The Hall of Fame ballot arrived in the mail last month, filled with tough choices. Too many steroid guys, too many close calls.
And one sure-fire, no-doubt Hall of Famer.
If the Hall allowed us just one vote a year, this would have been the easiest ballot ever.
Put a check next to Ken Griffey Jr. Sign the ballot and mail it in.
And I would have been fine with that.
There’s an argument to be made that if you’re not sure a guy belongs in the Hall of Fame, he probably doesn’t. There’s an argument that the Hall should belong to guys like Griffey, where you don’t need to study the stats or the Mitchell Report to know he deserves your vote.
But we do study, and we do look beyond the obvious names. We get as many as 10 votes a year, not just one, and some of my colleagues (notably my friend Jim Caple of ESPN.com) have made a strong argument we shouldn’t be limited to 10. The disagreement over whether “steroid guys” should get in has led to ballot congestion, because tainted stars like Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens get enough votes to remain on the ballot (more than 5 percent) but not enough to get elected (less than 75 percent).
I understand the debate, but I find it hard to complain, because I used only nine of my 10 available votes. I stopped automatically eliminating guys like Bonds and Clemens two years ago, and I still didn’t get to 10. If anything, the 10-vote limit helps sharpen my decision.
I began with Griffey, one of the easiest calls since I began voting 15 years ago. I quickly added Bonds and Clemens. I took a while to get to nine, and a lot longer to decide against a 10th.
Many of you won’t agree with my Bonds/Clemens call. Plenty will argue about other guys I have on my ballot, and about those I don’t.
I can’t imagine anyone complaining about Griffey.
I love the passion the Hall of Fame voting generates. I’ll even accept the silly name-calling, because I take it simply as proof of that passion.
Rather than a player-by-player rundown, here’s a look into the thought process that went into one ballot (after Griffey).
First question: Do I keep voting for the “steroid guys,” as I have the last two years?
I’ve never been totally comfortable voting for Bonds, Clemens and Mark McGwire, because I’ve never been totally comfortable with the idea of having them stand on that stage in Cooperstown, New York, to be celebrated by the game they likely cheated. I didn’t vote for Bonds or Clemens in 2013, the first year they were on the ballot, for exactly that reason.
A year later, I flipped, because I was even less comfortable excluding the “steroid guys” we know about while inevitably voting for many players who were likely just as guilty. Baseball and its players association never allowed us to know which of those players also cheated, because testing and suspensions didn’t come into the game until June 2004.
I fully respect those many colleagues who continue to withhold votes. Neither Bonds nor Clemens has ever reached even 40 percent, with 75 percent required for election. But I don’t want to be the one deciding which players cheated and which didn’t, so in my mind the ultimate choice was between voting for none of the players from that era or considering all of them.
For now, I’ll continue considering all of them, with another test coming next winter when Manny Ramirez (a drug suspension, and retirement to avoid another one) first appears on the ballot.
So Bonds, Clemens and McGwire get check marks on my ballot again this year, and others whose drug use is more suspected than proven remain under consideration as well.
Second question: Do I renew my support for the seven players I voted for last year who remain on the ballot?
I used all 10 votes last year, and three of them went to players who were ultimately elected (Randy Johnson, Pedro Martinez and John Smoltz). If I’d been allowed 11 votes, I may well have given one to Craig Biggio, who also got in.
That left Bonds, Clemens, McGwire, Mike Piazza, Tim Raines, Curt Schilling and Alan Trammell.
I revisit every player’s case every year, but after reconsidering all seven I saw no reason to take away any of those votes.
Third question: Besides Griffey, do any newcomers belong on the ballot?
Most of the 15 new names on the ballot were easy to dismiss. Sorry, Brad Ausmus, David Eckstein and Mike Sweeney, among others.
You can make a case for closers Trevor Hoffman and Billy Wagner, and for outfielder Jim Edmonds. Hoffman makes my ballot, because even though saves are an imperfect stat, his 601 are far and away the most of anyone not named Mariano Rivera and helped make him one of the dominant players of his era.
Wagner and Edmonds got serious consideration but fall just short of the dominance you want in a Hall of Famer.
Fourth question: Seven holdovers plus two newcomers means one available vote. Who gets it?
For a week, my ballot had those nine names checked. For a week, I had an “almost” list of four names I looked at every day. I saw reasons for voting for Edgar Martinez, Mike Mussina, Jeff Bagwell and Larry Walker, but I only had room for one of them.
In the end, I voted for none of them. The more I looked at the case for each, I realized I wasn’t convinced about any of them. In a vote for the Hall of Fame, I wanted to be convinced. Unless they get in (possible) or get dropped from the ballot, I’ll give them another look next year.
For this year, I stuck with nine.
Some of them have no chance of getting elected this year. Some of them could be hurt because voters who believe there are more than 10 worthy candidates need to make tough choices.
Early estimates suggest a few could get in, but it could be that Ken Griffey Jr. ends up being the only player elected.
And I’d be fine with that.
Danny Knobler covers Major League Baseball as a national columnist for Bleacher Report.
Follow Danny on Twitter and talk baseball.
Read more MLB news on BleacherReport.com