Wednesday 5 January 2011

Hall of Fame, voters and steroids

Raffy
My favorite sports thing to debate is the Major League Baseball Hall of Fame.

Today, voters elected Roberto Alomar and Bert Blyleven to the sacred Hall.

Alomar, to me, was a no-brain first ballot, who probably got stung last year with the whole spitting on the umpire ordeal. A superb hitting and fielding second baseman. The best of his era by a million miles.

Blyleven ... eh. I was never a Blyleven guy because I don't think you should get extra points for longevity and that's precisely what he's getting. It took him 22 years to never really be a dominant pitcher and to acquire numbers that wouldn't get a majority of other pitchers in.

Nonetheless, he's in and I'm sure both electees are thrilled as they get to pick and choose which team they'll go in with.

The bigger story, it seems, was the scathing indictment of the steroids era by the voters. So bad was the insinuation of steroids amongst the players of this era, Jeff Bagwell -- a well-deserving player who's never even been remotely associated with steroids -- was put on a mere 41 percent of the ballots.

Worse yet, first-timer Rafael Palmeiro -- considered the benchmark on how the Hall would treat 'roiders -- was included on a nasty 11 percent of all ballots. This compared to Mark McGwire, who had lesser numbers, but never turned in a positive test, who was put on 19 percent of the ballots. Palmeiro responded here.

Raffy's numbers don't lie. He's worthy, but the late-in-his-career positive steroids test, which he blames on a B12 shot (and every murderer in prison claims it was the other guy) sinks him.

I've been turned on the Hall. As much as certain individuals make me gag, the Hall should be a celebration of the game ... and this includes all the bad stuff. The Black Sox. Pete Rose. And the 'roiders.

Raffy doesn't deserve to be in the same Hall as Hank Aaron or Willie Mays because of his numbers, but because of his impact on the game and how it's changed the sports landscape.

Evan Grant -- a guy I love reading and I admire -- posted a rather shortsighted article today on why he voted for Palmeiro and not for McGwire.

Simply put, McGwire put up less numbers (although he did hit the 500 home run plateau) in the steroid era and Palmeiro's numbers were gargantuan ... but not done in the bulk of the steroid era.

B-U-N-K. It's such a silly argument that I can't believe Grant made it.

Grant pinpoints the 1996-1999 seasons as the meat of the steroid era, where he says McGwire hit most of his home runs. Zero argument. I would even expand those years.

During that period, Palmeiro hit 39, 38, 43 and, a career high, 47 home runs. That's 167 home runs, about 29 percent of his career 569 dingers.

Voters and pundits are blinded. They're blinded by assumptions and personal feelings, mostly.

We assume McGwire did steroids. We assume Palmeiro only did them once, late in his career.

Plus, the last we saw of Palmeiro was him wagging his finger at Congress denying he took steroids and then later claiming his positive test was a goof up, a mistake, a fluke. Whereas, McGwire's hid in the shadows and avoided discussion of his career.

Grant knows Palmeiro, just as many reporters in St. Louis or Oakland know McGwire. They know the real guy, the sweet guy that just loved the game and made a mistake. Or two.

Voters must break down future votes, if they consider steroids an automatic strike, into two categories: Postive test or no positive test.

Bagwell not getting into the Hall is a sham. More than anything, he was hurt by the cohorts of the 1990s and for playing in Houston. If Bagwell played in the 1970s, he'd be in.

We can only hope our unbias, stalwarts and overseers for the public, our journalists, can keep their perspectives from getting skewed.