As part of an ongoing project, One More Dying Quail will be profiling the 182 current members of the Bizarro Hall of Fame, an organization that currently exists only in my mind. It was created in the wake of Major League Baseball’s infamous Steroid Era as a way of honoring those players whose careers were perfectly mediocre: the only requirement is that a candidate be listed on the official Baseball Hall of Fame ballot and receive zero votes.
Class of 1991
Bob Bailor – The first player selected by Toronto in the 1976 expansion draft, Bailor enjoyed his best major league season as a member of the original Blue Jays in 1977. The 25-year-old hit a career-best .310 with five homeruns, 32 runs batted in, and 15 stolen bases while playing in 122 games. A valuable utility player, he saw action in 100 or more games at four different positions during his eleven year career.
Al Bumbry – A member of the Virginia Sports and Baltimore Orioles Halls of Fame, Bumbry served in the United States military prior to his 1972 major league debut, earning a Bronze Star and the rank of first lieutenant during his time in Vietnam. He returned to become the American League Rookie of the Year in 1973, when he hit .337 with eleven triples and an .898 OPS in 110 games.
Rich Dauer – Dauer was drafted four times (twice by the Oakland A’s) in the 1970s before finally signing with the Orioles in 1974. He once held a major league record for second basemen with 86 consecutive errorless games at the position.
Oscar Gamble – If Oscar Gamble had not been the owner of the 1970s greatest head of hair, I would have been forced to dislike him for two reasons: first, he finished his 17 year career with exactly 666 runs batted in, and second, he was part of the 1977 trade that made Bucky Dent a New York Yankee.
Larry Gura – After spending his first eight major league seasons working primarily out of the bullpens of three different teams, Gura blossomed in 1978 with a 16-4 record and 2.72 ERA for the division winning Kansas City Royals. Two years later, he made his only All-Star appearance while helping the Royals to the World Series against Philadelphia, where he earned no-decisions in Games Two and Five.
Art Howe – A product of the University of Wyoming, Howe hit .260 in eleven major league seasons, but is best known for his seven year tenure as manager of the Oakland A’s (1996 - 2002. The team finished first or second in the last four of those seasons, including 100+ wins in 2001 and 2002, with most of the credit bypassing Howe and going to general manager Billy Beane and his “Moneyball” philosophy.
Bruce Kison – An average bullpen option for the Pittsburgh Pirates in the early 1970s (his ERA from 1971-74 almost exactly matched the league ERA for the same period), Kison was at his best in the postseason, starting his career with twenty consecutive scoreless innings and a 4-0 record. His greatest major league moment, however, might have been the time George Bell charged the mound and attempted to karate-kick him.
(Note: The clip of this incident doesn’t appear to exist on YouTube. Fortunately, this video involving Bell, the Red Sox and a botched fight does.)
Steve Rogers – A quality starter whose celebrity status was harmed by the fact that he spent his entire thirteen-year career in Montreal, Rogers won 158 games for the Expos. As Montreal became more successful in the late 1970s and early 1980s, Rogers saw his national profile increase: from 1980-83, he finished in the top five of the Cy Young award voting three times, including second in 1982.
John Wathan – A fleet-footed catcher who stole a record 36 bases for the position in 1982, Wathan played ten seasons for the Royals before moving on to manage the team from 1987-1991. They peaked in 1989, winning 92 games and finishing second in the American League West, but stumbled to sixth place the next two seasons. Wathan was eventually fired and replaced by Hal McRae.
Pat Zachry – Zachry went 14-7 with a 2.74 ERA to win the National League Rookie of the Year award for the World Champion Cincinnati Reds in 1976, adding another victory in both the NLCS and the World Series. He was traded to the Mets the following season as part of a multi-player deal for Hall of Famer Tom Seaver.
Geoff Zahn – Zahn won ten or more games for six consecutive seasons from 1977-82, culminating in an 18-8 record and sixth place finish in the Cy Young voting. Winner of 111 career victories, he also recorded 20 shutouts and 705 strikeouts in 1849 innings.
(Coming soon: the Bizarro Hall of Fame Class of 1990.)
(All Hall of Fame voting results were obtained from the official web site of the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Statistical information included in postings for the Bizarro Hall of Fame was, unless otherwise noted, originally compiled by Baseball-Reference.com.)
In the coming weeks, One More Dying Quail will be profiling the 182 current members of the Bizarro Hall of Fame, an organization that currently exists only in my mind. It was created in the wake of Major League Baseball’s infamous Steroid Era as a way of honoring those players whose careers were perfectly mediocre: the only requirement is that a candidate be listed on the official Baseball Hall of Fame ballot and receive zero votes.
Class of 1995
Doyle Alexander – He won 194 games in 19 major league seasons, but Alexander is best known for being involved in the August 12, 1987 trade that sent him from the Atlanta Braves to the Detroit Tigers. He was outstanding for the Tigers down the stretch, leading the team to the American League East division title with a 9-0 record and 1.53 ERA, but the Braves undoubtedly got the better end of the deal: they received prospect John Smoltz, who went on to become a key starter and reliever during the team’s run of fourteen division titles in fifteen seasons.
Greg Gross – The runner-up for the 1974 National League Rookie of the Year award (the winner? Cardinals outfielder Bake McBride, who we’ll see again when the Class of ’89 rolls around), Gross mixed in an utterly amazing statistic with an otherwise average stat line that season, stealing twelve bases and being caught twenty times. Outstanding. Five years later, he was traded to the Phillies as part of an eight-player deal that included another 1995 Bizarro Hall of Famer, Manny Trillo. He lasted ten years in Philadelphia and seventeen seasons in the majors by becoming a reliable hitter off the bench, with 143 career pinch-hits (none of which were homeruns – he had only seven round trippers in his career).
Rick Rhoden– A career .239 hitter, few pitchers were better with a bat in their hands than Rhoden, who won three straight National League Silver Slugger awards in the mid-1980s. Ironically, he did not win in 1977 or 1982, the two seasons in which he set career highs with three homeruns and twelve runs batted in. He also performed well on the mound, earning two trips to the All-Star game and finishing fifth in the 1986 National League Cy Young award voting.
Manny Trillo– Trillo was an above-average second baseman in the late 1970s and early 1980s, appearing in four All-Star games and winning three Gold Gloves and two Silver Sluggers. He also finished third in the voting for National League Rookie of the Year and won the Most Valuable Player for the Phillies in the 1980 National League Championship Series.
(Coming soon: The Bizarro Hall of Fame Class of 1994.)
(All Hall of Fame voting results were obtained from the official web site of the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Statistical information included in postings for the Bizarro Hall of Fame was, unless otherwise noted, originally compiled by Baseball-Reference.com.)
In the coming weeks, One More Dying Quail will be profiling the 182 current members of the Bizarro Hall of Fame, an organization that currently exists only in my mind. It was created in the wake of Major League Baseball’s infamous Steroid Era as a way of honoring those players whose careers were perfectly mediocre: the only requirement is that a candidate be listed on the official Baseball Hall of Fame ballot and receive zero votes.
Class of 1996
Bob Knepper – Most Bizarro Hall of Famers from 1999 – 2007 had some sort of claim to fame that landed them on the Hall of Fame ballot in the first place: a top ten finish in major award voting, exceptional performance in the postseason, a stretch of four or five great years. I’m at a loss, however, to explain Knepper’s presence. Yes, he was a two-time All-Star and yes, he won 146 career games, but he also lost more games than he won and had a career ERA well above the league average. Not even close to Hall of Fame worthy (although looking through the next few classes, this seems to be a trend. For some reason, the committee that actually develops the ballot seems to have become more selective in recent years).
Johnny Ray – Ray’s career started off on a promising note when he finished second in the National League Rookie of the Year voting to Steve Sax in 1982, but he never progressed much beyond a solid everyday player for the rest of his career, winning one Silver Slugger award and being named to one All-Star team.
Jeffrey Leonard – I will always think of Jeffrey Leonard as a power hitter, a notion he did little to dispel with his performance in the 1987 National League Championship Series (four homeruns in seven games to earn series MVP honors), but the stats don’t always support that line of thought. In his rookie season, for instance, Leonard finished second in the voting for NL Rookie of the Year; remarkably, he hit .290 with zero homeruns in 134 games. His power stroke didn’t come around until his last twenties, when he broke double digits by hitting twenty-one in back-to-back seasons, and peaked with a career-best 24 homeruns and 93 RBI in 1989, his second and final All-Star campaign. According to Baseball Library, he was known as Penitentiary Face, which definitely earns a spot on my greatest nicknames of all-time list from this point on.
Claudell Washington – Washington was a two-time All-Star who had nearly 2,000 career hits and may or may not have been allergic to walks, but the most interesting thing about his seventeen years in the major leagues was the fact that of the five times he was traded, two were for the fathers of likely Hall of Famers who rose to prominence in the 1990s (got all that?). On May 16, 1978, the Texas Rangers sent him and Rusty Torres to the Chicago White Sox in exchange for Bobby Bonds; eight years later, on June 30, 1986, the Braves and Yankees swapped Washington and Ken Griffey, Sr. as part of a four player deal.
(Coming soon: The Bizarro Hall of Fame Class of 1995.)
(All Hall of Fame voting results were obtained from the official web site of the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Statistical information included in postings for the Bizarro Hall of Fame was, unless otherwise noted, originally compiled by Baseball-Reference.com.)
In the coming weeks, I will be profiling the 182 current members of the Bizarro Hall of Fame, an organization that currently exists only in my mind. It was created in the wake of Major League Baseball’s infamous Steroid Era as a way of honoring those players whose careers were perfectly mediocre: the only requirement is that a candidate be listed on the official Baseball Hall of Fame ballot and receive zero votes.
Class of 2000
Hubie Brooks – Brooks had a nice, if well-traveled, major league career (he played for five teams in fifteen seasons), but there is really only one reason for him to have ever appeared on a Hall of Fame ballot: his name. Sure, fans will point to the fact that he was a two-time All-Star in 1986 and 1987, or that he drove in 100 runs in 1985, or that he finished third in the National League Rookie of the Year voting in 1981, but that is all largely irrelevant. His ownership of a name better suited for a six-year old boy? Totally amusing. Of course, when you start out as “Hubert”, how much hope do you really have?
Coming soon: The Bizarro Hall of Fame Class of 1999.
In the coming weeks, I will be profiling the 182 current members of the Bizarro Hall of Fame, an organization that currently exists only in my mind. It was created in the wake of Major League Baseball’s infamous Steroid Era as a way of honoring those players whose careers were perfectly mediocre: the only requirement is that a candidate be listed on the official Baseball Hall of Fame ballot and receive zero votes.
Class of 2001
Howard Johnson – Even after a fourteen-year major league career, there are two things for which I will always remember Howard Johnson: one, he had one of the greatest names in baseball history (to this day, whenever my mother hears his name, she replies, “His parents must have hated him.”) and two, he was only the second player to have more than two seasons with 30 homeruns and 30 stolen bases. He did it three times, all in odd numbered seasons between 1987 and 1991, making two All-Star game appearances and finishing in the top ten in the Most Valuable Player voting three times. His career numbers were probably worthy of at least a couple Hall of Fame votes, but his steep decline following the 1991 season didn’t help his chances.
Andy Van Slyke – Van Slyke was “known for being loquacious and a good quote,” two qualities that helped him make three National League All-Star teams and twice finish fourth in the MVP voting but couldn’t garner him a Hall of Fame vote in 2001. An excellent defensive outfielder, he won five consecutive Gold Gloves playing alongside Barry Bonds in Pittsburgh from 1988-92. Van Slyke made waves in 2004 when he said of Bonds and steroids, “Unequivocally he’s taken them, without equivocation he’s taken them. I can say that with utmost certainty.” (Note: It mostly deals with the pain and misery that comes from being a Pittsburgh Pirates fan, but there is an exceptional blog out there called Where Have You Gone, Andy Van Slyke?. Even if you don’t follow the Pirates, it’s worth heading over there to poke around a bit.)
Coming soon: The Bizarro Hall of Fame Class of 2000.
(All Hall of Fame voting results were obtained from the official web site of the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Statistical information included in postings for the Bizarro Hall of Fame was, unless otherwise noted, originally compiled by Baseball-Reference.com.)
In the coming weeks, I will be profiling the 182 current members of the Bizarro Hall of Fame, an organization that currently exists only in my mind. It was created in the wake of Major League Baseball’s infamous Steroid Era as a way of honoring those players whose careers were perfectly mediocre: the only requirement is that a candidate be listed on the official Baseball Hall of Fame ballot and receive zero votes.
Class of 2002
Mike Henneman – When I was a kid and the Detroit Tigers were American League East Division rivals of my Boston Red Sox, Henneman’s name always seemed to crop up into any conversation of top relievers in the league. (I also remember those conversations as including Stan Belinda, so take this memory for what it’s worth.) It’s easy to forget because he flamed out so quickly (he had a career high 31 saves in 1996, but grouped that with an 0-7 record and 5.79 ERA), but for seven seasons from 1987-93 he was a key member of a very good Tigers bullpen, recording twenty or more saves five times.
Jeff Russell – Like his contemporary Rick Aguilera, Russell began his major league career as a starting pitcher before moving into the bullpen and flourishing. After becoming a full-time closer in 1989, he saved thirty or more games four times in five seasons, twice recording an ERA below 2.00. The Rangers dealt him to Oakland at the 1992 trading deadline in exchange for Jose Canseco, Ruben Sierra, and fellow Bizarro Hall of Famer Bobby Witt.
Scott Sanderson – The words “Scott Sanderson” and “Hall of Fame” don’t even begin to go together, but the truth is that Sanderson had himself a nice little major league career, winning 163 games in nineteen seasons. Though his only All-Star appearance came as a member of the New York Yankees in 1991, the year before was probably his best season – he finished third on the Oakland A’s staff with seventeen wins and made the only World Series appearance of his career.
Robby Thompson – Thompson played eleven seasons for the San Francisco Giants, enjoying his best season (.312, 19, 65) during the great pennant race of 1993. It was also his last good season; he failed to play in more than 95 games in any of his final three seasons and never got his batting average above .223. A fun fact: his homerun against the Pirates on July 17, 1987 was the 10,000th in Giants history.
Coming soon: the Bizarro Hall of Fame Class of 2001.
In the coming weeks, I will be profiling the 182 current members of the Bizarro Hall of Fame, an organization that currently exists only in my mind. It was created in the wake of Major League Baseball’s infamous Steroid Era as a way of honoring those players whose careers were perfectly mediocre: the only requirement is that a candidate be listed on the official Baseball Hall of Fame ballot and receive zero votes.
Class of 2003
Danny Jackson – Living proof that one season of excellence does not guarantee that a player will receive a Hall of Fame vote, Jackson was the first overall pick of the Kansas City Royals in the secondary phase of the 1982 amateur draft He was traded to the Cincinnati Reds in 1987 and finished second to Orel Hershiser in the 1988 Cy Young award voting after posting a breakout 23-8 record and 2.73 ERA. While the numbers are impressive, some feel that manager Pete Rose damaged Jackson’s future health by calling on him to pitch a career-high 260.7 innings, including fifteen complete games (tied with Hershiser for the league lead). Jackson’s left arm agreed with the criticism; he didn’t win more than eight games in any season again until 1993.
Mickey Tettleton – The lasting memory most people will have of Tettleton is not his four seasons with thirty or more homeruns or the fact that he drew an impressive number of walks for a power hitter, but his batting stance. Watching him at the plate, his hands bunched up and twisted in close to his body, one wondered how he ever managed to unravel everything fast enough to get the bat on the ball. Another notable quirk about his career: for three straight seasons, from 1985-87, Tettleton totaled exactly 211 at-bats.
Mitch Williams – Joe Carter might not have kept Mitch Williams from reaching the Hall of Fame, but he definitely prevented him from receiving a couple of courtesy votes. A workhorse reliever who had come up with the Rangers before emerging as a top flight closer with the Cubs in 1989, Williams put together five solid seasons in that role, culminating with a 43 save campaign in 1993. In Game Six of the World Series that year, however, he surrendered a Series-winning homerun to Carter, and was never the same pitcher again. Traded to Houston in the off-season, Williams ended up appearing in just 52 games (saving six) over the next four seasons before quitting for good in 1997.
Todd Worrell – The National League Rookie of the Year in 1986 (9-10, 2.08, 36 saves), Worrell had six seasons with more than thirty saves, including 44 during a late career renaissance with the Los Angeles Dodgers in the mid-1990s. One of just two major leaguers who attended California’s Biola University – his younger brother Tim is the other – Worrell likely missed out on Hall of Fame votes because of the era in which he was up for consideration. At the time he appeared on the ballot, voters were still largely unclear on how they wanted to judge closers (to a large extent, this is still the case). Were he to appear on the ballot in 2008, Worrell might pick up a handful of votes; in 2003, the writers weren’t quite ready to do that.
Coming soon: the Bizarro Hall of Fame Class of 2002.
In the coming weeks, I will be profiling the 182 current members of the Bizarro Hall of Fame, an organization that currently exists only in my mind. It was created in the wake of Major League Baseball’s infamous Steroid Era as a way of honoring those players whose careers were perfectly mediocre: the only requirement is that a candidate be listed on the official Baseball Hall of Fame ballot and receive zero votes.
Class of 2005
Mark Langston – Voters in 2005 obviously forgot the pitcher that Langston was early in his career, when he struck out 200+ batters in five out of his first six seasons for the Seattle Mariners before being traded to Montreal for Randy Johnson. He also won 179 games in sixteen major league seasons (including seven seasons with fifteen or more wins), was an All-Star four times and took home seven Gold Gloves.
Otis Nixon – the player my mother still affectionately refers to as “The Druggie” probably deserves his Bizarro fate after the way he ended the 1992 World Series: with the tying run on third in the bottom of the eleventh inning of Game Six, he threw up the baseball equivalent of a white flag, rolling a casual little bunt that pitcher Mike Timlin fielded easily for the final out. Sure, Nixon was one of the fastest humans alive, and it might have seemed like a good idea at the time, but it wasn’t.
Coming soon: the Bizarro Hall of Fame's Class of 2004.
In the coming weeks, I will be profiling the 182 current members of the Bizarro Hall of Fame, an organization that currently exists only in my mind. It was created in the wake of Major League Baseball’s infamous Steroid Era as a way of honoring those players whose careers were perfectly mediocre: the only requirement is that a candidate be listed on the official Baseball Hall of Fame ballot and receive zero votes.
The Class of 2006
Gary DiSarcina – His favorite show is Desperate Housewives. His favorite piece of clothing is Flip Flops. His nickname is DiSar. And if he could spend a day with anyone, he would choose Alexander the Great. All valid reasons for why he received no Hall of Fame votes. On the plus side, he was a loyal player, spending his entire career with one team, the California/Anaheim Angels, and has shown the same sentiment toward his home state of Massachusetts, attending college there and later returning as a Red Sox television analyst for NESN.
Alex Fernandez – By the end of his career, Fernandez’s right arm was attached to his body by three toothpicks and a twist-tie, but he still has the Golden Spikes Award he won in 1990 as America’s best amateur baseball player. It should make him feel better to know that none of the other winners is in the Hall of Fame (or likely to be).
Coming soon: the Bizarro Hall of Fame's Class of 2005.
There was an episode of Seinfeld in the mid-1990s where George Costanza, the perennially downtrodden friend of the title character, decided that the main problem in his life was the fact that his instincts were always wrong. In an attempt to shake things up, he began doing the exact opposite of whatever felt “right”, whether it meant approaching a beautiful woman or standing up for himself, and his quality of life took an immediate turn for the better.
I thought of this episode earlier tonight after reading yet another article about the Baseball Hall of Fame and the perceived incompetence of its voters, who committed a variety of wrongs that ranged from not electing Cal Ripken, Jr. unanimously to casting ballots for Dante Bichette, Jay Buhner and Ken Caminiti. Given the backlash that surrounds virtually everything they do in connection with the Hall of Fame, the members of the Baseball Writers Association of America, the body entrusted with the honor of selecting Cooperstown’s newest residents, might serve themselves well by taking a page out of Costanza’s book and voting for the exact opposite of the obvious choices.
Because this idea intrigued me, and I obviously have too much time on my hands, I took a run through the voting results on the Hall of Fame web site and found the players who could probably be considered the polar opposite of what we think of as a Hall of Famer: those who were listed on the ballot but failed to collect a single vote. There were 182 players who fit that bill, all of them in the last thirty years (although there are about a million one vote wonders in the thirty years before that), with a single-election high of 29 in 1980.
I’ve never really run a regular feature here before, with the possible exception of the weekly update on the winless college football teams in November, but this stood out as being worthy of being the first. It’ll take some time to get through everybody, and there's a good chance that not all of us will survive, but the 182 members of what I have lovingly taken to calling the “Bizarro Hall of Fame” will be recognized for their (lack of) achievements. The most recent “inductees”, the Class of 2007, are below:
2007 (4) Scott Brosius – I never realized this, but apparently Brosius led the 1998 New York Yankees, one of the greatest teams of all time, in win shares. Scholars have yet to determine how the hell this happened.
Wally Joyner – The guy who finished second to Jose Canseco in the 1986 Rookie of the Year voting. Like Canseco, he gave steroids a try, but quit upon discovering that they made him feel icky.
Bobby Witt – Voters were obviously not impressed by his career record of 142-157 and 4.83 earned run average. I was not impressed by the fact that he was not, as originally suspected, Mike Witt’s brother.
Devon White – It’s surprising that nobody threw him a courtesy vote, especially since he was regarded as a great defensive centerfielder. Some observers considered his catch in the 1992 World Series, which nearly resulted in a triple play for the Blue Jays, to be at least equal to Willie Mays’ famed play in 1954.
Coming soon: the Bizarro Hall of Fame's Class of 2006.
Early Tuesday morning, at least two retired baseball players will get the thrill of their lives in the form of a call from Baseball Writers Association of America (BBWAA) secretary-treasurer Jack O’Connell and National Baseball Hall of Fame chairman Jane Forbes Clark. That call, which comes before the official announcement is made later in the day, will notify those fortunate men that they have received the greatest individual honor possible for their careers: election into the exclusive Baseball Hall of Fame.
As recently as three years ago, the Class of 2007 figured to contain three locks: San Diego outfielder Tony Gwynn, one of the great hitters of the 1980s who had over 3,000 hits in twenty major league seasons, all with the Padres; Baltimore shortstop Cal Ripken, Jr., the Iron Man who played in 2,632 consecutive games and spent his entire career with the Orioles; and Mark McGwire, the behemoth who, along with Ripken and Sammy Sosa, received the lion’s share of the credit for bringing fans back to the game after the devastating 1994-95 strike. The general consensus among experts and casual fans alike was that these three would gain easy entry to the Hall this season, with perennial contenders Goose Gossage, Jim Rice, Bert Blyleven and Andre Dawson likely to remain on the outside looking in.
Then came the Rise of the Steroid Era. Gwynn and Ripken seemed to be safe from the public scrutiny that ensued following the confessions of Ken Caminiti and Jose Canseco, as neither appeared, upon visual inspection, to be a user of illegal substances, but McGwire was another story. While the initial onslaught landed more in the lap of San Francisco Giants slugger Barry Bonds, there was always an undercurrent of su####ion when it came to the man America had affectionately come to know as “Big Red” during his playing days, dating all the way back to that magical 1998 season when he and Sosa had entered into a homerun chase that gripped the nation and changed the way fans viewed the long ball. It was during that summer that an AP reporter found a bottle containing androstenedione, a steroid precursor that was available as an over-the-counter dietary supplement, in the slugger’s locker. Though banned by the NFL, IOC and NCAA at the time, “andro” was not illegal in Major League Baseball or the United States, leading most to question not the fact that McGwire was using the substance but the method through which it was discovered by the reporter.
As more and more information on the Steroid Era has come out in the last two years, however, including Rafael Palmeiro’s positive test in 2005, McGwire has seen more and more fingers pointed at him as a user. Suddenly, the added bulk that was attributed to hard work in the late 1990s has become the result of shady dealings, the reluctance to address Congress in March 2005 a tacit admission of guilt. The negative publicity has catapulted McGwire to a position just below that of Bonds as one of the chief villains in the game, a once likeable player who “tricked” us into caring about him before breaking our hearts by showing that he was just like the rest of them.
With the steroid controversy has come a Hall of Fame controversy: specifically, what do we do about a guy like McGwire, who was all but enshrined three years ago but is now dealing with a plethora of unanswerable questions? Most writers with a vote seem to be just saying no; a recent ESPN poll of 138 Hall of Fame voters showed that only 26.8% planned to vote for McGwire on this year’s ballot, with about 65% of those uncertain of their plans for later years. (An identical online poll shows a nearly 50-50 split on the vote among ESPN readers.)
After all he did for the game in the late 1990s – baseball has him to thank, in part, for its annual record-setting attendance numbers – it’s a shame that McGwire has fallen to this point, but the fact is that those 101 writers have it right: there is no way Jane Forbes Clark should have to call Mark McGwire and congratulate him on his election to the Hall of Fame on Tuesday morning.
This isn’t to say that McGwire should never again be a candidate for the Hall, or that he shouldn’t wind up in Cooperstown eventually. Both are strong and acceptable possibilities. The main problem, as briefly outlined above, is that there are too many questions surrounding his career. Was andro the only supplement he used, or was there something more sinister in his medicine cabinet (as Canseco claims)? If it was the only questionable substance he used, and it was legal in baseball at the time he used it, do we have the right to convict him in the court of public opinion? And even if he did do something bad, is it possible that his transgressions are mild enough so as to be overshadowed by the good things he did for the game of baseball in his career?
The problem with this whole situation is that the Hall of Fame is a lifetime appointment; once you’re in, you’re in forever – Cooperstown does not believe in divorces, messy or otherwise. The permanence is what makes it such a huge honor to be inducted. Because of this, McGwire is an exceptionally tricky case. If we put him in now, and later find that he was absolutely guilty of some serious transgressions during his playing days – imagine if Pete Rose hadn’t been hit with the gambling issue until the early 1990s - we can’t take him out without setting a dangerous precedent (it’s the same reason they can’t just put Buck O’Neil in – if the powers that be make a call like that with regards to one player, it opens a whole can of worms for every other guy who thinks he belongs. Before long, the whole process is even more corrupted than it already is). On the other hand, he is eligible for fifteen years, which should be plenty of time for us to get this whole situation squared away and develop a clearer view of McGwire’s worthiness.
In just a few hours, the members of the Baseball Hall of Fame’s Class of 2007 will learn of their inclusion in a sacred institution. For the sake of that institution, I hope Mark McGwire is not among them. Not until we have more answers. Even if it takes fifteen years.
Under normal circumstances, I am a fan of ESPN.com writer Bill Simmons. His non-magazine columns can run pretty long, he obsesses over his own perceived sports and pop culture genius, and the way he references “my buddy so-and-so” is an annoying literary device, but those negatives are far outweighed by the one major positive: every Wednesday and Friday, I look forward to his column and am disappointed if it doesn’t run. (In the interest of full disclosure, I should also mention that all three of those faults that I just pointed out in Simmons’ writing pretty much apply to me as well.)
In the nearly ten years that Simmons has written a column, first for his own “Sports Guy” web site and then for ESPN.com, he has fathered and furthered a number of ideas that help deepen my own personal appreciation of sports. (The Ewing Theory, in which a team becomes more successful after an irreplaceable player suffers a serious injury or retires, is a personal favorite.) Recent months had seen a visible change in The Sports Guy, however, from the guy we wanted to hang out and talk sports with to the drunk dude at the end of the bar who spends his evenings tossing out opinons, often unsolicited, on anything and everything. Some of those thoughts are frustrating, such as his recent unhealthy obsession with “The Wire” (really, Bill, I want to see the show, but not for the $60 it’ll cost me at Best Buy) and Allen Iverson, but others make a surprising amount of sense, not least of all a recent riff on the quality of the announcing in professional sports.
With Wednesday afternoon’s piece on Mark McGwire his chances of making the Hall of Fame, Simmons covered the entire spectrum from knowledgeable sports fan to crazy old drunk man. He made a few very good points, including one where he pointed out the discrepancy that exists between objectionable incidents on television or radio programs and those that occur on the Internet:
“…[P]art of our country's problem is the shortsighted way we "protect" our kids from life's harsh realities. Janet Jackson's nipple slip was such a traumatic moment for Americans that some live sporting events now run on tape-delay, and Howard Stern fled to SIRIUS to escape the clutches of the increasingly fascistic FCC. Meanwhile, any kid can glimpse Britney's #### if he or she is even remotely familiar with Google, and anyone can be slandered anonymously on a blog or message board."
The last line notwithstanding (if the focus was truly on kids, it probably should have said something about chat rooms or Myspace instead of blogs or messages; in the current form, it reads like somebody was skewered on one or more sites and is taking it kind of personally. And before you call me insensitive to his feelings, please remember that I am the same person who once had a post referred to as “#### terrible” by a Deadspin commenter, and I get paid a lot less than Bill Simmons to put up with that kind of criticism), this is an interesting thought. He’s not saying we should be more firm in our regulation of the Internet, but that parents should be the parties responsible for making sure their children don’t see content they shouldn’t, and if they do, that they aren’t scarred forever by it. Can’t really argue with that.
Simmons continued in that vein, tying the messed up nature of our country to the idea that Mark McGwire doesn’t belong in the Hall of Fame:
“Look, our country is #### up. Whether we like it or not, people will always gamble, use illegal drugs, drink and drive, cheat on their spouses, cheat on tests, lie and steal, ditch their families, swear and fight, use performance-enhancing drugs. Banishing Mark McGwire from Cooperstown isn't going to make any of that go away. Let's stop pretending that the Baseball Hall of Fame is a real-life fantasy world -- a place where we celebrate only the people and events we can all unanimously agree deserve to be celebrated -- and transform it into an institution that reflects both the good and bad of the sport. Wait -- wasn't that Cooperstown's mission all along? Shouldn't it be a place where someone who knows nothing about baseball can learn about its rich history? Isn't it a museum, after all?”
Starts off well here, then heads down a dangerous road. As pessimistic as it sounds, I happen to believe that the first two sentences are pretty much dead on: no matter what we do to try and fix it, America will always have problems. The country is a reflection of who we are as individuals in that no one is perfect, but most people are basically good.
Simmons takes things to a bad place, however, near the end of the paragraph when he asks the question, “Shouldn’t [the Hall of Fame] be a place where someone who knows nothing about baseball can learn about its rich history? Isn’t it a museum, after all?”
Yes and yes. Cooperstown is baseball’s Mecca, a point on the map where pilgrimmages end with fathers pointing their sons to Stan Musial’s jersey or the ball from Nolan Ryan’s 7th no-hitter. The Hall of Fame has, in its long history, created innumerable fans, strengthened the love of the game for countless others, and provided a checkpoint for everyone to boost their baseball I.Q.
The problem with Simmons point here is that he is falling victim to the common misperceptions that the plaque gallery makes up the majority of the Hall and that if you aren’t an elected member, you don’t exist to Cooperstown.
“If that's the case -- and I say it is -- then how can we leave out Pete Rose, the all-time hits leader and most memorable competitor of his era? And how can we even consider leaving out McGwire, Barry Bonds and Sammy Sosa, the three most memorable hitters of the 1990s? We're supposed to stick our heads in the historical sand and pretend these people were never born? Imagine if the rest of the world worked like this. Word is, JFK cheated on his wife. Should we change the name of the airport and remove all his memorabilia from the Smithsonian?”
This argument is not new; it’s one of the same ones we see every time the question of Rose’s candidacy comes up. The problem is that Rose has not been “left out” of the Hall of Fame to the extent that most members of the media and casual fans would like to believe. “Charlie Hustle” is very much a part of the Hall of Fame (the organization’s web site states that he donated more than twenty items during his career, with many currently on display) – he just isn’t allowed to attain the highest honor, that of a member. By the same token, even if McGwire never receives a plaque in Cooperstown, he will always have a presence there. His accomplishments will always be mentioned, with his rookie record 49 homeruns in 1987 and the way he and Sosa helped bring the game back with the Great Homerun Chase of 1998 at the head of the class. If anything, players like Rose and McGwire get a good deal from the Hall of Fame for the simple fact that the bad points in their careers don’t have nearly as high a profile as the good times.
(Quick note: Sosa, a guy who exploded into superstardom in 1998, was one of the three most memorable hitters of the 1990s? Has Bill Simmons never heard of Frank Thomas or Ken Griffey, Jr.?
Oh, and that JFK analogy? Totally off-base. Pete Rose gambled on baseball, including games in which his team was involved. Mark McGwire and Barry Bonds allegedly took drugs that allowed them to develop from good or great ballplayers to legendary figures. Last time I checked, Kennedy’s extramarital affairs didn’t affect his presidency either way. The part about his memorabilia was also ill fitting, for the same reasons explained above.)
Personally, I’m on the fence regarding Mark McGwire’s Hall of Fame candidacy; I won’t be sad if he makes it or happy if he doesn’t. But if he does find himself on the outside looking in after the results are announced, I hope people are smart enough to realize that just because he doesn’t have a spot in the plaque gallery, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a spot in the Hall of Fame.
"Certainly I like the fact that he's not playing, but I don't like the fact that he's not playing for that reason." - Yankees manager Joe Torre on Red Sox slugger David Ortiz; Ortiz missed eight games after suffering from heart palpitations (Yahoo! Sports)
"It sounds like we're talking about the war front -- reinforcements." - Red Sox infielder Mark Loretta commenting on the team's recent injury woes; Boston at one point had seven key players on the disabled list and was also missing Ortiz, Manny Ramirez and Wily Mo Pena (Yahoo! Sports)
"We both spoke and I wasn't the first. I held his shirt but don't you think it is a provocation to say that 'if you want my shirt I will give it you afterwards'?...I replied to Zidane that I would prefer his sister, that is true. I brought up his sister and that wasn't a nice thing, that is true." - Italy defender Marco Materazzi on the exchange that earned him a head butt from French midfielder Zinedine Zidane near the end of the World Cup's final match (ESPN)
"We're tired of there being a double standard on the whistle...We're tired of it, and it's showing...Players are becoming frustrated, and we expect -- no, we demand -- that we get the same calls as the other team...We demand that we get the same hand-checks, that we get the same cheap calls that go against us. Am I whining? No. I'm stating a fact." - Detroit Shock coach Bill Laimbeer, whining about the officiating after his team fell to the Sacramento Monarchs in Game Three of the best-of-five WNBA finals; the Shock was called for five more fouls than the Monarchs in Game Three (ESPN)
"I was scared because a grown man hit me. I thought it was a player at first just hitting me from behind and I turned around and it was a coach." - Stockton Bears youth player Brian Wood, who was flattened by an opposing coach last Saturday; the 13 year old Wood had just been penalized for a late hit on the coach's son (MSNBC by way of Deadspin)
"I'll panic if my kid flunks math." - Detroit Tigers manager Jim Leyland when asked at what point he will start worrying about the team's poor play (Yahoo! Sports)
"Today, they want to be stars. They don't want to be great players. We wanted to be great players." - New NBA Hall of Famer Charles Barkley commenting on the mindset of today's NBA players during his induction speech on Friday (Fox Sports)
"They are all very hot...They have the, you know, part of the black blood in them and part of the Latino blood in them that together makes it." - California governor Arnold Schwarzeneggar on the reason Cubans and Puerto Ricans are "feisty"; the remarks were taped during a March meeting with aides and released in a Los Angeles Times story on Friday (Yahoo! News)
Hall of Famer? Depends - How Hard Does He Have To Run To Get There?
Some criticism for Manny Ramirez this week, who saw his 27 game hitting streak come to an end against the Baltimore Orioles on Sunday afternoon. No big deal about the fact that he went 0-3 (this is baseball - these things happen), but some people took issue with his last at-bat in the seventh inning: after hitting a little gork between the pitcher's mound and first base, he Man-Ran casually down the line. The pitcher, Todd Williams, came off the mound to make the play, bobbled the ball once, then rushed a throw that got away from the first baseman and allowed Manny to reach first. The play was ruled an error by official scorer Bob Ellis, which ultimately ended Ramirez's streak, but the argument from at least one source is that he could have received credit for a base hit if he had run hard all the way down the line. (According to the game recap on ESPN.com, he asked Sox third baseman Mike Lowell for his opinion, to which Lowell responded, "I don't know. You didn't run, so don't worry about it.")
Let's be honest: there's no way Manny gets a hit on that play, which was basically a swinging bunt, even if he hustles all the way down the line. No way. It wasn't an easy play, but it was one that Williams should have made. Even if Manny had been running hard out of the box, the play should not have been ruled a hit because of the initial bobble. Anyway, it's a moot point now - the streak is over, and there are only two reasons this is still being debated: 1) we're talking about Manny Ramirez, who has a tendency to lollygag his way down to first from time to time and 2) it meant the end to a lengthy hitting streak. If this happens this weekend to Alex Gonzalez, it's not even a story (if it happens to Alex Rodriguez, however, the New York Times will have put it on the front page, probably below the fold).
A Farewell To (Young) Arms
I'm not much of a Little League World Series watcher; even this year, with one of my local towns representing New Hampshire (I grew up about three miles from Portsmouth and attended high school there), I don't figure to catch more than a few innings, if that. But the lack of quality programming late Monday night led me to turn on the New York-New Jersey game for a few minutes. Late in the game, ESPN flashed up a graphic: New York's pitcher, Joe Calabrese, had thrown over 100 pitches (he finished up somewhere around 105 for the game). The realization that accompanied this was astounding: as much as pitchers are coddled in the minor and major leagues, held to strict pitch counts and carefully monitored for developing arm trouble, history has shown a comparatively low level of structure at the Little League level. (To the Little League administration's credit, they are working on the Pitch Count Pilot Program, which should result in changes in the way pitchers are used.)
A quick perusal of box scores from the 2004 World Series alone revealed a number of pitchers who easily surpassed 100 pitches in a game, including a young man from the Caribbean who delivered a whopping 137 in one contest. It's a strange suggestion, but the time may have come for increased specialization in Little League (or at the very least, the World Series) - implement a 75 pitch limit for starters and encourage coaches to develop at least one or two players who primarily see action as relievers/closers, coming in to finish things off when the starter is done.
Back to the pitch count issue, briefly: in reading about this on the internet earlier, I came across a discussion on the topic from several years ago. One poster mentioned that most teams in most leagues have only one or two pitchers who can be depended upon to even throw the ball over the plate, a fact that meshes with what I remember from my own days in youth baseball (In the interest of full disclosure, I once started a batter off 0-2, then proceeded to throw six straight balls; with a wave of his hand, my coach banished me to left field). With this in mind, I personally believe that it would be a good idea to use the pitch count as a guideline during regular season play, then strictly enforce it during the All-Star tournaments that make up the road to the World Series. Because these teams are made up of the best players from entire leagues, there are usually at least three or four pitchers capable of working an inning or two when called upon. (The current rule limiting pitchers to six innings a week should also remain in effect.)
Thanks, That Was Fun
Much sadness in my household this week with the death of actor Bruno Kirby, who played supporting roles in "When Harry Met Sally" (one of my wife's favorites) and "The Godfather Part II" (one of my favorites). His battle with leukemia had not received much publicity, so when we heard that he had passed away it came as a complete surprise, especially considering his relatively young age (he was 57). We hope the man who brought so much humor to the big screen as young Clemenza and Harry's best friend Jess has moved on to a better place.
Early Front Runner For Quote Of The Year
I honestly thought the only good things that could possibly come out of the "Rock Star: Supernova" show were Dave Navarro's patented lean and point (which NEVER fails to make me laugh), Patrice Pike's "You realize I could snap at any time and kill everyone here, right? RIGHT?!" facial expressions during almost every performance and my wife's inability to look directly at Lukas Rossi while he is singing. Then, this past Tuesday, drummer Tommy Lee issued the following critique of Storm Large's performance:
"That was sauteed in wrong sauce."
It's not quite "You're with me, leather", but it made me feel better about watching the show in the first place. Lines like that earn you nominations for my coveted Quote of the Year award, Tommy Lee. Keep 'em coming.
I Like To Pinch
For the record, this is my favorite commercial ever.
I am a 28 year old sports fan who enjoys following the Boston Red Sox, New England Patriots and Boston Celtics (and I wrote that before Garnett and Allen came to town).
I've lived my whole life in southern New Hampshire, graduating from UNH in 2003 with a degree in history/relig ious studies. Two of my favorite jobs have been related to baseball, first as an intern with the National Baseball Hall of Fame in 2002 and then as an intern/Media Relations Manager with the Nashua Pride in 2003 and 2004.
