast forward to the days of Barry Bonds, Junior, (played 1986-2007) and it was not so much about race but about ethics. Did he use illegal drugs to boost his strength and stunning late career numbers? He did. Like other power hitters Sammy Sosa, Mark McGuire, probably Rafael Palmeiro and a few others with prodigious power numbers since the 1990s.
Bonds did surpass Aaron (and notably Ruth before him) by the late summer of 2007, but it was tainted. Stained, tarnished, not right.
Bonds did get the career home run record at a high price, his and all of baseball integrity, and that does not sit right with many. Many who continue to believe the game is pure, that is a standard of truth.
So we await another king, a truer, righter champion of the home run. Not bulked out (i.e. drug juiced) Barry.
It could now be Alex Rodriguez (playing since 1994 to present) or Albert Pujols (playing since 2001), and the latter would be more welcome since A-Rod, most recently a Yankee has been punished for also using booster drugs, missing all of the 2014 season in result of the sanctions attributed to that accusation and sentence. A bit like Barry but tempered with a season punished by banishment. He is 40 years-old now, as opposed to Albert being 35 and still having spark in his bat in 2015. Both are Latino, which would be the way our country moves: we progress on to the new cultures, this 21st century perhaps being the age of the Latino. And now we have supremely talented East Asians in the mix, too. Baseball is a world sport and fair.
Looking down the road, there are some promising prospects to be the new Sultan, the new Hammerin' legend. With no caveats and asterisks, no rumors of foul play and unnaturally bulging muscles and necks. There is an incredibly gifted player named Giancarlo Stanton, and a few others in their thirties who show some promise.
Doing it the right way.
I hope we are all around in the next decades to see how those homers will fly. And how the lists will change.
And who will be the new all-time great in our lifetime? Could it be Mike, or Bryce? Or is it someone else...
Baseball will keep track, and fans will let you know. And people across the world will start to care more than before, like they do about the Olympics or the soccer World Cup.
Swing for the seats, players, and keep your eyes on the prize. Play it right.
Thanks again, baseball. Thanks for letting a game show us that playing hard and fair offers its rewards for those who are not afraid of defeat. We can swing for the fences and overcome.
And dreaming and hoping come about every spring and fall.
Blog on, EMC.
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