Players who have tarnished the game should not be honored by it as well.
Contrary to popular opinion, few among us in media like playing God.
Some of us who love baseball would much prefer Hall of Fame choices based on statistics and treasured contributions to the sport. We have not been afforded that luxury.
That is why, as I cast my official ballot this week, I will take on the the admittedly unscientific task of casting moral judgments by separating the Steroid Guys from the rest, leaving out the first group and attempting to be objective with the others.
Why? Because there were “others,” an entire group of players who spurned the temptation to use performance enhancing drugs (PEDs) and competed against players they knew were using them.
I cannot look at those players (albeit from afar) and cast a vote that essentially tells them, “your mistake.”
I am not torn by the question of whether to consider the steroid matter. I am offended as a voter and a baseball fan that I must.
So, sorry, Roger Clemens, no go. You, too, Barry Bonds and Sammy Sosa.
The evidence in their cases is strong. Whether it would hold up in a court of law is not my assignment.
My assignment as one of hundreds of voters is to examine where all these candidates stand in relation to baseball history, and vote with respect to fairness and objectivity. It’s not easy.
I have heard that the Steroid Era is a part of history, and that baseball’s museum should therefore not turn a blind eye to it. I agree.
Put up an exhibit in Cooperstown, or a full wing if you’d like, that documents the era and the PED influence. You will hear no dispute from me.
Documenting history can be done without making a special point to honor those who tarnished it.
As a colleague told me, these guys made choices, and with choices are supposed to come consequences. I think we are losing that in this country, or at least compromising it to a sad degree.
That may be why Cooperstown is one of the very last American institutions still treated with reverence.
I don’t consider that antiquated or old-fashioned. I think it is worth defending and protecting, as best we can.
This year’s ballot has its share of dicey choices that don’t even involve steroids.
Take Craig Biggio. The argument against him is that hanging around long enough to collect 3,000 hits should not be a pass to immortality.
Maybe, but look at those who have done it. Every name is special, and I have no urge to declare Biggio the first exception, so I am voting for him.
I also consider what I call the Grimace Test. If a player’s legacy allows true baseball fans to smile at the contributions he left the sport, that does not win a spot for an undeserving player but does work on his behalf.
If the reaction to a great player is a wince or a grimace, as it is with several of the biggest names, why are we compelled to honor that?
The Grimace Test is not my bottom line. It is my way or explaining my attempt to measure a player in relation to the annals of his sport, which is much of what Cooperstown is all about.
A plaque is an honor based on achievement, but it is an honor, nonetheless. It is earned, not owed, a salute and not a right.
If the Hall of Fame is nothing more than a catalogue of great stats, plug all the numbers into a computer and don’t waste the voters’ time.
Until then, the voters should be allowed some human opinion, with the caveat that they apply it as objectively and consistently as possible.
How subjective is it? I am voting for Jeff Bagwell, whose name has been constantly linked with steroids.
Bagwell’s name has never shown up on any list, from the Mitchell Report on down, to give substance to the rumors. Pure rumor isn’t enough, but I think the suspicions against players like Bonds and Clemens are built on more substantial grounds.
The hardest choice of all is Mike Piazza. He has worthy numbers for any player, but especially for a catcher.
The steroid evidence against him is flimsier than against the Bonds-Clemens-Sosa troika, but there is more here than in Bagwell’s case.
The case includes quotes from unnamed sources attributed to Piazza, which were deemed “off the record,” that he admitted using steroids. But he never failed a test or showed up on a report.
I just don’t feel right about it. If Piazza falls short, I will have 14 years to change my mind, and I reserve the right.
The easy solution is to ignore the PED issue altogether. I can’t reconcile doing that.
I am well aware that some of those already enshrined in Cooperstown have been outed as scumbags. One argument for admitting steroid users is this: “The behavioral bar was always low. We just didn’t know it.”
My answer is this: “Now that we are more aware, why not try to raise the bar? Why is that so wrong?”
Besides, I didn’t vote for the scoundrels, cheats and racists who got in during the not-so-good-old-days.
But I vote now, I factor in PED’s, and I will until I am told I must turn a blind eye to it. If that happens, I will respectfully and voluntarily forfeit my privilege to vote.
That’s not the case now, so here goes:
YES: Fred McGriff (yes, I’m serious), Jack Morris, Tim Raines, Bagwell and Biggio.
McGriff had 493 home runs – tied with Lou Gehrig.
McGriff will never make it, but remove all the steroid guys, and 493 (which is 111 more than Jim Rice) is easily a Hall of Fame number.
Morris won 254 games. He was terrific under pressure, and that should matter.
I voted for McGriff and Morris last year. I can’t logically endorse them in 2011 but reject them now.
Many of Raines’ numbers (though not batting average) compare favorably with Tony Gwynn, and Raines had more power.
Raines stole 808 bases, fourth best in the sport since 1900. Had he enjoyed the same career in New York or Boston, he’d be in already.
OUT ON PED QUESTIONS: Bonds, Clemens, Sosa, Mark McGwire, Piazza (though I feel uneasy about this one), and Palmeiro.
MAYBE NEXT YEAR: Curt Schilling’s 216 wins are low for the Hall, but he was great in the clutch. A definite maybe next year.
Lee Smith is third all-time in saves. Maybe that should impact me more than it does, but “all time” for this statistic really means post-1980.
Edgar Martinez was a master batsman, and I’m past whatever anti-DH sentiment I might have once had. Martinez’ case grows with the use of modern sabermetrics, notably on-base percentage and OPS (on base plus slugging). I’m still thinking about it.
NOT QUITE: Dale Murphy played 18 years, but was great for only a stretch in the 1980s and hit .265 lifetime.
Larry Walker, Alan Trammell, Bernie Williams and Don Mattingly have their backers. David Wells won more games than Schilling (239-216).
There are 38 players on the ballot. We’ll skip past Aaron Sele, Todd Walker, Jeff Cirillo and the like.
It’s a hard ballot, made harder by the steroid issue. You have my vote and my reasons, and if you feel otherwise, I respect that.
Just remember that it wasn’t the voters who created this controversy, but players who made choices and now face the consequences.