One man's Hall-of-Fame ballot
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BlogJam...
Ken Rosenthal's ballot is in, but there's plenty of room for debate. Who is being left out of the Hall? Who will get in, but doesn't deserve it? Tell us what you think. More baseball |
I would be a strict constructionalist, holding candidates to the most exacting standards.
I would not choose any player who sparked even a minimum of debate.
Well, I'm here to tell you, it's not that simple.
First off, voters face a near-overwhelming responsibility, knowing their selections will shape baseball history.
Second, voters compare players not only to their peers, but actual Hall of Famers, some of whom were dubious selections.
In other words, if Phil Rizzuto is in, how can Alan Trammell not be? Or, for that matter, Dave Concepcion?
Voters can't correct past mistakes; nor should they use them to rationalize future votes (i.e., Ty Cobb was a jerk; therefore, every modern-day creep gets a pass).
The Hall instructs voters to consider a player's character, integrity and sportsmanship along with his ability, performance record and contributions to his team(s).
I generally don't hold a player's perceived negative character against him. But I will give "extra credit," if you will, to a player who elevated the sport with his dignity and class.
The two leading candidates this year, Cal Ripken and Tony Gwynn, are certain to be elected not only because they were great players, but also because they were great representatives of the game.
In the end, all voters can do is summon their memories, consider the relevant statistics and vote with their consciences.
My 2007 ballot:
Absolutely.
Ripken is one of only eight players and the only one who spent the bulk of his career at shortstop to surpass 400 homers and 3,000 hits.
A cynic might suggest that those totals merely are products of his longevity, but Ripken's managers always wanted him on the field.
Why?
Because Ripken was a difference-maker defensively even when he wasn't hitting, positioning himself brilliantly to compensate for any shortcomings in range, always making the right play.
By proving that a 6-foot-4 man could play shortstop, Ripken created opportunities for other tall men who wanted to play the position most notably, future Hall of Famers Derek Jeter and Alex Rodriguez.
Gwynn had a higher career slugging percentage than Ripken, not to mention two comparable Hall of Famers, Rod Carew and Wade Boggs.
He once stole five bases in a game, tying a major-league record. And, lest anyone forget, he also won five Gold Gloves in right field.
Today's walk-obsessed statistical analysts might quibble with Gwynn's low walk totals, but he struck out even less than he walked. His lifetime batting average was .338, his on-base percentage .388.
Nitpick that.
During his era, Trammell was overshadowed by Ripken offensively and by Tony Fernandez defensively. He wasn't as good as the Reds' Barry Larkin.
Still, he's one of the top 10 shortstops of all time.
It drives Tigers fans nuts and understandably so that no member of the team's '84 World Series championship club is in the Hall of Fame.
Jack Morris received 41.2 percent of the vote last year, still far short of the necessary 75 percent required for induction.
Trammell has topped out at 17.7 percent in his five years on the ballot.
I don't vote for Morris because I think his career 3.90 ERA would establish a bad precedent. But it's outrageous that Lou Whitaker dropped off the ballot after failing to receive the necessary five percent of the vote in his first year of eligibility and inexplicable that Trammell does not receive more support.
How about stop penalizing them?
Dennis Eckersley is in, Bruce Sutter is in and other top closers should be in, too.
The argument against Smith is understandable: The save is a dubious statistic, and his candidacy is based on his 478 career saves, second all-time to Trevor Hoffman.
Well, if protecting ninth-inning leads were so easy, teams wouldn't scramble to find closers who achieve year-to-year consistency.
Players who were the best at their roles whether they be shortstops, closers, or designated hitters should be Hall of Famers.
Smith was one of the best of his era, if not the best.
Bill James, in The New Bill James Historical Baseball Abstract, rates Gossage the 37th-best pitcher of all time and Sutter the 57th.
That's "best pitcher," not "best reliever" and few who saw Gossage would argue. Scowling behind his Fu Manchu mustache, he was an absolute menace in his prime.
"The Goose" pitched in the 1970s and '80s, when closers were hardy sorts who actually worked more than one inning. His career lasted 22 seasons, or 10 more than Sutter's. And from 1977 to '85, he posted a 2.10 ERA.
Gossage also was terrific in '75, and might have produced 11 straight brilliant seasons rather than nine if White Sox manager Paul Richards hadn't made the ill-advised decision to use him a starter in '76.
"The Hawk" also was an eight-time Gold Glove winner in right field while playing through chronic knee pain. He commanded immense respect even reverence from both teammates and opponents.
Dawson's career OBP was a paltry .323, but I'm not sure that should be held against him; OBP wasn't valued as highly during Dawson's time as it is today.
Rice was the anti-Dawson, lacking speed, playing only average defense. He also was far more productive at Fenway Park than on the road. Yet, he was arguably the best hitter in the AL from 1975 to '86.
I explained my thinking on Rice at greater length in .
The difference is that Blyleven is fifth all-time in strikeouts and ninth in shutouts. His career ERA was 18 percent better than an average pitcher in his league, according to park-adjusted figures on baseball-reference.com. John was 11 percent better, Kaat 7 percent.
Blyleven almost certainly would have reached 300 victories, an unofficial Hall standard, if he had received greater run support and pitched in less hitter-friendly home parks.
Ken Rosenthal is FOXSports.com's senior baseball writer.

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