The late Dr. Frank Jobe, who never threw a pitch in the major leagues, has nonetheless been honored with displays and events at the Baseball Hall of Fame.
But Doctor Jobe is not a Hall inductee and has no bronze plaque hanging there.
Neither does his most famous patient, the late Dodgers and Yankees pitcher Tommy John, who died last month at 83.
Doctor Jobe famously saved John’s career with pioneering elbow surgery in 1974.
Today, “Tommy John Surgery” is recognized as having reshaped modern baseball history – it’s estimated that at all levels, some 2,500 professional ballplayers have used it over the ensuing 52 years, including Tanner Houck of our Red Sox, currently rehabbing, and former Sox ace Chris Sale.
So the question arises: Why is this restorative technique named for the patient, and not for the surgeon who created it?
Doctor Jobe reportedly tired of explaining his revolutionary surgery as an “ulnar collateral ligament reconstruction of the elbow using an ipsilateral palmaris longus tendon graft.”
Instead, he began referring to it as “the surgery I performed on Tommy John.” Soon, “Tommy John Surgery” was part of everyday language.
Doctor Jobe, who died in 2014, also felt that attaching his own name to the procedure would downplay the bravery shown by John in undergoing a risky and unproven procedure.
As for courage, Doctor Jobe had plenty of it himself. He had no bronze plaque, but he did have a Bronze Star. He won that in World War II as a medical sergeant with the 101st Airborne Division, landing by glider in Normandy and later escaping brief capture during the Battle of the Bulge.
Doctor Jobe isn’t eligible for Hall of Fame membership because the Hall currently limits its candidates to those with direct baseball contact such as players, managers, umpires, and executives.
Fans and the media still debate whether Tommy John himself belongs in the hall, but regardless, his name is part of baseball history.
Other players have also left their names welded on the baseball lexicon. We in New England are most familiar with Pesky’s Pole, the short-distance right field foul pole at Fenway Park named for infielder Johnny Pesky.
Legend has it that Pesky, who hit just 17 home runs his ten-year career, once hit a game-winner that curled around the fair side of the pole.
The old Yankee Stadium was often referred to as “The house that Ruth built,” and in other ballparks various structures are named for hometown heroes including Jackie Robinson, Roberto Clemente, and Ralph Kiner.
It’s ironic that one baseball player whose name permanently endures is recognized not for achievement, but for futility.
The upside-down accolade belongs to Mario Mendoza, a weak-hitting shortstop who played for several teams over nine years and was the inspiration for creation of the “Mendoza Line.”
This inglorious benchmark signifies a batting average of below .200 – really, really bad.
To give Mendoza his due, his lifetime average was .215, but in five of his nine seasons he failed to reach .200. Colleagues in the game came up with the “Mendoza Line” after he hit .198 for the Seattle Mariners in 1979.
Mendoza understandably disliked the term, but its attraction in establishing a minimum performance standard has hopscotched into the vocabularies of business, politics, and other sports.
So, my takeaways from all this:
– Doctor Jobe and Tommy John both deserve plaques in the Baseball Hall of Fame.
– We all loved Johnny Pesky.
– And, just to show we might find positives among frailties if we only look for them: Mario Mendoza was an excellent defensive shortstop.
Gerry Goldstein (gerryg76@verizon.net), a frequent contributor, is a retired Providence Journal editor and columnist.
