Hall of Fame logic

• Rickey Henderson. That he was an amazing player only adds to his HOF career as a quote- and story-generating gift straight from Mount Olympus.
• Bert Blyleven. A couple years ago I thought not, but I've read enough material from enough writers whom I respect that I've come around on this one. 
• Tim Raines. Dominated as a leadoff hitter and base stealer. Truly one of the best players of his era. 
• Mark McGwire. Look, I'm not here to talk about the past ... oh wait, I am.  But not that part of the past. I don't doubt McGwire was using steroids, but also believe that an extremely high percentage of his contemporaries, both hitters and pitchers, were doing the same. It's naive to assume that others were clean simply because they didn't get "caught," as McGwire essentially did with his lack of congressional testimony. If you're going to keep McGwire out, I think you have to shut out most of the other guys from his era too, whether they were "proven" cheaters or not.  I'm not willing to make that step. Instead, I'd choose to acknowledge the steroid era and vote with an understanding of what was going on. This is a messy bit of baseball history, and writers have to either choose ignorance or get their hands dirty. I'd rather do the latter.  It's a great debate, though, and I can absolutely see the other side.

I could probably be swayed pretty easily on Alan Trammell, think Dale Murphy probably deserves more consideration than he's been getting, and have a soft spot for Lee Smith. But the point here isn't to pump up my choices, but talk about one of the great shortcomings in the process - the lack of transparency. I think EVERY writer who is given a ballot should be required to disclose and explain his/her choices. Fans, many of whom take the Hall very seriously, deserve as much. 

Here are two great breakdowns from good baseball writers (thanks to Rob Neyer's blog at ESPN.com for the tips)... you know, the kind who write well, love the game, and are open to better metrics than batting average and wins. First, a great take from Joe Posnanski, who mixes in a great review of Barry Manilow and '80s music with fine analysis, and next from Ken Davidoff of Newsday. 

A couple excerpts from Davidoff that reflect a philosophy I respect:

"... Let's begin with a confession: I am a Hall of Fame voting flip-flopper.

I learned last year what this means. 2008 marked my second year as a voter, and I changed my mind on some people, and boy, did I hear it from people. Which is, of course, what makes voting for the Hall such a privilege. Because people care that much.

So let me try once more to explain why this, my third ballot, is different than my second ballot, which differed from my first:

Because I -- like most of us, I'd think -- am trying to get better at life every year.

I tried to be a better father in 2008 than I was in 2007. A better husband. A better friend.

I stopped buying black-and-white cookies in the middle of the day. My wife just purchased me a Fruit of the Month Club membership for Hanukkah..."

"... A year ago, I'm not even sure I fully understood OPS+ and ERA+. Now, they are staples of my analytical diet. Perhaps I will be using more sophisticated tools a year from now.

My point being, to lock in on a Hall of Fame decision and stick to it is to rule out future, deeper levels of understanding - that we're all trying to attain, at everything we do.

On a related note, I'm convinced more than ever that actually seeing these candidates play can be as much a hindrance as a benefit. When I think of these Hall of Fame candidates, I initially think of individual moments. For Morris, indeed, it's this game. For Andre Dawson, it's this game, because I attended it and it was part of his 1987 season that won him NL MVP honors. For Jim Rice, it's the entire 1978 season.

But Hall of Fame candidates shouldn't be judged on snapshots, IMHO. They should be evaluated on entire albums of information. The statistics stand the test of time. Our memories are not as reliable.

I'm going to keep working at this voting thing, for as long as it's still the BBWAA's responsibility. And to me, to keep working at it means to keep processing new information. Even if it results in some flip-flops..."

I particularly like the passage about how the eyes can deceive and color perceptions, and appreciate that Davidoff is willing to admit he can change his mind about different issues when presented with new information. I don't care if the new conclusions are the same as mine, but simply respect the flexibility.  The slavish devotion to "consistency" and "previous record," whether in sportswriting or politics has always been odd to me. Assuming the change isn't crass or self-serving, and I hardly think changing your mind about Bert Blyleven or Jim Rice qualifies as either, when is it a bad thing to keep the mind open as context and circumstances change? 

To do less strikes me as pretty arrogant. 

BK