Major League Baseball
Can Hall of Fame save voters from themselves?
Major League Baseball

Can Hall of Fame save voters from themselves?

Updated Mar. 4, 2020 10:20 p.m. ET

As I’ve written a few times, Bob Ryan’s one of the better writers of his generation, and I just wish he’d covered more baseball in his career. Still, he’s a HUGE fan and has written many thousands of words worth reading about sports in his career. In his latest column, Ryan fires a preliminary shot across the bows of every Hall of Fame voter who doesn’t choose Pedro Martinez, presumably because it’s Pedro’s first time on the ballot ...

This nonsense began in 1936. Four of the original 226 voters decided that Ty Cobb was not worthy of a vote. Even more startling to me was the viewpoint of the 11 voters for whom Babe Ruth, the biggest of all sports stars in the entire 20th century, did not pass muster.

The precedent had been set. The years rolled on and the likes of Ted Williams, Bob Feller, Willie Mays, Hank Aaron, Stan Musial, Brooks Robinson, and Johnny Bench failed to receive every available vote.

The highest percentage of all vote-getters was a very good, no-questions-asked Hall of Fame pitcher: Tom Seaver. He received 425 of a possible 430 votes when he was first eligible in 1992. Being No. 1 on this list is quite an honor, but in his case it’s a dubious one. Seaver, as good as he was, should not be No. 1. He should be No. 15 or 20, perhaps, but not No. 1.

I have maintained for years that somewhere between 50 and 75 players have deserved the honor of being unanimous. In other words, you cannot possibly look me in the eye and say that you honestly believe that so-and-so is not Hall of Famer.

I mean, who were the 20 people who didn’t vote for Williams in 1966, the 23 who didn’t vote for Musial in 1969, the 23 who didn’t vote for Mays in 1979, and the nine who didn’t vote for Aaron in 1982? Were they beyond stupid? Or were they the sort who refuse to vote for anyone the first year his name appears on the ballot?

Uh, I think I can answer this one. Considering it was 20 in 1966, 23 in 1969, and 23 again in 1979, I think we might guess these were mostly the same voters, none of whom believed that anyone should be unanimous. Well, except a bunch of them seem to have made an exception for Henry Aaron.

What’s more, I have two quibbles with Ryan’s quibble.

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One, why does it really matter if someone’s unanimous? Wait, I know the answer! It’s because if you didn’t vote for Willie Mays, you shouldn’t have been allowed to vote at all. It’s because if you don’t vote for Randy Johnson – or Pedro Martinez, I guess, although it’s not impossible to argue that Pedro doesn’t belong in Ryan’s group of “somewhere between 50 and 75 players” – you shouldn’t be allowed to vote at all.

But what is a vote for Randy Johnson, but a wasted vote? Going in, you know that Randy Johnson’s going to be elected. As I wrote last week, I have essentially no compunction at all about 11 candidates. You’re allowed to vote for only 10 candidates. If I don’t vote for Johnson – by the way, of course I’m speaking hypothetically, since the Hall of Fame and the BBWAA don’t consider me qualified to vote – then I can vote for Craig Biggio or Tim Raines or John Smoltz or whomever else winds up 11th on my list. I’m not saying this sort of thing has happened often ... but I suspect it happens now more than ever, with the glut of outstanding candidates on the ballot every year. And I’m not convinced that it’s wrong. And it’s possible that voters have been doing this all along. Although I think it was less excusable in the past, when there were rarely more than 10 truly outstanding candidates on the ballot.

Really, then, it comes down to cause. If you’re not voting for Randy Johnson because by golly he’s no Walter Johnson, you really shouldn’t be voting. But if you’re not voting for Randy Johnson because you believe that Randy Johnson doesn’t need your help while Alan Trammell does ... Well, I’m just not sure you’re doing anything wrong.

So there’s that. Then Ryan gets into the real problem with the Hall of Fame ballot:

Voters who have taken this PED issue into consideration have come under attack as being, well, self-righteous. As one who has not yet — yet — voted for any of the above-named individuals, I take offense.

--snip--

I care about the sport and the voting process. I don’t like being attacked simply on the basis of caring. Say I’m stupid because you disagree with the conclusion I’ve reached. That’s fair. But to be criticized because I care about what I perceive to be the integrity of the Hall is totally unfair. What would be the point of taking part in any such process if someone didn’t care, and care deeply?

I offer a solution.

I believe the Hall of Fame should take complete charge of the issue. The Hall should instruct voters to do so strictly on the numbers and accomplishments. Voters should factor out the possible intrusion of PEDs.

Hey, look! Classic Straw Man! I’m not saying that nobody has ever criticized a voter for caring. For caring deeply. There are a lot of crazy people out there. But voters have been criticized, yes, for being self-righteous, as many of them have been. Voters have been criticized for failing to draw meaningful distinctions between steroids and amphetamines, because very few of the voters have even tried (let alone succeeded). Voters have been criticized for relying on innuendo rather than evidence.

Voters have very, very rarely been criticized for caring. And it’s really not helpful for Bob Ryan to try throwing everyone off the scent by suggesting otherwise.

Is his suggestion for the Hall of Fame helpful?

Maybe. I’m not sure if the “integrity clause” in the voting guidelines has done a single damn thing over the decades except for costing the steroid guys some votes. Would the voters have elected Shoeless Joe Jackson without the clause? I really doubt it. Carl Mays? I don’t think so.

By the same logic, though, I don’t think getting rid of the clause would change much. As things stand now, the integrity clause is more of an excuse than a cause. How many voters are sitting there saying, “Gee, I was about to vote for Barry Bonds but then I remembered that little bit about integrity and changed my mind.”

Not many, I’ll bet.

Would a few votes change? Sure. Maybe enough to get Piazza elected. Maybe someday enough to get Bagwell elected. But the big guys? Clemens and Bonds both fell around 230 votes short last year. There’s no way that removing a few words from the voting guidelines, and maybe adding a few about numbers and accomplishments only will gain 200-some votes for those guys. Not soon, anyway.

Which doesn’t mean it’s not a good idea. But for the process to regain some of its lost credibility, the Hall of Fame needs a bunch of good ideas. 

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