|
06 January 2010
Can somebody please explain the baseball Hall of Fame to me?
No, this isn't a "who should be in" argument, because bascially, for the most part, I couldn't care less who is in the MLB Hall of Fame. Sure, it's neat to see guys like Tony Gwynn and Rickey Henderson get in- I grew up watching those guys play. But a great deal of the plaques in Cooperstown mean nothing to me. Seriously- look at some of the members. There's Hugh Duffy and Edward Delahanty in the vaunted 1945 Class. Can anyone tell me anything about either of them without looking it up? What about Albert Barlick? Amos Rusie? Burleigh Grimes? Or my favorite - Henry "Heinie" Manush? Any of those ring a bell?
Doesn't matter. Because that's not the point. The point is that the entire Hall of Fame election process is greatly flawed, at least to me. Because, to me, Hall of Fame voting should be easy. It should be reserved for players who were undeniably great, and if a player is great, it should be obvious to everyone with an understanding of the game. Chances are, if you have to make an argument that a player deserves to be in the Hall, he doesn't. If there's a debate over whether someone was a great player, than in most cases, he probably wasn't. And if he wasn't great enough to get the votes five years after he last picked up a bat or glove, then why would he be any better 10 years later?
Babe Ruth. Mickey Mantle. Sandy Koufax. You mention those names to a baseball expert, and their eyes glaze over as they fondly recall the heroic exploits of these legendary players. There's no discussion about home run to strikeout ratio, no talk about WHIP or any of the other countless statistical measures we use today. Those guys were great players - plain and simple. There's no argument that can be made against them.
So with that in mind...why are players allowed to be on the Hall of Fame ballot so many times? Not to pick on Bert Blyleven, who is probably already having a rough day, but if there's enough debate to keep you out of the Hall for the 12 years through which you've been eligible, then you may not deserve to be in there. The same goes for many of the other players who find themselves falling short of the required votes year after year. If there's enough questions about your greatness, then maybe you weren't all that great.
Now Blyleven was a good pitcher - no doubt. But it's the same song and dance every year. He just makes the talk-radio rounds, touts his statistics, and hopes for the best. But why? If he wasn't good enough in 1998, or 2003, or 2008, then why would he think he's good enough in 2010? He hasn't taken the mound or struck out any more batters since then. So why would he be better in 2010 or 2011 than he was in 2003?
That's where the flaw lies. At this point, it's becoming less and less about Blyleven's statistics or skills, and more about his lobbying ability.Essentially, he just has to get a few more baseball writers to change their opinions, and then BAM! - all of a sudden he's an elite player to be remembered by hundreds of future generations, instead of a good player who might be best known to our generation for using two obscenities during a live broadcast as the Twins announcer.
But does he really want to get into the Hall now? Does he really want to get in based on his ability to lobby writers and promote himself, rather than his pitching ability? Because that's what the system allows right now. First, you have to be good enough to get consideration, which Blyleven certainly was, and then you have 15 years to plead your case for being great.
Maybe I'm being too harsh, or too short-sighted. But my general view of athletes is that you shouldn't have to tell someone how good you are. It should be evident from your play. And if it isn't, if there's room for debate, then maybe you weren't quite as great as you think you were.
But hey - best of luck to Blyleven in 2011 as he takes another year to try to prove how good he was. For his sake, I hope he finally gets in. But for me, I'm not buying it.
