The High Court

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Hall of Justice

 

If Hammerin’ Hank and his fellow Hall of Famers were in charge of the voting for Cooperstown the world would be a much better place…

(baseballhalloffame.org)

June 6, 2005

 

One of my all-time favorite comedians, Dennis Miller (not to be confused with one of my least favorite football announcers, Dennis Miller) had a monologue staple on his HBO show that would begin with him saying, “I don’t want to get off on a rant here, but…” and then he would proceed into his rant.  I always loved Dennis’ rants and his biting, satirical style of humor.  So I am going to paraphrase him and say, “I am absolutely going to get off on a rant here…”

 

In this space last week, I made my argument for Don Mattingly’s case as a Hall of Famer.  In that case, I informed you that when Mattingly first hit the ballot in 2001 he received 145 votes.  I also informed you that in 2005 he received exactly 59 votes, or a drop off of 86 votes.  I questioned what had happened to the 86 men who had previously voted for him (lost their vote…their mind), but added the ridiculous Hall voting rules were also potentially a contributing factor.  The rule that puts me in an especially foul mood is one that says voters can vote for only ten players per year.  I know what you are thinking:  Hey Chief, what if there are fifteen deserving players on the ballot?  Tough.  Ten get votes.  The other five stand out in the rain.  And ten players get votes only if the writers have enough sense to vote for all of them.  I will elaborate more on that scenario a bit later.  But here’s the deal:  The Baseball Hall of Fame has such a flawed electoral process that it should be totally revamped.  The current format puts the power to elect into the wrong people’s hands and does so with a format that is totally absurd.  I feel a rant coming on…

 

The voting pool for the Hall consists of members of the Baseball Writers’ Association of America (or BBWAA…don’t even get me started on that acronym) that have covered Major League Baseball for at least ten years.  A small group of the eligible voters function as a screening committee for the final ballot.  A player must receive votes on 40% of ballots cast by the screening committee to get on the final ballot.  Once a player reaches the final ballot he must receive votes on 75% of the ballots to gain induction into the Hall of Fame.

 

As you might guess, getting 75% of the vote is tougher than it sounds.  And these pit bull guardians of Cooperstown take very seriously their duty of weeding out any unworthy candidates.  They have no intention of doing anything that might dilute the glory of the Hall or make it look silly.  Or so they would have us believe.  I did just a little research (going back through three years of voting results) before I had to stop from being sick at my stomach.  From what I found, it is quite clear that many voters have no business being in position to decide who receives baseball’s highest honors.

 

In 2003, Danny Tartabull received a vote for the Hall of Fame.  Now if you are nothing more than a casual baseball fan, the only way you may know Danny Tartabull is from his appearance on Seinfeld.  He was, actually, a very fine right-handed slugger.  He was a big leaguer for parts of 14 seasons and hit 262 homers with 925 rbi.  But he isn’t a Hall of Famer.  Not even close.  So why did he get a vote?  Remember, voters can only vote for up to ten players.  It would seem then that you shouldn’t waste any of those votes, not even because you liked a guy and want to see him receive a vote.  Where is the integrity of the process?  But it gets better…or not.  In 2004, Juan Samuel (no, I am not making him up) received two votes.  Samuel, who played 16 seasons, was a lifetime .259 hitter, with 161 home runs and 703 rbi.  He was quite a stolen base artist early in his career (swiping as many as 72 in a single season) and finished with 396 steals.  But he wasn’t a Hall of Famer.  Not even close.  So why burn the vote?  Voters have a limit on how many they can vote for, but they do not have to vote for any players.  Zero.  Nada.  Zilch.

 

Now here’s a real good example of how not to use your Hall voting privileges:  Jim Eisenreich.  In 2004, Eisenreich received three votes.  Now Jim Eisenreich was a solid left-handed bat for parts of 15 seasons, and he overcame some health problems (most notably a very difficult battle with Tourette’s Syndrome) to have a quality career.  But he never drove in more than 59 runs in a season.  FIFTY-NINE!  And I don’t know which to ask first:  Why did he get three votes?  Or, why did he get through to the final ballot?  Did forty percent of the screening committee believe that Jim Eisenreich was Hall of Fame worthy?  If that is the case, I am guessing we are talking about a committee of five, with two members being from Jim’s family.  When the baseball writers simply throw Hall of Fame votes around in such a manner, they are showing complete disrespect for all of the players in the Hall, on the ballot, and the process itself.  It is inexcusable.

 

I could go on, telling you about Tom Candiotti getting two votes (career record…151-164) or Otis Nixon getting to the final ballot (where, remarkably, he got shut out), but I need to spend another minute letting you in on how asinine the voters can be.  In 2004, former Big Red Machine shortstop Dave Concepcion received 57 votes for the Hall.  Two-time NL MVP Dale Murphy tallied 43 votes.  Seriously.  Amazingly, Murphy closed the gap to one in 2005, as Concepcion edged him 55-54.  Just so you know, I do not begrudge Dave Concepcion one single vote.  He was a nine-time All-Star, and he won five Gold Gloves.  He was an integral part of one of baseball’s finest squads, and he was perhaps the finest defensive shortstop of the 1970’s.  He probably deserves another 100 votes every year.  But Dale Murphy won two MVP awards.  You have to be pretty good to win those, you know?  Murphy was an All-Star seven times and won five Gold Gloves in centerfield.  He led the NL in home runs, rbi, and slugging twice.  Murphy also led the league in extra base hits, intentional walks, runs, total bases, and walks once each.  I think it is fairly safe to say that from 1982 to 1987 every general manager in baseball would have tabbed Murph as one of the top ten players in the game.  I am not saying he is a slam dunk Hall of Fame choice, but he is very close.  And he is definitely worthy of more respect than he is shown by the sorry group known as Hall of Fame electors.

 

I can hear the wheels spinning for those of you steeped in knowledge of how the Hall of Fame works.  Isn’t there another way in?  Right you are.  The Committee on Baseball Veterans.  The Veterans Committee consists of all members of the National Baseball Hall of Fame (we assume they mean all living members), all recipients of the J.G. Taylor Spink Award (for journalism), and all recipients of the Ford C. Frick Award (for broadcasting).  This is a great committee.  Who knows Hall of Famers better than Hall of Famers?  Nobody.  But, there is a problem.  A player has to be retired 21 years before they are eligible to come before the Veterans Committee.  This means that some players, if they are fortunate enough to be elected in this manner, could well be dead by the time they receive the honor. 

 

The relationship between players and the media that covers them has undergone a radical transformation over the last several decades.  Beat writers and players once spent time together in bars, in restaurants, and trains.  There was a fraternal feel to the relationship, as reporters once went to great length to keep players from being portrayed in a negative light.  Perhaps they were too close.  Who is to say?  That is clearly not a problem any longer.  The relationship between the media and the players they cover today is far from fraternal.  Antagonistic might be a better word.  And certainly it isn't true for all players or all reporters.  But as players and reporters have been driven apart by their difference in socioeconomic status (keep in mind players once made little more than reporters), they have also been driven apart by the media’s desire to make news rather than simply report it.  No longer would a beat wire cover for the missteps of a player.  Now it is Page One news in five seconds.

 

This antagonistic relationship has made it seem if the BBWAA guards the doors to Cooperstown with jealously and resentment.  Where once the voters seemingly happily welcomed players to the hall, they now seem to treat the elections as an “Over my dead body” situation.  We can agree that high standards should be kept when considering who belongs in Cooperstown.  It is truly hallowed ground for the baseball community.  But we want it to be decided by a truly knowledgeable and truly objective group of electors.  How do we reconcile this situation?

 

Do not despair.  The Chief Justice has a solution.  How about a new name for the Veterans Committee?  Drum roll please…The National Baseball Hall of Fame Election Committee.  Hey baseball writers, you want a vote for the Hall of Fame process?  It is really simple.  Just be good enough at your job to get induction into the Hall yourself.  That should weed out the morons who vote for the likes of Jim Eisenreich and Danny Tartabull.  If Peter Gammons and Hal McCoy are voting, then I feel good about the process.  If legendary broadcasters like Ernie Harwell and Vin Scully are weighing in, that’s good enough for me.  And nothing would make me feel better than to see the keys to Cooperstown handed to the following gentlemen:  Hank Aaron…Johnny Bench…Lou Brock…Willie Mays…Joe Morgan…Stan Musial…Nolan Ryan…Tom Seaver.  You give the vote to all of the living members of the National Baseball Hall of Fame, and then, and maybe only then, will you see true justice in Cooperstown.

 

 

 

(This column was contributed to by the Honorable Powdered Wig)