Hall of Fame voting is too complicated
THE Baseball Writers’ Association election of Scott Rolen to the Hall of Fame last week created a goodly share of controversy and consternation among the baseball populace, and once again it got me to wonder why it’s become so complicated.
Call me a “small Hall” or “exclusivity” guy if you will, but in voting on the Hall of Fame since 1977, I have always had two simple criteria: (1) The “see test” no-brainers — players who played the game clean and had the magic numbers like 3,000 hits, 300 wins (which we will never see again) and a lot of “denotes led league” boldface in their record; players I considered Hall of Famers just by watching them for 15 to 20 years.
(2) Absent those historic numbers, players who dominated the game at their position.
Using that second criteria in particular, it was my opinion there was only one player on this latest ballot I didn’t even have to think about and that was Jeff Kent, who had more homers and RBIS than any other second baseman in history. He did a lot of other things too, like driving in 100 or more runs eight times and finishing in the top 10 MVP voting four times, including a win in 2000 with the Giants when he hit .334 with 33 homers and 125 RBI. It’s safe to say Kent dominated the game at his position.
So why did Kent flame out with 46.5 percent of the vote on his final year on the ballot? The answer to that is the same reason Rolen was elected with 76.3 percent, despite offensive numbers vastly inferior to Kent’s despite playing at a power position, third base:
The analytics mob (or the War-mongers as I prefer to call them) got him.
It has long been their conclusion that Kent was a below-average defensive second baseman, even though that assessment was not shared by any of his managers (including Cito Gaston, Dusty Baker and Joe Torre) who never sought to move him off second base in 17 years in the majors and 49 postseason games.
At the same time, using all the new-age defensive metrics, Rolen’s supporters convinced enough voters that he was one of the greatest — if not the greatest — defensive third baseman in history, and plenty of highlight films help support that. In terms of defensive brilliance, Rolen passed the eye test for me, and in seven of his first 12 years you could make the argument he was best third baseman in baseball.
Unfortunately, way too much injury-down time was bunched in those first 12 years, and overall Rolen played 150 or more games only five times — which partly accounted for his having only one top-10 MVP finish, a fourth in 2004 with the Cardinals, and barely 2,000 hits (2,077).
But he’s in now, and that will no doubt only further embolden the War-mongers’ continuing case for Andruw Jones, who jumped from 41.4 percent in 2022 to 58.1 percent and who many of them have hailed as the greatest defensive center fielder ever. I suppose they can find metrics to support that, although when it comes to the eye test, I would nominate Gary Pettis and Paul Blair, to name two, as good as defensive center fielders I ever saw — including Jones. (Willie Mays wasn’t too shabby either.)
The point is, we shouldn’t be delving into algorithms to find ways to make players Hall of Famers. It’s not that complicated. Either he is or he isn’t, based on his entire résumé. And Jones, who didn’t have 2,000 hits, batted .254 lifetime and had the lowest OPS (.823) of any of the top eight position players on the ballot, is not a Hall of Famer.
Which brings us to Gary Sheffield.
Throwing out A-rod, Manny Ramirez and Sammy Sosa, the serial steroids cheats, no one on this ballot had anywhere near the stats of Sheffield’s 509 homers, 1,676 RBIS and 1,636 runs. Todd Helton outhit him .316-.292 and had a higher OPS (.953 to .907), but Sheffield’s offensive dominance on the ballot was undeniable.
Throughout his career, Sheffield kept hitting and hitting and hitting. So why didn’t I vote for him all those years? The reason I came up with was that he didn’t meet up with my two criteria. He didn’t have the 3,000 hits or the prolific boldface numbers throughout his record, and he didn’t dominate the game at his position as a third baseman-turned-corner outfielder.
Sheffield jumped from 40.6 percent to 55 percent in the voting this year. But, with only one more year on the ballot, and two no-brainers in Adrián Beltré and Joe Mauer coming on next year, it’s going to be difficult for him to make the Hall through the Baseball Writers. But unlike Rolen, as I have concluded, you don’t need to rely on analytics and WAR to make the case for Sheffield.
With Sheffield, it was all right in front of us. For more than 20 years, he was a dominant force in baseball as perhaps the scariest hitter in the game. If only he hadn’t shot his damn mouth off so much.