COMMENTARY : To Dream, Perchance to Argue ‘All-Time’

Who am I? I batted .251 this year, .250 in 1990, .257 in 1989, .264 in 1988 and .252 in 1987. Who am I?

Adm. Stockdale.

Come on, be serious. Who am I?

I’m the shortstop on Sports Illustrated’s all-time baseball Dream Team.

“Cal Ripken? Cal Ripken? Are you kidding me?”

The Washington Post’s Mike “That Toddlin’ Town” Wilbon was incensed. He, of course, wanted Ernie Banks. (At third he wanted Ron Santo.)

“Anybody but Ripken,” he said. “The guy had two great years. Two. How does he get to be the greatest shortstop of all time?”

I pointed out that Ripken is an excellent fielder, and has excellent power for a shortstop. Wilbon countered that Ernie Banks had more homers, more power and a higher average when he played short.

But neither Ripken nor Banks could touch Honus Wagner, with a .327 lifetime batting average, and seven straight years where his lowest average was .339.

How does SI leave off Honus Wagner?

I called Bob Broeg--Broeg On Baseball in the Sporting News--who has covered baseball for 50 years, mainly for the St. Louis Post Dispatch, and asked him. “I don’t see how you can beat Honus Wagner. I don’t care what anybody says,” Broeg said.

SI’s current issue--where writers Steve Wulf (baseball), Jack McCallum (basketball), E.M. Swift (hockey) and Paul Zimmerman (football) pick their all-time Dream Teams--gives rise to all sorts of fun arguments. For example, Wulf has Mickey Cochrane at catcher and not Johnny Bench (“I believe Bench is the best ever, and as an old geezer that’s hard for me to say,” said Broeg), Ty Cobb in left instead of Ted Williams.

“Ted Williams is the greatest hitter of all time,” Wilbon said, “Plus, he lost five seasons to military service in two wars IN HIS PRIME. If he played straight through, he’d have had 700 homers. Williams has to be in left.”

“Cobb had a .367 lifetime average--.367!” I said.

“Stop it,” Wilbon said, dismissing me. “Right now, if you have one game to play, who are you putting out there?”

“Right now . . . Williams,” I said. “Because Cobb is dead. Williams may be slow getting to the ball, but Cobb has no chance whatsoever.”

Fortunately, Shirley Povich was in the office. And we drew on his 70 years of elegant sportswriting. Though he favored Joe DiMaggio in center over Willie Mays (as did Broeg; a coin flip, everybody conceded), Shirley affirmed most of SI’s everyday players. He could not, however, abide the pitchers. Shirley insisted Walter Johnson “crushed” Christy Mathewson, and he chose Lefty Grove over Warren Spahn. “I was once talking to Walter Johnson,” Shirley said--and how many of us can say that?--”and I asked, ‘Is this kid Feller as fast as you?’ And he said, ‘No . . . and he’s not as fast as Lefty Grove either.’ ”

Moving to basketball, it’s excruciating for me to face the possibility that Oscar Robertson, the most complete player ever, is no longer a first-team guard on the all-time team.

“Oscar would check Jordan right out of the game,” I challenged Wilbon, who was, of course, gloating that Robertson had been nudged by a Chicago guy.

“This is Oscar guarding Jordan,” Wilbon said, standing flat-footed, rolling his eyes toward heaven, as if helplessly watching His Airness leap over him.

No Oscar. No West. Oh, the pain . . . and age I feel.

So I called America’s Quintessential Sportswriter, Bob Ryan of the Boston Globe, to see if he agreed with SI’s choices.

“They got the players right,” Ryan said, noting the obvious mistake of naming Pat Riley coach instead of Red Auerbach.

“Russell over Chamberlain?” I asked . . . covering my head for the anticipated onslaught to come from Boston’s own scribe.

“It’s not about numbers,” Ryan said. “Chamberlain outscored him two to one, and outrebounded him head-to-head. But when it came to winning the ballgame, Russell knew how to do it, and Chamberlain never figured it out.”

(FYI: Ryan insists “indisputably the most influential player of all time” was Bill Walton, but concedes that his short career disqualifies him from the all-time team.)

SI’s football choices proved the most controversial. One of Dr. Z’s defensive ends, Denver’s Rich Jackson, drew a blank here, until one of our esteemed staffers, Julian Rubinstein, who lived in Colorado, sang out, “Tombstone Jackson--where runners go to die.” Apparently, he’s a cult pick.

I called Steve Sabol of NFL Films and Frank Gifford, Cody’s dad, to bounce Dr. Z’s picks off them. They liked Deacon Jones at defensive end, and Sabol even admired Dr. Z for choosing Tombstone Jackson. But Sabol preferred Gino Marchetti, and Gifford went for Reggie White. Neither of the defensive tackles, nor any of the linebackers drew the ire of Sabol and Gifford; indeed, Sabol reverently called Dick Butkus “the single most substantial work of devastation ever committed to any sport, in any place, any time, anywhere.”

Sabol and Gifford agreed Ronnie Lott belonged at safety ahead of Cliff Harris, and Herb Adderly belonged at cornerback with Night Train Lane. (“If they were playing today, they would be fined more than they earned, because neither made a tackle below the jaw line,” Sabol said.)

On offense, they were more divergent. Gifford replaced Dave Casper at tight end with Mike Ditka. (Which will make Ditka’s biggest fan, Wilbon, ecstatic; I can see him genuflecting on Rush Street now.) Sabol replaced Dwight Stephenson at center with Mel Hein. Gifford and Sabol agreed on Art Shell, but Gifford said Anthony Munoz should be the other tackle, and Sabol chose Forrest Gregg.

No arguments at guard. No arguments at one running back--Jim Brown. (“He should be both backs,” Gifford said. “When I was playing, he’s the only player I ever stood and watched in awe.”) Gifford had no problem with Dr. Z picking Marion Motley at the other back; Sabol took Walter Payton.

Interestingly, Sabol said he preferred Otto Graham over Johnny Unitas at quarterback. “He took his team to a championship game every year he played,” Sabol said. Gifford was satisfied with Unitas, remembering that raw December afternoon in 1958: “He beat us in sudden death. I’ll stick with him.”

The position where both men emphatically disagreed with Dr. Z was at wide receiver. Dr. Z chose Don Hutson and Lance Alworth, both fine men. Sabol said lyrically of Alworth, “He ran patterns like a guy being chased by a wolf.”

But how do you leave off Jerry Rice?

“He’s the best, without question,” Gifford said.

Gifford would pair Rice with Raymond Berry. Sabol, with Alworth.

I’m still looking up Tombstone Jackson.