Much Ado About Nothing? (The Juiced Hall Era)

Almost exactly a year ago I posted my concerns about the increasing irrelevance of the Hall of Fame.  I didn't expect there would be much to add this time around.  As predicted, Roberto Alomar and Bert Blyleven did gain entry on the 2011 ballot, and no accused, confessed, or even merely suspected steroids users got even as high as 50% (with 75% needed for admission).  Several players who I, personally, think very relevant to the history of the sport - especially Dave Parker, Harold Baines, Kevin Brown, and John Franco - got little enough support that they will be dropped from all future ballots, until they are eligible for consideration by the Veterans Committee.

As I stated last year, I am in favor of inclusivity to the highest degree, because I believe that the Hall of Fame is only interesting as a museum of baseball history (it serves this purpose less and less every year).  I think arguments about "diluting" the player pool are frankly silly and condescending, and voting based on issues of ethics and morality utterly ridiculous.  There isn't a single member of the BBWAA that who I'd trust within a hundred yards of a podium or pulpit.  That some of them actually literally think of themselves as "morality police" is beyond laughable.  That they think moral policing is synonymous with acting as "custodians of the game's history" is evidence of actual psychotic delusion.  I would urge all who believe that the narrative of history should be tailored to a specific ideology to take a long look at the definition of propaganda, as well as the careers of Goebbels, Stalin, Joe McCarthy, and David Duke.

The selection process reached a whole new level of absurdity this year.  Foremost and most frighteningly there was the outrageous treatment of Jeff Bagwell.  Bagwell is something of a borderline candidate, based upon the strange numbers game that has historically dictated entry, and bordrline candidates generally don't get in during their first few years on the ballot.  So, Bagwell, who with 41.7% of the vote had the best performance of any player gaining eligibility in 2011, shouldn't despair.  However, that several righteous pundits took this opportunity to smear him with the scarlet S, despite the fact that he never showed up in A.) The Mitchell Report, B.) The BALCO Investigation, or C.) Conseco's sordid memoirs, is simply ugly.  I certainly don't believe that the sources listed above are utterly reliable (and U.S. law has thusfar agreed with me), but for Bagwell to have his candidacy jeopardized by merely circumstantial evidence (and that's a relatively kind description of Jeff Pearlman's justification) is the very heart of slander.  Shame.  Shame.  Shame.

Revelations which followed the BBWAA's announcement of the voting results compounded the absurdity.  Most glaring was one member's ballot which consisted of votes for Jack Morris, Edgar Martinez, Tino Martinez, Don Mattingly, and (I kid you not) B. J. Surhoff.  With the exception of Surhoff, I actually don't oppose the induction of any of these guys, but the fact that one can vote for up to ten players and this guy chose to leave off his ballot Tim Raines, Barry Larkin, Bagwell, Blyleven, and Alomar is obviously indefensible.  One can really only read this ballot as a satirical statement about the selection process itself.

There has been an abundance of commentary in the last few days, much of which is mere retread of disputes which have raged since Mark McGwire became the first presumed PED abuser to gain HOF eligibility.  The most interesting and original addition to this conversation comes from Rob Neyer, who, like his mentor, Bill James, actually cares a great deal about the Hall's existence, its standards, and the induction process.  I think he's probably wasting his energy, but I admire his resolve.  What Neyer observes is that the morality police contingent are actually endangering the tradition they have so pedantically sworn to uphold.  And, they are threatening the continued viability of the HOF as an economic institution.

Neyer points to the very real possibility, first off, that in the very near future there will be years in which way more than ten candidates who seriously deserve HOF consideration, may even be "sure things" in many voters minds, will be on the ballot all at once.  Such a glut of options could lead to many more instances of really good, even HOF worthy players falling off the ballot after gaining less than 5% of the vote.  It could also, as Neyer warns, result in years in which nobody gets 75% of the vote and therefore nobody comes to the midsummer induction ceremony which is actually what keeps Cooperstown economically viable.

Believe me, unless the people running the Hall of Fame are as "infantile, ahistorical, and asinine" as Neyer accuses many of the members of the BBWAA of being, he is not the only one worried by this potential.  The induction ceremonies bring tourist dollars to the institution and the surrounding community at a rate unequaled throughout the rest of the year.  However, the long-term sustainability of the Hall is also being jeopardized by the "morality police," even if we never end up with a year in which there are no inductions.  A contingent of indignant, short-sighted, and, frankly, bigoted baseball writers are blackballing a generation of baseball players and, therefore, a generation of baseball fans.  Think about it.  If you, like me, became a fan during the 1990s, what cause do you have to take your sons and daughters to an institution that minimizes (or, in some cases, even denies) the relevance of many of the most memorable players of your youth.

It isn't as though Barry Bonds, Alex Rodriguez, Roger Clemens, Manny Ramirez, et al are going to be forgotten by baseball history.  The Hall of Fame will stop being the custodian of that history long before that happens.  Which could be a great thing!  After all, Cooperstown is in the middle of nowhere, inaccessible even by major freeways, and, frankly, the selection process has been flawed from the start.  Maybe this is MLB's opportunity to start fresh with a serious baseball history museum in Philadelphia or Pittsburgh or Atlanta.

More likely, however, the BBWAA are writing their own death warrant.  They have been the middle man in this process all along.  What they are doing right now is kind of like SYSCO refusing to bring Coke products to McDonald's.  When the smoke clears, McDonald's isn't going to stop selling Coke products.  They're going to find another distributor.  And the BBWAA, by compounding stubbornness with ineptitude and increasing irrelevance on all fronts, isn't exactly urging MLB and the Hall of Fame to keep them in the loop.  If I'm a curator in Cooperstown, I'm enraged by the fact that somebody with power over my institution has suggested that B. J. Surhoff is more important to baseball history than Mark McGwire or Sammy Sosa.  I'm foreseeing the possibility of a Hall of Fame which does not include baseball's all-time hits leader, the all-time home run leaders, etc., etc.  And is also, thanks to the apparent political biases of the Veterans Committe, without Marvin Miller, Curt Flood, and several other icons who help to establish the relevance of baseball to American history at large.

Let's face it, we are on the verge of a situation which pits the BBWAA against MLB, the MLBPA, New York State, and the museum itself.  One of these things is not like the others.

Good riddance.

The Costas Confessional & Other January Musings

• The most important quote to take from McGwire's much-publicized statement on Monday is this one: "I had good years when I didn't take any, and I had bad years when I didn't take any.  I had good years when I took steroids, and I had bad years when I took steroids."  Although it doesn't necessarily excuse his actions, it is important to recognize that steroids do not create the superhuman baseball players.  Perhaps they kept him on the field more often or prolonged his career, but I honestly believe that McGwire's power was, as he puts it, a "gift."  That doesn't mean that his massive homer totals weren't somewhat pharmaceutically-assisted.  Certainly, keeping a player of his caliber healthy makes a big difference (see Ken Griffey Jr., Milton Bradley, etc.).  However, let's also remind ourselves that hulking muscles are not the only, nor even the most critical ingredient for baseball power.  Alfonso Soriano hits more homers than Kevin Youkilis.  Rail-thin guys like Alexei Ramirez and Khalil Greene have awesome power strokes.  The stigma associated with steroids is a by-product of its illegality, which is mainly a by-product of the dangerous abuse of early versions of such drugs by weightlifters, swimmers, football players, etc. in the 1970s and 1980s.  It is not far-fetched to believe that within the next decade or so, athletes in many sports will use a new generation of "safe" pharmaceuticals for exactly the purposes McGwire describes...and nobody will care.  After all, it is in the best interest of the league and the fans to have healthy, productive stars.  At that point, the backwards geezers who currently dominate the BBWAA will be too senile or too dead to continue their crusade against "cheating," and all our favorite "juicers" will be rightfully enshrined.  We will also probably discover that the pharmaceuticals they used during the first decade of the 20th century were mostly "safe" as well.  I'm not claiming that "makes it alright," but those partisans who have been demanding confessions from McGwire, A-Rod, Bonds, and Clemens need to get on the honesty train as well and admit that the "Juiced Ball" era did not destroy the game, quite to the contrary, the game is healthier than ever, and, despite the crusade about steroid-related health risks, so are the "juicers."
• McGwire's confession dominated Monday's Hot Stove session, overshadowing
  the Giants signing of Aubrey Huff.  It strikes me as a somewhat odd signing in that San Francisco is already replete with players whose best positions are first and third (Pablo Sandoval, Mark DeRosa, Jesus Guzman, Matt Downs, etc.).  However, it is hard to find a bad one-year deal, especially for a player who certainly has the potential to be the much-needed middle-of-the-order presence that the Giants sorely need.  Huff is coming off the worst year of his career, but at 33, there is the strong possibility that was just a fluke.  Two years ago, in Baltimore, he was one of the AL's premier power-hitters, leading the league in extra-base hits (82) and finishing fifth in OPS (912), sixth in RBI (108), and eighth in homers (32).  If he can return to near that form, it could be enough to put the Giants over the top in the NL West.  After all, they managed 88 wins in 2009 with a truly paltry offense, and neither the Dodgers nor the Rockies have made any splashes over the offseason.  Huff and DeRosa (who will presumably play left field) should inspire at least a modest offensive improvement.  The key, of course, is for the San Francisco rotation to repeat it's dominating '09 performance and for Sandoval to prove that he is the kind of hitter you can build a lineup around (something which I firmly believe).
• I haven't yet posted my Offseason Prospectus for the Texas Rangers, who added Vladimir Guerrero over the weekend, but I will tell you that the Rangers are one of the franchises I'm most excited about heading into 2010.  I'm a big fan of Ron Washington and I was impressed by the Rangers performance in '09, especially considering they actually back-tracked offensively.  The health of Guerrero and Josh Hamilton will, of course, by crucial.  As will the development of young pitches like Neftali Feliz, Tommy Hunter, Matt Harrison, and Derek Holland.  With Millwood gone, the Rangers rotation is without a veteran presence (no, Rich Harden doesn't count), which could be ingenious or disastrous.  Either way, I'm looking forward to watching.  The Rangers are expecting a return to form from Vladdy, whose lifetime numbers at Arlington are pretty encouraging.  In fifty games in the Rangers home ballpark, Guerrero has 14 HR, 33 RBI, a .394 average, and 1175 OPS.  As far as the Rangers see it, even if Vlad is a disappointment, at least he won't be destroying them every time they play the rival Angels.  The only downside of the Guerrero signing is that it could impede the playing time of three breakout players from the 2009 squad.  In all likelihood, injuries will solve this problem, but there are currently two outfield spots available for Nelson Cruz, David Murphy, and Julio Borbon.  Cruz was one of the big stories of the first half, earning himself an All-Star selection, and finished with 33 HR, 20 SB, and an 856 OPS.  Murphy started slow, but from June on, he managed an 814 OPS with 15 HR.  The 23-year-old Borbon didn't join the team until August, but in the final two months he hit .316 with 29 runs scored, 19 stolen bases, and a 802 OPS.  I imagine Borbon will leadoff and play centerfield on Opening Day, with Hamilton and Cruz on either side and Guerrero at DH.  Murphy will spell Cruz against especially tough right-handers and bide his time waiting for one of the veterans to come up lame. 
  

The Juiced Hall Era

I was certainly thrilled that Andre Dawson was elected to the baseball Hall of Fame earlier this week, but I was also disappointed to learn that he will be the only member of the 2010 class. Obviously, there are a wide range of opinions among the membership of the BBWAA on what exactly it means to be a Hall of Famer and what exactly the role of the Hall of Fame is, and they are certainly entitled to that debate, since effective ground rules have never been laid out.

Bill James' The Politics of Glory outlines the Hall's humble origins, it's numerous oddities, and its torturous electoral process.  It is a must-read, even for people who aren't generally of the sabermetric persuasion.  Even though I don't fully agree with all of James' arguments, I appreciate that men like himself and Rob Neyer have thoughtful, well-reasoned explanations of what they expect the Hall to represent. Many other pundits (many of them BBWAA voters) are irrational and schizophrenic on the subject.  Sportswriters are prone to prejudice, ignorance, and hubris on many topics, but perhaps none more blatantly provokes these qualities than questions about the Hall of Fame ballot.

Personally, I just can't understand Cooperstown as anything except an archive and a museum.  I honestly don't imagine what other role it is supposed to play.  As such, I don't see the problem with inclusivity.  I have extraordinary liberal standards.  On this particular ballot, I would've supported the candidacies of fourteen players: Dawson, Roberto Alomar, Tim Raines, Barry Larkin, Alan Trammell, Mark McGwire, Edgar Martinez, Burt Blyleven, Lee Smith, Jack Morris, Dave Parker, Dale Murphy, Don Mattingly, and Fred McGriff.  And there are many other players who I believe are too important to a rich baseball education to be excluded from an institution whose primary purpose would appear to be assisting such an education: Dick Allen and Curt Flood, for starters.  What I'm looking for from the Hall of Fame is a relatively complete picture of the various eras of baseball history and I think each of these men are appropriate to a portrait which is vivid and engaging.

I don't think baseball fans are as ignorant at the writers think we are. Just because Jack Morris is in the Hall of Fame, that doesn't mean he will be forever remembered as equal to Bob Gibson or Sandy Koufax.  When writers argue that enshrining a player like Dawson or Blyleven or McGriff might somehow "dilute" the Hall of Fame and diminish the accomplishments of its other members I am appalled.  It portrays egotism and misanthropy, suggesting such writers think everybody else too stupid to make subtle qualitative distinctions.

On the contrary, I believe the Hall of Fame's institutional role should go well beyond increasing the appreciation of "first-ballot" players like Gibson, Koufax, Ruth, and Mays, men whose legends and contributions need very little help remaining in the public eye.  I think it would be wonderful to have a place where people can also learn about players (and other baseball personnel) who haven't been as broadly canonized, but are nonetheless fascinating and inspirational figures. I can't help but ask, "Why not?"  What possible disservice would be done by having a Dave Parker plaque in Cooperstown?  Parker's career was fully of incredible accomplishments and is also defined by a number of curious, humorous, and instructive anecdotes.

A Hall of Fame which successfully rendered an objective and productive history of America's pastime would have to be an independent institution. Bud Selig (and subsequent commissioners) should not have the power to govern the Hall, nor should there be any criteria which makes a player ineligible for entry.   The more the Hall relies upon MLB or the BBWAA, the more it loses credibility and becomes a largely inconsequential syphon for advertising and propaganda.  A truly comprehensive baseball history naturally includes the careers of Pete Rose, Joe Jackson, and Mark McGwire. To argue otherwise is grossly incompetent.  The Hall of Fame won't be a truly legitimate institution until such players are included.

However, I also believe the players should have no say in how they are represented in Cooperstown. Those actions which sullied the reputations of the men listed above are as much a part of baseball history as their achievements on the field. So, yes, Mark McGwire should be in the Hall of Fame...but his plaque will "talk about the past."

Frankly, McGwire's treatment by voters thusfar suggests we are headed down a slippery slope. How do they propose to distinguish which "juiced" players get in and which ones don't.  McGwire's example is a dangerous one especially because he was never suspended for drug abuse or convicted of anything.  Everything we know about his pharmaceutical exploits is circumstantial.  Much the same can be said of Clemens, Bonds, A-Rod, and many of the other so-called "juicers."  The subjectivity of this process endangers the credibility of the institution.  What happens if Clemens is elected, but Bonds is not, or vice versa.

It is possible that ten years from now we will have a Hall of Fame that more or less omits two decades of baseball history and does not include baseball's all-time hits leader (Rose) or baseball's all-time home-run leaders (Barry Bonds and Alex Rodriguez), not to mention other players of extraordinary accomplishment like McGwire, Clemens, Manny Ramirez, Sammy Sosa, etc.

People go to the Hall of Fame largely to embrace their own nostalgia and share a part of those memories with their children. Many men and women who grew up during the "Juiced Ball" era would have very little use for a museum which ignores the existence of those players who most defined their youth. Keeping them out of the Hall of Fame is a fascistic re-writing of history. What must happen, eventually, is that baseball must enshrine the best players of that era, but they must do so without ignoring the ethical questions which also dominated the decade.

What makes a museum different from an amusement park is that it is expected to elicit not only joy, but also curiosity.  When a parent takes a child, they expect not only to entertain them, but also to educate and intrigue.  In such situations, it is imperative that the child see beyond the heroizing phenomenon of athletic celebrity.  Baseball is a wonderful way of exploring American cultural history, and that history much include discussions of addiction, exploitation, prejudice, and even defeat.  Manny's suspension is a part baseball's historical record, as is the Mitchell Report, the Bonds indictment, the Congressional hearings, the BALCO investigation, etc. To pretend otherwise merely compromises your credibility.