Hall of Fame

The Hall of Fame in Cooperstown isn’t all that different than the White House; both are a place of reverence and awe.  We took Clare to the HOF the summer she was ten, and it was like Babe Ruth led her by the hand from plaque to plaque.  Cooperstown is not a place to screw around with.

Which is precisely what sportswriters do with their vote every year.  On Sunday, five writers for the Tribune shared their ballot, something they really ought not to have done.  Now, the world can see how dumb the profession can be.  Don Mattingly and Edgar Martinez got two votes while Gary Sheffield managed one.  Apparently, Martinez qualifies “because it’s time to acknowledge that designated hitters are part of the game” too.  Yeah, and I bet Harold Baines agrees.  As to Mattingly, I can only hope that Paul Konerko gets as much unconditional support—and then some—starting five years from now when his name goes on the ballot.

Then we have the columnist in today’s Sun-Times who goes after Bud Selig for not putting a stop to Sammy Sosa’s muscle-popping shenanigans.  But I don’t remember said columnist challenging Sosa or the commissioner, for that matter.  I know a bunch of people who suspected something was up, but we didn’t have a press pass to get into the locker room to see for ourselves.

The other irritant with the announcement of every new HOF class is the call for everyone to get over the steroids’ mess; the past is past, and deserving players should be voted in no matter how inflated their stats.  All I can say is that argument doesn’t hold up if you’re trying to raise a ten-year old right.