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February 26, 2007 Grumpy Old MenJAWS Tackles the Veterans Committee Ballot
In 2002, the Hall of Fame revamped its Veterans Committee. Formerly, it was the freight-elevator entrance to the institution for those unable to enter via the red-carpeted front door of the Baseball Writers Association of America ballot. Out went the old 15-member voting body, a group which included baseball executives, writers, and former players. That group annually conducted its dirty work behind closed doors, outside of which nobody knew who was up for election, and unless someone received 75 percent of the vote, nobody knew any results. With the process completely opaque and with accountability nil, cronyism and senility abounded, and errors that diluted the honor of election to the Hall were made. Legend has it that the Veterans Committee (or VC) elected the vastly inferior Waner brother, Lloyd, in a case of mistaken identity. For that among other reasons, I say good riddance to a flawed system. In its place is the new VC, a body of 84 eligible voters: 61 living Hall of Famers, 14 Frick Award recipients (broadcasters), eight Spink Award recipients (writers), and one "old VC" member whose term hadn't expired. The new VC uses a voting process analogous to the BBWAA's: a pre-screened ballot made public before a decentralized vote conducted by mail, with the results made public afterwards, and 75 percent of the vote required for election. The vote is held in odd-numbered years for players, and in every other odd-numbered year for nonplayers (managers, umpires, executives). The pool of potential honorees is determined by a panel of 60 BBWAA writers (two for each major league city/team) plus a board of six Hall of Famers; my colleague Steven Goldman turned a jaundiced eye on the new process last fall. It all looks good on paper, but a funny thing happened on the way to Cooperstown: nobody's been elected. Twice. In 2003, three players received a majority of the vote but less than the needed 75 percent supermajority: Gil Hodges (61.7 percent), Tony Oliva (59.3), and Ron Santo (56.8). Among the nonplayers, umpire Doug Harvey polled at 60.8 percent, with Dodgers owner Walter O'Malley at 48.1, and Marvin Miller at 44.3. In 2005, Hodges and Santo led the pack at 65 percent, with Oliva at 56.3, and Jim Kaat at 53.8. The only other player receiving more than a third of the vote was Joe Torre, at 45 percent. The no-winners result hasn't quite been the PR disaster it could have been, but that's not to say it's been a win, as both writers and players have used the shutout as a rather annoying exercise in self-congratulation. The writers use the goose-egg to reinforce the notion that they and their BBWAA brethren got the voting right the first (or fifteenth) time around, while the elected players are happy to keep their country club exclusive. The reductio ad absurdum on the latter front came when Reggie Jackson declared that Miller, the man whose efforts in mobilizing the Players' Association and overthrowing the Reserve Clause made him and his peers millionaires several times over, wasn't worthy of his vote: "I just feel the Hall of Fame itself should be for only players. The executives, managers, umpires and the others should be separate." Perhaps a few whacks upside the head with a fungo bat are what caused Reggie to see the light on the subject of Miller's candidacy, but it's unclear whether any of his fellow Cooperstowners will follow suit. Ultimately, the real question is whether any of the 27 players and 15 nonplayers eligible are worthy of election to the Hall. Compelling cases can be made for many of the individuals on the latter ballot, even scoundrels like Charlie Finley (the iconoclastic owner who turned a moribund Athletics franchise into a three-time World Champion by signing many top players himself and moving the team to Oakland...) if not Bowie Kuhn ("This strike wouldn't have happened if Bowie Kuhn were alive today," Red Smith kidded about the reigning commissioner in 1981). My personal votes would go to Miller and the following:
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