My grandmother turns 91 on Saturday and will probably drive herself to the little shindig we have planned for her. Oh yes, she’s set to turn 91 and still drives though we try our best to keep her off the roads at night. She also drives herself to a part-time job she keeps and has no trouble mixing it up with her great-grandchildren.
Word is she taught me all my best wrestling moves, which probably explains a lot. Nevertheless, she will surely be tumbling around with my kids to show them some of the moves she picked up from watching Gorgeous George or Killer Kowalski on the old Philco decades ago.
There really isn’t much she can’t do because of her age. There’s a steep hill in front of my house that she will trot up rather than take the steps. Why walk all the way around just to take the stairs when it’s easier to trudge up the hill?
Though she’s closing in on the big 9-1, she still goes to the gym to work out regularly, swims during the summer, travels when she can, keeps up with current events and tells silly old-timey jokes. She really hasn’t slowed down at all since I’ve known her.
Oh yes, she’s spry.
But in addition to the night-time driving bit, we’ve also asked to unhand the remote control and for her to turn in her voting privileges with the Valleybrook board of regents. Valleybrook is the development where she lives and the fact is she just doesn’t put as much thought into her voting anymore. But who can blame her? When you’re about to turn 91 who has time for nuance? Based on this we had her turn her vote over to a “younger” member of the board.
She agreed that it was a pretty good idea. There are other things she has to worry about, after all.
Needless to say if Corky Simpson were a member of the board at Valleybrook the only way to get his vote from him would be if you pried it from his cold, dead hand. Corky is going to cast his vote and make his voice heard, by golly, and damn you young whipper snappers for suggesting otherwise.
And while you’re at it, get off his lawn!
Ol’ Corky, a former scribe for the Tucson Sun in Arizona, made a bit of news in the so-called blog-o-sphere this week when he revealed his ballot for the annual Baseball Hall-of-Fame election from which the results will be announced on Monday. Writing for the newspaper at his retirement village in Southern Arizona, Corky informed his readers that he cast his votes for the following ballplayers:
• Bert Blyleven • Andre Dawson • Tommy John • Don Mattingly • Tim Raines • Jim Rice • Alan Trammell • Matt Williams
Parse those selections anyway you like – I won't stop you from proving or disproving the merits of Jim Rice or Bert Blyleven as Hall-of-Famers.In fact, go on and discuss it. I'll wait...
But here’s the thing about Corky’s logic… he omitted Mark McGwire because he questioned whether or not star-crossed slugger succeeded with the aid of illicit substances. However, Corky voted for Matt Williams, who also was named in the infamous Mitchell Report as a player who used performance-enhancing drugs.
That’s all well and good. Williams played for Arizona and probably gave Corky a few good quotes when he made the trip to the ballpark from Tucson, which, sadly, matters. In fact, it could be the reason why Jim Rice has struggled to get enough votes for induction though he was probably a better player than more than a handful of others already enshrined in Cooperstown.
Still, in explaining his vote for Williams, Corky wrote: Matt Williams, my first Hall of Fame vote for an Arizona Diamondback player. Matty played 17 seasons for the Giants, Indians and Diamondbacks. Nobody ever played the game with more intensity, nor with more reverence for the sport. He was the inspirational leader of the 2001 World Series champion D’backs.
Intensity? Reverence for the sport? Inspirational leader?
Matty?
Shoot, if that’s all it takes let’s get Rex Hudler in the Hall of Fame already. Like yesterday.
But Williams’ inclusion on a Hall-of-Fame ballot isn’t the issue. The problem is that Corky voted for eight players (all borderline at best) but did not select Rickey Henderson.
Rickey Henderson… you know, the greatest leadoff hitter of all-time. Apparently all those records don’t translate well down there in the sun. Runs and stolen bases… p’shaw. Give Corky a gritty, inspirational type like Matt Williams.
The only defense for Corky might be that the omission of Rickey Henderson was an oversight. Or maybe he actually voted for Henderson, but forgot about it when he sat down at his Underwood to type out his column for Izzy Mandelbaum and the gang at the retirement village. Those deadlines are pretty tight down there as it is. After all, there was an early-bird special to get to, and quick.
But the bigger issue is not only why is Corky voting at all, but also why does the Hall-of-Fame continue to allow the Baseball Writers Association of America to decide which players belong. Enough of the BBWAA already… get rid of it and move on.
Here’s how it works: all one has to do is be a member of the BBWAA for 10 straight years and, voila, here’s a Hall-of-Fame vote. Worse, until last year only writers for newspapers were allowed in the BBWAA. That’s when they allowed some folks from ESPN.com and Yahoo.com in because apparently newspapers still aren’t sure about this whole Internet thing.
It might be just a passing fad.
So once a guy like Corky Simpson gets a vote, it never goes away. Ever. As long as a guy is breathing and he has that vote, dadgummit, he’s going to cast it.
It’s a helluva club, to be honest. It’s kind of like a college fraternity only with more ass paddling, more binge drinking, more free schwag that can be re-sold on eBay and more rules. Definitely more rules and definitely less dating than at the old frat house.
The rules thing is tricky because the ones everyone follows aren’t written down. It’s like a secret society that way, kind of like the Stonecutters or Skull & Bones. Or, maybe like the Marines at Guantanamo under the leadership of Col. Nathan Jessup in “A Few Good Men” with the “code reds.”
The not-so secret unwritten rule of the BBWAA? No one gets a unanimous vote into the Hall of Fame. Not Babe Ruth, not Ty Cobb, not Connie Mack, not Cal Ripken, not Hank Aaron, not Willie Mays, not Ted Williams, not Joe DiMaggio, not Mike Schmidt, not Nolan Ryan and definitely not Rickey Henderson.
No one. Ever.
No one is sure if it was under this thinking that Corky skipped past Rickey’s name on the ballot, but if it was no one should be surprised. Though Henderson likely will be voted in easily with a margin considerably higher than the 75 percent needed, it’s baffling that some members of the BBWAA hold tight to these anachronistic traditions. Then again, baseball is full of stupid traditions going back to the very beginning of the game. Two of the dumbest are the traditions in which only white men could play in the Major Leagues and giving the Hall of Fame vote to the BBWAA.
Back to the unanimous vote thing…
Venerable ballscribe Bill Conlin of the Daily News admitted in a recent column that he didn’t vote for Nolan Ryan for the Hall of Fame in 1999 because, well, just because. Conlin admitted that he was making a “political statement” which is another way to say that he had an agenda. That stuff is all well and good if Conlin were voting for something political like president or city council, but the Hall of Fame?
This has all been a long-winded way to say that it’s time for the Hall of Fame to cut its ties with the BBWAA. Form a committee of astute baseball thinkers and put them in a ivory tower and let them figure it out. Get Bob Costas, Keith Olberman, Ken Burns, Bill James and a commentator for NPR and let them wax on like Yeats or Pound about the nuance of Alan Trammell.
Oh yes, Alan Trammell… that wispy and wiry shortstop for the Detroit Tigers with a staccato-like swing from an elegant stance with a light-footed way of fielding his position that made it look as if ol’ No. 3 were walking on a cloud.
Yeah.
Make it so the new voters come with openness, no agendas and no drama. Better yet, make it so that if submits a stupid ballot, they have to turn in their card.
No more ass paddling for that guy.