Kuzul

Ken Griffey Jr. received some awesome news Wednesday, as he found out he had gotten more support in the Baseball Hall of Fame voting than any other player in history.

And yet, we can still say he got robbed.

Griffey, on the ballot for the first time, received 99.3 percent of the Baseball Writers Association of America’s votes for the 2016 Hall of Fame class. That’s a new record, snapping Tom Seaver’s record of 98.84 percent. Cue a helpful graphic, courtesy of MLB Stat of the Day:

For Griffey himself, this is kind of a big deal. Upon learning the news, the former Seattle Mariners and Cincinnati Reds star told Ryan Divish of the Seattle Times: “To have the highest percentage is a shock.”

Nobody can tell Griffey he should feel differently; 99.3 percent is a big number.

But for the rest of us, there’s no escaping the notion that 99.3 isn’t quite big enough.

The Hall of Fame has never had a player voted in unanimously, but that doesn’t stop John and Jane Q. Baseball Fan from waiting and hoping for the first to come along. And for a time there, it actually seemed like Griffey had a shot. According to Hall of Fame ballot tracker Ryan Thibodaux, Griffey had been named on all 213 ballots made public before the announcement.

However, that was a little less than half of the 440 total ballots. And somewhere in the remaining 227 are three that don’t have the box next to Griffey’s name checked.

Now, look. It’s probably silly to feel outraged. Actually, check that: It’s definitely silly to feel outraged. Given that there’s never been a unanimous Hall of Famer, the odds were stacked against Griffey. Even for those of us who followed along with Thibodaux’s reports, there was always a suspicion that Griffey’s share of the vote wasn’t going to hold at 100 percent.

But yet, the disappointment is still there. For Griffey to get 100 percent of the vote, it only would have taken the 440 writers casting their votes realizing the same thing that anyone who ever watched Griffey play did:

That he deserved it.

How to define a Hall of Fame-worthy player is one of those things that can lead to a debate over the fine print. However, we can mostly agree that a player’s candidacy comes down to how great he was throughout his entire career, how dominant he was in his prime and, in general, what kind of mark he left on the game.

And on all three of these fronts, Griffey passes with flying colors.

In a 22-year career that began in 1989 and ended in 2010, Griffey hit .284 with a .907 OPS, 630 home runs and 184 steals, all while also playing mostly fantastic defense in center field. He ranks sixth on the all-time home runs list, and the Jaffe WAR Score System (JAWS) rates him as the fifth-best center fielder in MLB history.

Even more impressive is what Griffey did when he was at his absolute best as “The Kid” between 1990 and 2000. In that 11-year period, he hit .299 with a .963 OPS and averaged 38 home runs and 14 stolen bases per season. He led the American League in home runs four times, made the All-Star team every year and won all 10 of his Gold Gloves.

Was Griffey the best player of that era? Whether you ask Baseball-Reference.com WAR or FanGraphs WAR, it was between him and Barry Bonds.

Where there would seem to be no argument, though, is in saying Griffey defined that era more than any other player.

Even beyond Griffey’s amazing play on both sides of the ball, there were things about him that endeared him to millions of baseball fans. His thousand-watt smile. His backward cap. His swaggerific stance and swing. And, of course, the eternally awesome Ken Griffey Jr. Presents Major League Baseball video game.

So, yes. What Jeff Passan of Yahoo Sports said:

If anything, the passing of years since Griffey’s prime has only further entrenched him as the defining player of the 1990s. We now know that much of that era’s excitement was fueled by performance-enhancing drugs, and the reputations of those who indulged have suffered accordingly.

But not Griffey. There’s never been anything more than whispers and baseless accusations tying him to PEDs. And given that he never ballooned in size like so many of his slugging contemporaries, it’s easy to believe he had nothing to do with the stuff.

All this leaves only one regrettable aspect of Griffey’s career: the notion that maybe it could have been better. Had his body not broken down as he progressed deeper into his 30s, odds are we would be referring to him not as one of the greatest ever but the greatest ever.

Still, that feels like a minor gripe next to everything else. Griffey was everything anyone could ever ask for in a Hall of Famer: a truly great player who, for quite a bit of time, was bigger than the game.

Looking back over history, this is obviously something that can be said of many of the players already in Cooperstown. For our purposes, this is another way of saying that the race to 100 percent should have been over long before his name appeared on the ballot. That’s a tradition that should have started with Babe Ruth and Ty Cobb in first election in 1936, and continued on with greats like Ted Williams, Willie Mays, Hank Aaron, and so on down the line.

We therefore should not confuse Griffey as the first player in history deserving of a unanimous selection. We can only look at him as the most recent player deserving of a unanimous selection, and thus the most recent misfire on the part of the voting.

This naturally raises a question that, for dramatic effect, we will express all in caps: SO, WHY THE HECK ISN’T HE A UNANIMOUS HALL OF FAMER?

For now, we have no idea. But as far as guesses go, we can only hope that Griffey wasn’t left off three ballots for petty reasons.

For example, there have been voters in the past who simply don’t vote for guys their first year on the ballot. Other voters have refrained from voting for players who they’re even slightly suspicious may have used PEDs. If this is how Griffey was kept short of 100 percent, we’re going to need that shame lady from Game of Thrones.

Rather, one hopes that the three voters who didn’t check Griffey’s name at least had a practical reason: game theory. That is, they didn’t vote for Griffey because they figured he didn’t need their help, and chose to use one of their 10 votes on a player who they figured did need it.

Whatever the case, the three who didn’t vote for Griffey have no reason to fear him. As the man himself said of the three votes he didn’t get, per Bill Shaikin of the Los Angeles Times: “I can’t be upset. I’m truly honored to be elected.”

Which is fine. But if Griffey doesn’t want to say it, it’s up to us.

Long live The Kid. The Kid got robbed.

Stats courtesy of Baseball-Reference.com and FanGraphs unless otherwise noted/linked.

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When Ken Griffey Jr. received the call he had been inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame on Wednesday, it was pretty casual.

His response? A simple “Thank you.”

Griffey received the call about his record-setting 99.3 percent vote (437 out of 440 ballots) while leaning over an island in his kitchen with Jack O’Connell of the Baseball Writers’ Association of America on speakerphone. 

[ESPN]

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They write songs about center fielders, from (where have you gone) Joe DiMaggio to Willie, Mickey and the Duke. They write books about center fielders.

Catchers, shortstops and first basemen are important, but center fielders live on.

And yet in all the years of the Hall of Fame, only six players who started at least 1,500 games in center field have been voted in by the Baseball Writers Association of America. On Wednesday, it will become seven.

On Wednesday, Ken Griffey Jr. will take his rightful place next to DiMaggio, next to Willie (Mays), Mickey (Mantle) and the Duke (Snider). And next to Ty Cobb and Tris Speaker as well.

It would be hard to think of a more rightful heir.

Griffey starred. He did it with style. And after nearly three decades where center fielders were mostly forgotten, Junior made it glamorous again.

Just as kids of the 1950s and ’60s grew up wanting to be Mays or Mantle, kids wanted to be Griffey. They wanted to hit like him and field like him, and they wanted to style like him.

As Andrew McCutchen wrote last year in the Players’ Tribune, “From the time I first stepped up in front of a tee-ball stand, I was trying to waggle my bat just like Ken Griffey Jr.”

Now, McCutchen is a star center fielder with the Pittsburgh Pirates, and now, Los Angeles Angels center fielder Mike Trout may well be the best player in the game. It’s too early to say we’re seeing the start of a new era of center field stars but not at all too early to declare Griffey as the founding father.

He was born the year after Mantle retired and was just three years old when Mays stumbled through his final season with the New York Mets. He grew up in a decade when Amos Otis and Cesar Cedeno were the best of a modest center field lot.

Dale Murphy, who could have been a Hall of Famer, followed them, and Kirby Puckett, who is a Hall of Famer, came after that. But no one really followed through to become what DiMaggio, Mantle and Mays were.

Griffey did. He played much of his career way out there in Seattle, a baseball outpost when he arrived as a 19-year-old in 1989. His games started too late for most of the country to watch, and most of them weren’t on national television, anyway. The team around him was ordinary enough that the Mariners won just one postseason series while he was there.

Didn’t matter. During the 22 seasons Griffey played in the major leagues, no one in the game was more recognizable.

Not everyone liked the way he wore his cap, but who couldn’t love that smile? Who couldn’t love the swing that produced 630 home runs or the way he chased down all those fly balls that shouldn’t have been caught?

He made the best catch I ever saw in person, in 1998 at Tiger Stadium, when he leaped high over the right-center field fence to rob Luis Gonzalez (chronicled here by Larry Stone of the Seattle Times). He made so many other great catches that when he was asked to name his five best, the Gonzalez play didn’t even make the cut.

He made it through the steroid era without ever feeling the taint, so when his name first appeared on the Hall of Fame ballot this winter, the only question was how close he would come to being a unanimous choice.

In fact, of the 181 ballots made public and posted on BBHoFTracker as of Wednesday morning, Griffey appeared on every one. We’ll find out at 6 p.m. ET Wednesday how many other votes he’ll get.

No one has ever been a unanimous pick. DiMaggio made just 88.8 percent of the ballots in 1955, the year he was elected. Mantle made 88.2 percent in 1974, and Mays made 94.7 percent (409-of-432) in 1979. Pitcher Tom Seaver came closest, missing just five of 430 ballots in 1992.

It’s a nice thing to watch for, and no one will mind if Griffey gets it. But in the end, it hardly matters, because Griffey’s legacy doesn’t depend on any number, any more than the legacies of Mays and Mantle did.

“Great players played center field,” said Art Stewart, the 88-year-old Kansas City Royals executive. “I saw Griffey his entire life, from high school all the way through the big leagues. He absolutely belongs with those greats.

“No question he belongs in that class. No question.”

No question, center field is glamorous in baseball again, with Trout and McCutchen both already owning Most Valuable Player awards. Bryce Harper has one, too, and while he played just 13 games in center field when he won it last season, he could end up playing there again.

Griffey played there 2,145 times. He played a few games in left field, a few more in right and a few as a designated hitter, but he was always a center fielder. He was what DiMaggio was, what Mays was, what Mantle was.

All he needs is a song.

Danny Knobler covers Major League Baseball as a national columnist for Bleacher Report.

Follow Danny on Twitter and talk baseball.

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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.

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The sure thing is present on the ballot.

So are a couple of guys who will spark debates about who was better over the course of their storied careers. There is also a fan favorite with plenty of clips for his highlight reel among the first-timers appearing on Major League Baseball’s Hall of Fame ballot.

Baseball’s Hall of Fame released its ballot for 2016 induction Monday, and 15 newcomers are on it along with holdovers such as Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Mike Piazza, Curt Schilling and Tim Raines among others.

Ken Griffey Jr. is the no-brainer inductee among the first-time candidates. Closers Trevor Hoffman and Billy Wagner might not get in on their first try, but both have strong cases for eventual inclusion into the Hall. So does Jim Edmonds, who was not the great all-around player Griffey was but is certainly deserving of his share of votes to accompany his highlight-worthy catches.

Aside from those four ballot newcomers, the Hall of Fame included Garret Anderson, Brad Ausmus, Luis Castillo, David Eckstein, Troy Glaus, Mark Grudzielanek, Mike Hampton, Jason Kendall, Mike Lowell, Mike Sweeney and Randy Winn.

Some of those players ended their careers as very good major leaguers but not Hall of Fame-worthy ones. A decent number of them could fall off the ballot after one year because they won’t get the necessary five percent of the vote to remain in the running.

While chances are slim for many, Griffey could end up being a nearly unanimous pick. What might hold him back from 100 percent? That would be the second half of his career, which was good—he had a 117 OPS+ in his final 11 seasons—but far from great.

The first 11 campaigns of Griffey’s 22-year career were nothing short of spectacular. He was an All-Star in 10 of those 11 years, missing out only during his rookie season of 1989. He led the American League in home runs four times and hit 398 total. He won the league’s MVP once and finished in the top 10 six other times. He also won 10 consecutive Gold Gloves and seven Silver Slugger awards. 

More intangible things tell us that Griffey helped change the way baseball marketed itself to the general public. His memorable “Griffey In ’96” Nike advertising campaign, which featured him in his signature backward Seattle Mariners cap, was the stuff of marketing legend.

And there was his line of baseball video games for Nintendo, the first of which sold more than one million copies, and his unforgettable guest appearance on The Simpsons’ “Homer at the Bat” episode in 1992.

Those things should not be discounted when considering Griffey’s impact on the sport and especially on an entire generation of baseball fans.

Griffey’s numbers speak for themselves, but he meant more than just his on-field exploits during his prime. His deserving status as a first-ballot Hall of Famer is an easy call.

Hoffman is considered one of the best closers to ever pitch a ninth inning. His 601 saves, 2.87 ERA and 141 ERA+ speak to how effective he was. He also had nine seasons of at least 40 saves.

Hoffman will almost certainly get into the Hall of Fame eventually, but a few things are working against his getting in on the first ballot. First, he was not very good when the stage was at its biggest, as he blew two of his six career playoff save opportunities, had a loss in another game and blew the save and took the loss in a Game 163 loss to the Colorado Rockies in 2007.

Second, Baseball Writers’ Association of America voters typically have a more difficult time evaluating relievers more than any other position. Hoffman knows that will make things tough.

“There’s going to be that group [of voters] that won’t vote for somebody in their first year,” Hoffman told MLB.com’s Barry Bloom in a recent interview. “Is that going to be indicative of where the vote goes after that? I don’t know. Then there’s another group that doesn’t know how to handle relief pitchers. There are no guarantees.”

A third thing stifling Hoffman’s first-ballot chances is Wagner’s presence. He was the more dominant closer, though he did not have the counting stats Hoffman accumulated—most notably saves. Wagner had 422. 

Despite trailing Hoffman by 179 saves, Wagner had a better ERA (2.31), a lower opponents’ slash line (.187/.262/.296 against Hoffman’s .211/.267/.342) and a higher strikeout rate per nine innings (11.9 against Hoffman’s 9.4). Wagner also had a better end to his career, posting a 1.43 ERA, 275 ERA+ and 13.5 strikeouts per nine in his final season.

This gives Wagner a strong case for Hall of Fame election, though he is highly unlikely to make it on the first ballot. Working against him, aside from his status as a reliever, is that Wagner had similar results to Hoffman in the postseason with his 10.03 ERA in 11.2 innings.

Edmonds is the second-best position player of the newcomers. Some voters like longevity; others look at a player’s prime seasons as a better gauge of his greatness, and Edmonds appeals in both categories, for the most part.

In the five seasons from 2000 to 2004, Edmonds was truly great. Aside from being an elite defensive center fielder, he had a .298/.410/.593 slash line, a 1.003 OPS, 181 home runs and 157 OPS+. He also averaged 6.4 wins above replacement, per Baseball-Reference.com, and 6.8 WAR, according to FanGraphs, per season during that span.

That is a small sample of campaigns, but from 1995 through 2005, Edmonds ranks third in FanGraphs’ WAR behind Bonds and Alex Rodriguez with 58.8. That makes Edmonds’ Hall of Fame case quite impressive, though his chances at inclusion after one year on the ballot still seem slim as increasing votes for some of the holdovers and the 10-player voting limit may hold down his total.

This ballot is loaded with Hall of Fame-worthy talent, but the performance-enhancing drug issue still clouds the voting and probably will not allow for more than Griffey and maybe Piazza this time around. However, of the first-timers on this ballot, the aforementioned four players have the strongest cases.

Now we wait to see how the voting pool swings when results are announced January 6.

All quotes, unless otherwise specified, have been acquired first-hand by Anthony Witrado. Follow Anthony on Twitter @awitrado and talk baseball here.

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Back in 1996, on a rainy day in Appleton, Wisconsin, the Seattle Mariners bought major league baseball to a small town in a way that nobody ever expected.

In an effort to churn up interest in their minor league affiliates, the Seattle Mariners went on a barnstorming tour, bringing the major leagues to a handful of minor league parks around the country for some exhibition baseball.

That included a stop at Fox Cities Field to take on their Single-A affiliate, the Wisconsin Timber Rattlers.

With a packed house that stayed, despite the rain, growing restless, Seattle manager Lou Piniella refused to send his team on the field even if the rain subsided, pointing to the fact that he wasn’t about to risk one of his stars getting injured on a wet field in a meaningless game while the team was in a pennant race.

But, should the rain come to an end, the teams needed to do something for the masses.

So Mariners catcher Dan Wilson hatched an ingenious plan: Home Run Derby.

Wilson, Ken Griffey Jr. and Alex Rodriguez, who started his career in Appleton back in 1994, would take on any three players that the Timber Rattlers dared send to the plate. Little did they know, the home team had a ringer.

After watching Junior struggle to hit the ball out of the yard, generating some good-natured ribbing from the fans in attendance, up to the plate stepped a relatively unknown 20-year-old first baseman by the name of David Ortiz.

And he put on a show.

Ortiz hit moonshot after moonshot, leaving Griffey speechless and Rodriguez conceding the contest to his future contemporary, exclaiming “I ain’t got a chance” as Ortiz crushed another pitch.

Who would have imagined that, nearly 20 years later, all three players would have Hall of Fame-caliber numbers—but that only the guy who couldn’t go deep would have a clear path into Cooperstown’s hallowed halls?

Irony at its finest.

*H/T to CBS Sports’ Matt Snyder for the find.

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Mike Trout is going to be the 2012 American League Rookie of the Year, but before anyone jumps the gun, keep in mind that Trout isn’t the first ROY, and won’t be the last. He still has a lot to work on before being mentioned in the same breath as Mickey Mantle or Ken Griffey Jr. 

Don’t get me wrong, Trout is a five-tooler. He runs like the wind (first in the bigs with 36 stolen bases), hits for power (21 homers), hits for average (tops in the A.L. with .345 avg.), wows us with his defensive skills (this explains it all) and has a cannon for an arm (I don’t have a video, but trust me on this one).

But regardless of those numbers, Mike Trout still hasn’t proven himself to be one of the best players ever. That’s not his fault, though. He hasn’t had the opportunity to play a fruitful 15-20 year career, yet.

Is he one of the best rookies of all time? Maybe. But it’s up for debate if he’s THE best rookie. If it were up to me, that honor would go to “Shoeless” Joe Jackson in his 1911 rookie campaign.

Jackson had a 9.9 WAR (via fangraphs), batted .408/.468./.590, finishing fourth in MVP voting, behind Hall of Famers Eddie Collins, “Big” Ed Walsh and Ty Cobb. And he did it at a respectable 24 years old. 

But alas, this isn’t a history lesson; just food for thought.

Mike Trout has been compared to the likes of Mickey Mantle, and being mentioned in the same sentence as the legend is remarkable on itself, but let me remind you of one thing: He has yet to complete a full season in the majors. 

In 90 games, Trout has proven to us that he can pad his stats in a very short amount of time, but at the end of the day, having one great season doesn’t mean you’ll have ten more just like it. 

What will really make him a superstar is whether or not he can maintain consistency at the MLB level for years to come. The bar has been set very high for Trout, because no one is thinking about this season anymore, but instead, they’re thinking about the impact he’ll have on baseball in the future. 

There is a possibility that Trout steamrolls opposing pitchers in his rookie season, then falls off the truck and never lives up to it again; he wouldn’t be the first.

In 2008, Geovany Soto was the National League rookie of the year, batting .285/.364/.504 (not Mike Trout numbers, but bear with me). He has yet to come close to those numbers again, ultimately resulting in his trade in 2012.

This is a small example, but all I’m saying is don’t be surprised if pitchers figure out Trout’s tendencies in 2013, forcing him to make adjustments and testing his mental capacity. 

From a physical standpoint, he could be a 10-year all-star if he keeps this up, but in reality there is one major difference between major and minor leaguers. Major league ballplayers are consistent.

Minor leaguers might have the talent, more talent than their major league counterparts, but they can’t make adjustments and stay consistent enough, ultimately forcing them to ride buses for the remainder of their careers. 

A lot of people are asking, “is there anything Mike Trout hasn’t done?”. Well, it’s the one thing he has no control over: have an illustrious career.

There is no way to predict a home run king, or an all-time hits leader, or someone breaking the stolen base record, because although the talent might be there, it’s not all that’s required. To be a legend, you need to have mental grit, you need to stay healthy, you need to be smart and you have to, above all, stay consistent and let your playing do the talking. 

Joe Jackson batted .300 every season following his rookie year except for once (.272), going out with a .382/.444/.589 slash line in his final season of baseball in 1920, after being banned in the 1919 Black Sox World Series scandal (where he batted .375 with 12 hits, the best of the series’ and committed no errors).

If Mike Trout can play stellar baseball for years upon years to come, I’ll eat my words. But for now let’s enjoy the Mike Trout show, because just like everything else he does, this may never happen again.

For him, or anyone else. 

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After reading through these slides, your appreciation for the “Iron Man” Cal Ripken Jr. will only grow.

Major League Baseball boasts the longest and most grueling season in professional sports, so injuries are undoubtedly expected.

But there’s a fine line between injuries and injury-plagued players.

I’m not talking “soft” in regards to attitude or style of play, but rather health and being able to stay on the field and perform at a high level.

I’m sure there’s a long list of other players who belong on this list, but here are 14 of the most oft-injured players in the past 25 years.

Begin Slideshow

Barry Bonds awaits his fate in a federal courthouse in San Francisco for allegedly lying about knowingly using steroids.

Whatever the outcome of that case, one thing is for certain: Bonds deprived us of more than we know as baseball fans.  It’s not just the asterisks that we attach to the records Bonds broke; it’s more than that.  It’s what he didn’t allow us to see: a great player who achieved so much through natural ability and dedication to his craft, who then got older and slowed down.

That’s right.  We didn’t get to see Barry decline, and that’s not fair to the game of baseball or its fans.

One of the biggest reasons baseball is America’s pastime—the game of our forefathers, and now our game—is because we can identify with those who compete on the diamond.  We see ourselves in so many of our heroes on the baseball field, both in their triumphs and defeats.  We see men who toil in the minor leagues for years and years before finally getting their shot on the big stage under the bright lights.  We see those who have such a beautiful, natural gift for the game, that it’s simply a joy to watch them display that day-in and day-out.

That’s why we see movies like “The Rookie” (where a middle-aged high school baseball coach gets a chance in the big leagues in his 40s) and “The Natural” (where Robert Redford plays Roy Hobbs, “the greatest there ever was”).

We see tragedy, as when Lou Gehrig caught “a bad break”, being diagnosed with ALS (thereafter named “Lou Gherig’s disease”), forcing him into early retirement and, rapidly, into an early exit from this life.  We see triumph, like when hobbled pinch-hitter Kirk Gibson of the Dodgers limped to home plate in Game 1 of the 1988 World Series to face the toughest closer in the game, Dennis Eckersley, and homered to win it for Los Angeles, propelling the underdog Dodgers to a world championship over the heavily-favored Athletics.

These moments remind us of our own challenges, fears, failures, courage, and triumphs.  We gain strength by seeing a man hit a round ball with a round bat, while other men chase that ball down.  Baseball mimics life, and beautifully at that.  That’s why we’re so addicted to it.  It gives us something to remind us of who we are and what we can achieve.

One of the most important lessons we learn from baseball is that nothing lasts forever.  It’s true in the game, and it’s true in life.  Our heroes of the diamond are great ballplayers for 10, maybe even 15 years, but then they start to fade and their skills begin to erode right before our eyes.  Willie Mays may have said it best, from the perspective of one of the greatest of all-time: “Growing old is just a helpless hurt.”  The 41-year-old Mays said that after he had fallen in the outfield during the 1973 World Series, when he was a member of the New York Mets.  It was clear that diminishing skills and an aging body were even catching up with the Say Hey Kid.

Willie Mays is just one of many great players in baseball history that were among the best in the game during their primes, but whose ability faded with the passage of time, helping us see that we should make the most of what we have in life, and more than that, the most of what we have to give.  More recently, we’ve seen some of the greatest players of our own generation hang up the spikes after coming to the realization that they just don’t have enough anymore.

Chief among them: Ken Griffey, Jr.  Junior Griffey was perhaps the greatest player of the 1990s, and were it not for numerous injuries that plagued him later in his career, he would have very likely passed Hank Aaron on the all-time home run list.  Griffey finished with 630 home runs, and was a 12-time all-star and 10-time Gold Glove award winner.  But in the last few seasons of his career, he changed physically, visibly gaining weight, as well as on the field, becoming a designated hitter rather than patrolling his usual center field territory with the Seattle Mariners.  It was rumored last season, before he retired, that he fell asleep in the clubhouse during a Mariners game.

But Griffey’s limitations were, in a way, refreshing to witness.  It was clear that time had caught up with the former superstar, and the myriad injuries that hindered him during his career showed that he is, indeed, human.  By 2009, it was clear that Griffey was in decline.  In 117 games for the Mariners that season, he hit just .214 with 57 RBI.  The Kid retired in 2010 after a storied big league career, leaving a legacy as one of the most beloved stars in baseball history—in Seattle and around the baseball world.

And then there’s Barry Bonds.

From 1986, when Bonds broke into the big leagues, through 1998 (the year before he allegedly began using steroids), he was an eight-time all-star, three-time National League MVP, seven-time Silver Slugger award-winner, and eight-time Gold Glove award winner.

Those are first ballot Hall of Fame numbers.

Then in 1999 things began to change.  Bonds body went through extraordinary changes.  He bulked up immensely, and his head, hands and feet appeared to have grown as well.  Before 1999, the most home runs Bonds had ever hit in a single season was 46 in 1993.  In 2000 he hit 49.  Then in 2001, he hit 73.  In that season, he only had 49 singles.  47% of his hits were homers, and 69% of hits were extra-base hits.  These numbers were mind-boggling, especially for a man who was now 37 years old.

How does a ballplayer who never hit more than 46 homers in a season in his 20s hit 73 when he was almost 40?  Well, we all know the story.

And it’s a sad one.  Baseball is a game for the common man, and it should be played by the common man—not one who has added artificial strength to excel past his peers in the sport.

In a strange way, we want to—no, we need to—see our heroes decline.  It shows us truth, and it shows us integrity and grace from those like Willie Mays and Ken Griffey, Jr., who played with what they naturally had.  They thrilled us with their natural abilities while in their prime, and we watched in sadness but with great respect and admiration when they struggled through their decline.

Outside of San Francisco, and perhaps even somewhere inside as well, there was no respect or admiration for what Bonds did.

He may have hit a lot of home runs.  But he did not give us what we wanted to see.

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During their primes Barry Bonds and Ken Griffey, Jr. were the two greatest hitters of their era.

Both second-generation ballplayers, having famous fathers who had enjoyed their own successful careers, Bonds and Griffey were lifelong acquaintances that had similar career paths and comparable numbers through their primes.

While their paths to Major League Baseball were similar, their legacies would wind up very different.

Barry Bonds debuted with the Pittsburgh Pirates in 1986 and went on to finish sixth in Rookie of the Year voting at the age of 21. He would play seven seasons for the Pirates, totaling 176 career home runs, batting .275 and winning two MVP awards, before signing as a free agent with the San Francisco Giants in 1993.

From 1993-2007, Bonds would rewrite the history books while wearing a San Francisco Giants uniform, playing for the team his father had. Bonds would go on to win six more MVP awards during that span and amass an unbelievable 586 additional home runs, including a single-season record 73 home runs in 2001. By the time Barry would finish playing his final major-league game in 2007, he would own the career record for home runs with 762.

Ken Griffey, Jr. had his own share of early success. Griffey debuted with the Seattle Mariners in 1989 at the age of 19 and finished third in Rookie of the Year voting. In 11 seasons with the Mariners, Griffey would receive MVP votes in nine seasons, winning the 1997 MVP award.

Griffey would hit 398 career home runs in his first stint with the Mariners while batting .299 over the 11-year span. The Seattle Mariners truly had the most iconic player of his generation during his prime.

In 2000, at the age of 30, Griffey requested and was granted a trade to Cincinnati in order to play closer to his home in Florida. Griffey’s tenure with the Reds was marred with injuries and was nowhere close to the elite level of play he enjoyed while a member of the Mariners. While playing for Cincinnati, Griffey would enjoy several key milestones: Home runs number 400, 500 and 600 would all come while wearing the same Reds uniform his father wore.

In 2008 the Reds traded Griffey to the Chicago White Sox for the remainder of the season. In 2009, Junior would re-sign with the Seattle Mariners to bring his career full circle and eventually retire with the team that gave him his start. Griffey retired in the middle of last season with 630 career home runs, 132 behind his longtime friend, Barry Bonds.

It was long before their careers wound down, though, that Bonds and Griffey found themselves heading in different directions.

Following the conclusion of the home run chase between Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa in 1998 that captured the attention of the country, Bonds and Griffey reportedly met in Florida at Griffey’s house. The two had a discussion that would see them make very different decisions that will ultimately affect how both are remembered.

In his book Love Me, Hate Me, Jeff Pearlman tells a story in which Bonds met with Griffey and confided in his longtime friend over dinner that he was about to start taking some “hard-core stuff.” Bonds was jealous of the attention that McGwire and Sosa received, feeling that he was the superior athlete and ballplayer and was not receiving his due recognition. While Bonds chose to elevate his game by cheating, Griffey chose to stay clean.

For the record, Griffey defended Bonds and stated to MLB.com back in 2006 that he did not recall such a conversation ever taking place.

Regardless of whether or not the conversation happened, the decision by Bonds to use steroids, and Griffey to remain clean, alters the outcomes of two great careers.

Both players are now out of the game; only memories of their accomplishments remain. Bonds was shunned by all 30 teams following the 2007 season, and Griffey retired in the middle of the 2010 season quietly and without any fanfare—a sad ending to the careers of two of baseball’s greatest players.

In neither case was it the end to their baseball stories though.

Barry Bonds will be eligible for induction into the Hall of Fame following the 2012 season. Griffey will be eligible after 2015. Would you care to wager a guess as to which player is enshrined first?

As spring training 2011 winds down and today’s major leaguers prepare for the regular season, the current role that each player holds tells the tale.

Griffey is a special instructor in Mariners spring training and a special assistant to the front office. Griffey is still embraced within the game of baseball.

Bonds, shunned by San Francisco Giants ownership, is sitting in a federal courtroom listening to testimony as a federal grand jury decides if he perjured himself in stating that he never knowingly used performance-enhancing drugs.

Details of Bonds’ steroid use will undoubtedly emerge and stick in the minds of the fans and baseball writers who will eventually decide Bonds’ fate in baseball immortality. In reality, though, no additional details are really necessary. Bonds was convicted in the court of public opinion long ago.

As a result, 762 is not the same as 755; 73 is not as important as 61. Hank Aaron is still the king, and Roger Maris is still the man to beat for the single-season mark.

The memory of Barry Bonds is not the all-around athlete that won MVP awards in the early 1990s for the Pirates or the player the Giants signed that helped them to the playoffs in 1997. That slender athlete that could hit for average and power, play Gold Glove defense and was a constant threat on the basepaths is long forgotten, replaced by the mutation that emerged as a result of his dealings with BALCO.

The memory of Ken Griffey, Jr., on the other hand, is still that fun-loving, backwards-hat-wearing ballplayer that made the game look easy. Yes, we will remember that Griffey was injured more often than not as his career wound down, but there is not a hint of any wrongdoing. Had Griffey had better luck and remained healthy, he could have stood ahead of Bonds in the record books. It will be Griffey that enjoys induction into Cooperstown in his first year of eligibility, while Bonds waits.

While 630 stands just below Willie Mays in fifth on the all-time home run list, at least to me, it stands above 762.

Brandon McClintock covers Major League Baseball for BleacherReport.com. You can follow Brandon on twitter @BMcClintock_BR.

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