Baseball is the most sacred of sports to me. Growing up in New Ulm, everyone played baseball, and we were taught from early on to treat the game with respect and a level of reverence unseen in any other sport.
There is so much perfection in the set-up of the game. The way the diamond is situated, the preciseness of a pitching rubber set at 60 feet and six inches, three strikes to get out but four balls to walk: all these create such an awesome game that I’m always much more eager for the start of baseball season than any other sport.
Another great thing about baseball is the diversity of each field. There are no two alike. The height of the outfield walls varies, even within a stadium. The amount of foul territory is different. A good grounds crew will manicure an infield to fit the abilities of the home team. All these things serve to give a true home field advantage, more so than any other sport. Just think of how many baseballs opponents lost in the roof of the Metrodome compared to our Twins!
One of the best things, though, about baseball is its Hall of Fame. Visiting Cooperstown is on my bucket list, and I have a feeling I could spend days wandering around. I’ve read a number of historical baseball books over the years, and part of my love of the sport is my appreciation of its past. For football and basketball, I couldn’t name more than a few players before the 1960s. In baseball, I can go back to the 1800s to talk about things I know. The rich history of this sport is part of its appeal.
And that leads me to the election process for the Hall of Fame. There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth this past week when nobody was elected this year. I read some articles and listened to some baseball people on the radio because I was initially shocked by all this. However, it’s probably a good thing nobody got in this year.
The Hall of Fame is supposed to be special. Sometimes I think it’s already overloaded. Did Jack Morris deserve to get in? Well, was he one of the greatest to ever play the game? He was a great pitcher, and no Minnesota Twins fan will ever forget Game 7 in 1991. But…was he one of the greatest to ever play the game?
I don’t necessarily go on just numbers when I look at baseball players. If so, we’d never elect another pitcher again after Tom Glavine and Greg Maddux get in, because it’s highly unlikely that any will reach 300 wins again. I heard all kinds of numbers supporting Morris’ election, but nothing that showed me he was one of the greatest to ever play the game.
When Bert Blyleven had to wait and wait to get in, I don’t think that was right either. What makes a player not worthy one year and then worthy the next? Will something about his career have changed? Blyleven was one of the greatest to ever play the game, and his long wait was a disgrace.
On the other hand, with all the suspicion of performance-enhancing drugs in this year’s and future crops of potential inductees, maybe it’s better to wait and see if anything ever comes out of investigations. I’d never vote Barry Bonds into the Hall of Fame, but I would consider Roger Clemens, based on current evidence.
Maybe it’s a good thing they don’t let me vote. I’d probably hem and haw, just like some of these current voters. In the end, the process usually seems to work. It’s just like who gets left out of the NCAA basketball tournament or who doesn’t make a BCS bowl game: there will always be people who disagree. That doesn’t tarnish the greatest game and the best Hall of Fame in sports.
Word of the Week: This week’s word is borborygmus, which is the rumbling noise your stomach makes, often when you’re hungry, as in, “The borborygmus that his stomach uttered was loud enough to disrupt the noon meeting.” Thanks to Tali Wayne for giving me another awesome word! Impress your friends and confuse your enemies!