Brothers and sisters, welcome, welcome all to another gorgeous, bountiful day! Welcome to the Cooperstown Congregation of Our Blessed Legends, where this morning we're going to read from the gospel of (Tommy) John and then see what we can learn from reviewing the stories of the Christians and the Tigers (Alan Trammell, Jack Morris).
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| Jack Morris has all the credentials (except ERA) as the winningest pitcher of the '80s.(Getty Images) |
(Instant message pops up from anonymous editor: "Hate to break it to you, Friar Tuck, but this isn't a worship service, pal. And you're certainly no preacher.")
Amen broth ... Huh?
(The author looks down at his clothes. Why, that's not a robe and collar. It's a gravy-stained sweatshirt. And that's not a Bible resting on the desk. It's Total Baseball, and a Hall of Fame ballot. And the ballot is due by New Year's Eve.)
Sorry. It's just that, at this time each year, I suddenly know how a preacher feels as he tries to drive home the runner from third with two out, whoops, I mean, as he tries to drive home his points to a waiting congregation.
You see, I think Bert Blyleven is a Hall of Famer. Judging from last year's voting, 70 percent of my peers do not.
Here are my points: Until Roger Clemens and Randy Johnson -- two certain Hall of Famers -- recently passed him, Blyleven ranked third on baseball's all-time strikeout list at 3,701. He ranks ninth all-time with 60 shutouts. And at 287 career victories, he easily would have 300 -- and, probably, certain Hall status -- had he not pitched for terrible teams in Minnesota and Cleveland for much of his career.
I think Morris is a Hall of Famer. Judging from last year's vote total, 73 percent of my fellow voters do not.
But Morris dominated an entire decade. He was the winningest pitcher in the 1980s and he was the staff ace for three World Series winners (1984 Tigers, '91 Minnesota Twins and '92 Toronto Blue Jays). Some quibble with his 3.90 career ERA, but he was the best there was for a significant amount of time, period. And an overwhelming majority of voters ignore him? I don't understand it.
I also think Trammell is a Hall of Famer. Judging from last year's vote total, I'm deep in the minority: He received only 14.1 percent of the vote. A total of 75 percent is needed to qualify for Cooperstown.
Trammell, along with Hall of Famer Robin Yount and future Hall of Famer Cal Ripken, changed our expectations of what a shortstop can do offensively in the 1980s. He went over 1,000 in both runs scored and RBI, something only five of the 20 shortstops currently enshrined in Cooperstown did. And of those, Trammell has more home runs than all but Ernie Banks and Yount.
Ozzie Smith was inducted into the Hall of Fame two summers ago, and yet Trammell out-hit Smith over their careers (.285-.262), badly out-homered him (185-28), out-RBI'd him (1,003-793), out-slugged him (.415-.328) and had a better on-base percentage (.352-.337). Smith was flashier with the glove, but Trammell won four Gold Gloves. Smith wasn't that superior.
But I say po-tay-to, you say po-tah-to, and here we are again. One of the most honored privileges a veteran baseball writer can ever have is a Hall of Fame vote, and tucked amid the wrapping paper and cookies each year at this time is the annual due date for the ballot to be returned. Ballots must be received by Dec. 31, and the Cooperstown Class of 2004 will be unveiled on Jan. 6.
The only certainty is this: There is a lot of agonizing, and there will be no unanimous decisions. Even last year, as Eddie Murray received more votes than anybody, 15 percent of those voting still left him off of their ballots. My perspective on it remains the same as in the past: The Hall of Fame is the people's house, as much yours as mine. I view my vote much like that of a Congressman voting on behalf of his constituents.
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| Bert Blyleven's candidacy got little traction last year.(AP) |
Eckersley was as dominant a closer as there has been since the days of Goose Gossage and Bruce Sutter. He won both the American League MVP and Cy Young awards in 1992. He finished among the top 10 in MVP voting in three other years and among the top 10 in Cy Young voting five other times. Eckersley holds the AL record for career saves (324) and was annihilating as both a closer and a starter (he no-hit California on May 30, 1977). He's the biggest no-brainer on this year's ballot.
Molitor is in the no-brainer department, too. He has 3,319 career hits on his resume and could have many more had he not spent so much time on the disabled list. He was amazing whenever he was in the postseason (1982 with Milwaukee and 1993 with Toronto), and he's still the smartest base runner I have ever seen.
Eckersley isn't the only closer I'm listing on this year's ballot. As always, Gossage and Sutter get my vote as well. I still don't understand why neither of these two has been enshrined (Sutter received 53.6 percent of the votes last year, Gossage 42.1 percent).
Gossage was the original intimidator and was so dominant that he was named to nine All-Star teams in 11 years. He fanned a stunning 151 batters in relief for the 1977 Pittsburgh Pirates. That's more than Cory Lidle struck out (112) in 31 starts for the Toronto Blue Jays last summer.
As for Sutter, not only is he a charter member of the 300-saves club, you should think of him today every time you watch a pitcher vaporize some poor slug at the plate with a split-fingered fastball. It's Sutter's pitch -- he revolutionized it. The guy finished among the top 10 in the NL MVP voting -- we're talking MVP voting, not Cy Young voting -- six times in eight years during his peak. And he's not in Cooperstown? You've gotta be kidding.
And I'm not even a closer guy. On balance, I think that closers mostly are overrated -- particularly those who take advantage of two- or three-run leads to collect a one-inning save. That's why, though it's close and he's the all-time saves leader (478), I don't vote for Lee Smith. For Baltimore in 1994, Smith had 33 saves and only 38 innings pitched, for crying out loud. That's not work, that's babysitting. For the Angels the next year, he had 37 saves in 49 innings. His two biggest seasons were in St. Louis in 1991, when he collected 47 saves (while working only 73 innings), and in 1992, when he collected 43 saves (in 75 innings).
Now, take Gossage, who routinely pitched two and three innings at the end of games. When he led the AL with 27 saves for the Yankees in 1978, those came over 134 innings pitched. When he led the league with 26 saves in '75 for the Chicago White Sox, those came in 141 innings pitched.
Sutter was similar. Maybe Smith is a Hall of Famer and my standards are too high. But I know one thing with certainty: Lee Smith needs to get in line behind Gossage and Sutter.
Moving on. Ryne Sandberg isn't a given, but I vote for him because even though Wrigley Field helped him both offensively and defensively, he was still one of the best during his time. He's third all-time for fielding percentage by a second baseman (.989), won nine consecutive Gold Gloves and was on 10 All-Star teams.
Jim Rice annually gets my vote -- and will, until he lands in the Hall of Fame or falls off of the ballot. Not that it matters -- he has taken an oh-fer so far, and last year he received only 52.2 percent of the vote. I check the box next to his name for a couple of reasons. First, I think he belongs. He was the AL MVP in 1978, when he collected a stunning 406 total bases, and he finished among the top five in MVP voting on five other occasions.
Second, some claim that his vote total remains low because he regularly was nasty with baseball writers. Maybe that's true to a small degree -- the lack of votes, not the nastiness, because the fact that he was a jerk is indisputable -- but I'd like to think not. Though we're all human, personal relationships should have no bearing on Hall of Fame voting. So if there's somebody out there who regularly ignores Rice because of personal dislike, I figure my vote will counteract at least one of those people.
Dave Concepcion, Andre Dawson, Steve Garvey, Don Mattingly, Dale Murphy, Dave Parker and Smith come close, but for various reasons I have each of them sitting on the Cooperstown porch, but not on the other side of the front door.
I'm tempted each year to vote for Concepcion, who was such a defensive wizard, but his offensive numbers are simply too puny.
Other than 1987, the year of the juiced ball, not enough of Dawson's individual seasons make you look twice. Same with Garvey and Mattingly. Murphy and Parker, meanwhile, were sensational at their peaks, but the peaks were not sustained over a long enough time.
And as much as it troubled me, I didn't vote for Kevin Mitchell, either.
Not that the roly, poly Mitchell is a Hall of Famer. But anybody as wacky as him, who once said that he eats Vicks Vaporub when he has a cold because his grandmother once advised it, deserves to be in somebody's Hall of Fame.
Can I get an "Amen?!"
