Johan Santana was scratched for the remainder of the Venezuelan Winter League. You might not have even been aware that he was making a comeback, but he was. He has been making the eternal comeback since 2012. The last time Santana threw more than 200 innings, he was teammates with Pedro Martinez, but he keeps trying. He's not retired yet, no sir. Santana is the same age as Chris Young, who came back from the void. Root for him to come back and amaze us all.

So forgive me if this comes off like a eulogy. That's not the intent. But another injury for Santana doesn't exactly lead you toward the sunnier thoughts. This could be it for him, which means it's time to ask the most obvious of questions: Is he a Hall of Famer?

Career wins above replacement (FanGraphs)

Jack Morris: 52.7

Johan Santana: 47.3

Oh. Guess we're finished here. How's your 2015 going? Boy, can't believe January is almost over. Funny weather we're having.

Except, wait a second. I enjoy using WAR as a one-stop shop for park-adjusted, league-adjusted, era-adjusted numbers, but that's not where the argument should end for anyone. Jimmy Wynn didn't get a single danged vote when he was on the Hall of Fame ballot, even though he finished with a higher career WAR than Kirby Puckett. So did Brian Giles, Kenny Lofton, Jack Clark and Chet Lemon, all one-and-done players. But I'll still argue on behalf of Puckett. He was synonymous with '80s and early '90s baseball, a 10-time consecutive All-Star. He was a star made of hydrogen, helium, .330 averages and we'll-see-you-tomorrow-night.

You might not agree. Over 82 percent of the BBWAA did on the first ballot. And then you were like, "WAR, what is it g

Back to Santana. His truncated career is a problem for his Hall chances. It might be enough of a problem to make potential voters not even take the time to look at his stats. As in, why bother? That guy can't be a contender. He didn't pitch a full season after turning 31. And, to support that point, here are pitchers with more career value according to Baseball-Reference:

Kenny Rogers

Orel Hershiser

David Wells

Dave Stieb

Chuck Finley

Rick Reuschel

Bret Saberhagen

Jerry Koosman

It's an incomplete list. Excluding pitchers who have never appeared on a ballot and Roger Clemens, there are 25 pitchers with more career WAR than Santana who aren't in the Hall of Fame, a lot of whom fell off the first ballot.

Which means if you're making an argument for Santana, you have to invoke the Puckett Clause. Did he define the game for you, or some such? Can you give him enough bonus points to justify a vote? Before you answer, there's one last comparison to make:



Johan Santana Sandy Koufax WAR 51 53 IP 2026 2324 ERA 3.20 2.76 ERA+ 136 131 Wins 139 165 Winning % .641 .655 SO 1988 2396 Cy Young 2 3



Let's reverse-engineer this just a bit: You're not going to argue that Sandy Koufax isn't a Hall of Famer. You're not that silly. His nickname was The Left Arm of God, and that sort of understates things. In his last start of 1966, he struck out Jackie Brandt to complete one of the most brilliant seasons baseball will ever see. It unfortunately completed one of the most brilliant careers baseball will ever see, too, but. Koufax packed so much dominance in his short time as a major league pitcher, that he's a symbol of what the typical inner-circle, first-ballot Hall of Famer should be.

The comparison between the two, at least on career value, is close. What you have to ask is if Santana can match the overwhelming dominance of Koufax in a short period of time, if he was similar to Koufax in the way it seemed like he controlled the physical universe with his mind and made All-Stars and Hall of Famers look like junior varsity players seeing a breaking ball for the first time.

1. No.

2. It was close enough to ask the question.

3. Appreciate Johan Santana's run of dominance more, everyone.

In Koufax's last three seasons, he threw 881 innings, with a 1.85 ERA (176 ERA+), striking out 9.4 batters for every nine innings pitched. In Santana's best three seasons, he threw 693 innings with a 2.75 ERA (166 ERA+), striking out 9.7 batters for every nine innings pitched. Koufax takes him, but it's not the blowout that it looks like with raw ERA. Koufax was pitching in Dodger Stadium in the '60s; Santana was pitching in the Metrodome when offense was still high. Don't forget my favorite toy at Baseball-Reference:

This is why we keep those adjusted ERAs around, because at the time, what Santana was doing was amazing. He was a wonder, a true wonder. And while Koufax also pitched four no-hitters to Santana's one, they're basically tied when you adjust for organization.

A huge difference is that Koufax had one more transcendently brilliant season that isn't included in that cherry-picked paragraph, whereas Santana's next-best season was merely good enough for a third-place Cy Young finish. If you're going to compare the two, you have to do it on career value. Santana can't quite touch that short burst of dominance.

But, well, no one can? I mean, Pedro and Greg Maddux can. Randy Johnson and Roger Clemens. Bob Gibson and Tom Seaver, maybe. But if those are the names that you're throwing out as examples of Koufaxian dominance over a three- or four-year period, isn't the bar set a little high? The fact that Santana sticks around to lose to Koufax on a decision instead of a knockout in the second round means it's worth asking the question.

Which means that Santana was, for that three-year stretch, almost as great as any pitcher in baseball has ever been. For the five years he was an injury-free starter, he was one of the best things about baseball. It was just long enough ago that you can't get great video of his very best stuff -- you'll have to settle for slight dominance from 2007 -- so it's easy to forget his radioactive talent. He can't get into the Hall of Fame under the Koufax Addendum of short-term brilliance, but he can come close.

We weren't asking about the Koufax Addendum. This is about the Puckett Clause. Did Santana pack enough Hall of Fame pitching into his 12 years?

It's a no for me, but it's an on-the-fence no. I'll listen to other arguments patiently, and I might eventually change my mind. But Santana threw 200 innings just five times in his career. Part of that was the slow, deliberate transition from super-swingman to ace that the Twins employed, but it's still not enough. One more jaw-dropping season, one more healthy All-Star season, and maybe I would reconsider.

That season still might come, you know. I'm no doctor. I haven't seen the detailed reports from this latest injury. But two weeks ago, he was looking like he might have a shot.

It's unlikely that we'll be blessed with two or three more good Santana seasons, and to even use the word "unlikely," we're breaking the Rich Harden scale of plausible optimism. Even if it doesn't happen, though, don't forget just how good Santana was. His best years came right before the offensive slowdown, so the raw numbers don't jump out at you. He never led the Twins or Mets to postseason glory, and he was mostly a disappointment for the Mets, considering his contract and their expectations. He might not pass that just-feels-like-it Hall of Fame test that we all arbitrarily consider, the one that got Puckett in on the first ballot.

He was great, though. He was so very great. Take a moment to appreciate Johan Santana, then take another one to send sparkly get-well wishes his way. With a lot of luck, this not-a-eulogy will seem premature by the end of spring training.