A Hall of an Idea

Do you think if Bosom Buddies was still on television or about to come on as a new  show, it would be called that? I can’t even say the word ***** on the internet, and this is the internet, where I can simultaneously look at pornography, order a book, play poker and watch ****. So for whatever reasons, I think Bosom Buddies wouldn’t float. It would have to be renamed so that it couldn’t be sued for defamation from some group who feels the title undermines the cerebral body images of young people. Even if the show is about two guys cross-dressing to meet chicks.

          So no Bosom Buddies. That’s a shame. It had Tom Hanks and that other guy. I don’t know his name. You could tell me it’s wilson and I’d believe you. Sometimes I wonder if that is how Scottie Pippen is going to be remembered. Or Tom Glavine. Now that would really be sad.

          When people ask me about the Hall of Fame, I usually have an opinion. All baseball fans do. Name the player, and there is a debate to be had. Charlie Hustle. Shoeless Joe. The Goose. The Hawk. And those are just the guys who are out. Of course there’s Don Sutton, Pee Wee Reece and Paul Molitor if you are not a fan of the DH. But there is always debate and unrest and feelings that the institution is always lacking or missing. I don’t feel like those feelings exist about the football or basketball shrines (No one watches hockey).

It’s something utterly unique about the nation's pastime, something that serves as yet another extension of the essence of democracy. Debate and Compromise. Except there is little to the debate for baseball fans, the reason a Hall of Fame exists in any sport. They don’t get to vote. They have no say in a process so endearing to most that is such a heated and personal topic. Instead they have to rely on baseball writers and the veteran’s committee. And they’re not perfect by any means: see Buck O’Neill.

I hate when I hear sportswriters defend their decision not to elect a certain player because it is the Hall of Fame, not the Hall of Very Good. Most sportswriters, and I apologize to my large amount of sportswriter friends, would have a hard time making the distinction between the two because they have no true way to measure the innate physical and mental abilities that these athletes posses.

Stats can lie. There are plenty of examples. My friend likes to spout off ones about Ronald McDonald’s (think about a really big guy with red hair who has to apply something to make himself capable of performing his job, yet would deny that it is the applicable substance that makes him who he is) career extra-base hits aside from home runs, and how they are the lowest among all players who hit at least 500 Home runs. And you can find them for pitchers as well. Yet, fans wait helplessly each year as another class comes to ballot having to hope, pray, do whatever is within their power to wait for the results. With no say. For the building and group they are going to celebrate and tell their children and grandchildren about.

Baseball is going well, but not great. Steroids and performance enhancing substances cloud its every moment. Barry Bonds just signed a contract in which the San Francisco Giants made him understand that his personal trainers are not welcome in the clubhouse. Fans can already vote for the All-Star Game, an event dedicated solely for them, no matter how many of their stars decide to skip the event (See: The Pro Bowl). So why not the Hall of Fame? Why not allow the fans to have a partial say into who gets into their building. It’s as much for them as it is the players. I don’t want Tom Glavine being thought of as that “other guy” because he played with Greg Maddux and doesn’t get in due to some technicality in his stats or personality that makes baseball writers the curmudgeons that most of them are.

But I doubt anything will change. The writers have the power and would be fools to give any of it up. Look at how much it is screwing up Republicans. So I, and the billions of baseball fans in the world, will have to wait and see whether Ichiro gets his proper recognition even though he played some of his career in another league, on another continent. And that just *****.

Final thought: I’m not sure what to think about this outpouring of emotion for Barbaro. It is a horse. When did everyone turn into Tony Soprano? It won one race. Had it kept racing, it probably would have raced three more time on television before being put out to stud. And in 12 months or minutes, whichever came first, people would have forgotten about the thing because it is a horse. Don’t misunderstand me as an animal hater; think of me as someone who doesn’t think the courageous fight a horse puts up is somehow more noble than the fight millions of people around the world endure from the thousands of diseases and disabilities that plague our species.