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The Voices of Reason: The MLB Hall of Fame
With this past weekend's induction ceremonies for the Baseball Hall of Fame—you mean you missed it?—it seems a fine time to ask what (if anything) should be done to improve this increasingly irrelevant institution.
1. With the Baseball Hall of Fame teetering on the edge of irrelevance, what to you think MLB should do to spice up the election process and induction ceremony?
Margarita Milnes—I don't know how to make it better, but whatever you do, do NOT let the fans vote!
Vance Macdonald—Ah, the Hall of Fame. Is there any topic that is supposed to be a fun, trivial diversion, yet generates so much controversy? Perhaps Carolyn Jones vs. Yvonne DeCarlo. Every year, without fail, we get a parade of articles attempting to analyze the hall-worthiness of a dozen or so ex-greats. These articles almost invariably fall very sharply into two categories: quantitative vs qualitative.
The former camp, typified by Rob Neyer, usually exhibit excellent methodology and analytical skills in building their case. While the latter camp tend to eschew logic in favor of emotion, and shoot from the hip (never a good idea). These emotional appeals are riddled with "I played with so-and-so..." and homer biases. As you might expect, ex-ballplayers are well represented in this category.
As should be obvious from my tilted language above, it is probably pretty clear which camp I fall into. HOWEVER, as a lifelong stats head, this is really the only area where I diverge from my fellow sabermetricians. Look, it's the Hall of FAME, not the Hall of Best Players at Their Respective Positions. Why shouldn't a player get extra points for a legendary Kirk Gibson/Joe Carter World Series blast. Or extra credit for a historic 4 or 5 year run of utter domination, as opposed to a long, 23-year career of slightly above average resulting in deceptively impressive career numbers. I'm even willing to concede that players spending their career in the Bronx during a Yankee dynasty can even glean extra credit simply for being more visible, to more fans, and playing in a greater number of important games.
From the HOF voting criteria: "Voting shall be based upon the player's record, playing ability, integrity, sportsmanship, character, and contributions to the team(s) on which the player played." (Italics are mine.) At least three of those criteria are completely subjective, qualitative, and have almost nothing to do with performance. And really, only one of them (the first) is entirely objective. Hall voters seem to grasp this subjective aspect intuitively with the negative aspects (see: Pete Rose...and hopefully, every player of the Steroids Era). Therefore, I actually think the current voting method is perfect for the task at hand.
Well, I would make one tweak and bring the voting into the 21st century by expanding the voting base beyond just the baseball writers. Veteran broadcast media personnel should have been let in on this little party long ago. Perhaps even ex-coaches, players, and front office personnel. Yes, they carry some heavy biases, but with the greatly expanded pool of voters, those biases—and personal grudges—carry far less significance (unlike the sham that is MVP and CY Young voting). Later: the fascinating saga of Bert Blyleven vs. Nolan Ryan.
Steve Finkelstein—Induct Pete Rose!
Jeff Lewis—I'd like to see some players automatically inducted, based on a very complex, possibly arcane analysis of players' careers, which would help make intra-era comparisons meaningful. The baseball writers could then vote on the fringe candidates or the special contributors (like Curt Flood, Sadarahu Oh, Bill James).
Starting in about 1987, Major League Baseball got greedy when it chose to implement all of the policies that favored offense: smaller parks, tighter-wound balls, elbow guards, baseball in Colorado, expansion, turning a blind eye to steroids, etc. This choice messed up the Hall of Fame. These new policies skewed the offensive statistics, so that run-of-the-mill players could rack up 30 HRs and 100 RBIs, making the careers of the great players from the past seem less impressive.
When Cecil Fielder hit 51 HRs in 1990, it was exciting because it was the first time it had happened since George Foster did it in 1977, which in turn was the first time a player had topped 50 since Willie Mays in 1965. Since 1990, 50 HRs has been bested on 19 occasions and 60 has been topped 6 times. Steroids played a roll in at least several of these 50+ seasons, a fact that tarnishes ALL of them.
The current crop of stars has lost their luster, and in the process ruined the careers of past players in many fans' eyes. For example, when Willie McCovey retired with 521 HRs, or when Mike Schmidt ended with 548, these were impressive numbers. Now, they are obscured by a bunch of cheaters, which doesn't make the baseball record book much fun.
After the publication of Moneyball, a more rigorous analysis of baseball statistics is in vogue and I think this trend could help get baseball out of this mess. First off, baseball should stick Bill James in the Hall of Fame. Then it should use a Jamesian sort of system to evaluate players and Hall of Fame standards, so that players are compared to the norms of their era to figure out who stands above the rest.
Another thing that should be added in the mix more heavily is post season statistics, now that players can play as many as 21 extra games. There's talk now that John Smolz and Curt Schilling may make the Hall based on their playoff excellence, which I hope means that Jack Morris will final get his proper respect. (As an aside, I'd also like to see Dwight Evans in the Hall—his 8 Gold Gloves and nearly 1400 BBs haven't been appreciated fully by the voters.)
To submit a topic for The Voices of Reason, or to be added to the VoR Shout Out List, send an e-mail to martell@babblog.com.
