Now, here are the shortest possible (though unconfirmed) infields all time:

The shortest possible infields since 1900:

The shortest possible since 1950:

Here are the tallest possible infields of all time:

The tallest possible infields before 1950:

The tallest possible infields before 1900:

Ok, if you've made it this far, hopefully I have some payoff for you. I ran the numbers for all teams to find the average height of each team's starting lineup. I adjusted the numbers for the major-league average for the given year since players have been growing gradually over the last 150 years. (Note that I included just those teams for which we have demographic for at least 5 starters.)

First, here are the shortest teams based on the average height for all starting position players (no adjustment for era):

Here are the tallest:

Now, here are the shortest adjusted for era:

Here are the tallest adjusted by era:

Finally, I wanted to see if height had any connection to winning. I took the winning percentage and position in the standings for each team against the adjusted height and average height. And…drum roll, please…I got a big fat goose egg. The adjusted height had absolutely nothing to do with team winning percentage (coefficient 0.0005). Neither did position (0.0084). Using the average height for the team's starting position players, there was no relationship to winning percentage (0.0074) or position (-0.1775). These no relationship whatsoever.

So what does it all mean? Talent wins. It doesn't matter if a team's short or tall. If they're good, they win. I guess that should be self evident, but I was surprised to find that bigger teams didn't dominate in some way especially in the steroid era. And before you say that the juice doesn't make players taller just bigger, consider that I ran similar correlations for weight and found that there was ever-so-slightly more of a relationship, but still, no strong correlation. George Mitchell, take that and stick it in your report.