Santana and Koufax, transcendent lefties, had careers that nearly mirrored each other.

John G Zimmerman/Sports Illustrated; AP Photo/Kathy Kmonicek. Good Fundies Illustration

Let me be clear here at the outset: Sandy Koufax is a Hall of Famer and one of the all-time greats.

BUT!

He is also the prime example of a unique phenomenon: the notion that, if a great player’s career is cut short by something tragic or out of his control, that he should get credit for that when all is said and done.

Among post-World War II starters in the Hall of Fame, Koufax ranks dead last in wins (he is 64th of 75 overall, ahead of only dead-ballers like Addie Joss, relievers like Bruce Sutter, and outliers Babe Ruth and Satchel Paige). Koufax is 53rd in WAR, 66th in innings, and appeared in just seven All Star Games.

But he’s Sandy Koufax. Nobody has any doubt that Sandy Koufax was one of the best to ever play and, if he’d stuck around, that he would have continued to dominate. After all, he went out on top — he won the pitching Triple Crown (ERA/Wins/Strikeouts) going 27–9 and winning the Cy Young Award in his final season.