Cooper: Explaining My First-Ever Hall Of Fame Ballot

Image credit: Ichiro Suzuki (Photo by Ronnie Allen/Four Seam Images)

I probably think about Kenny Lofton’s Hall of Fame status too much. Or rather, his almost complete absence from that discussion.

Lofton made just one appearance on the Hall of Fame ballot. On a very crowded 2013 ballot that included 10 players who have made the Hall of Fame since then, he received just 18 votes. By appearing on only 3.2% of ballots cast, he fell below the five percent threshold to be retained on the 2014 Hall of Fame ballot. He was one and done.

If you want to argue that Tim Raines, a current Hall of Famer, has a better case than Lofton, I will listen. I may prefer Lofton’s case, but I can understand why Raines may be preferred to Lofton.

What I don’t understand is why one of the two got to grind his way to Hall of Fame recognition over 10 ballots—starting at less than 24% in his first year on the ballot—while the other’s case was dismissed in the blink of an eye.

This year, I get to do something about situations like that, as I will cast my first Hall of Fame ballot.

I’ve studied all the candidates, as one should, but before voting for the first time, I also decided it was important to try to establish some guidestones for how I plan to vote. It is possible that I’ll tweak these in upcoming years, but I plan to use these guidelines to drive my voting for years to come. 

If you think I’m misguided in any of these foundational principles, feel free to disagree. Let me know. Just trust that I’ve tried to spend time to come to some sort of consistency for how I will vote.

1. I will compare players to their contemporaries, as Hall of Famers are the best of their own generation.

Cy Young won 511 games. I find that to be a perfect summation of why Cy Young is a Hall of Famer, but I don’t think it has anything to do with why Felix Hernandez is or isn’t a Hall of Famer. They were both pitchers, but other than that, what their jobs entailed had very little relation to each other.

Hall of Famers are players who were among the best of their own generation and then had the longevity to sustain it. A player who was exceptional for a shorter period of time can be compared to someone less dominant, but with greater longevity.

I expect the best shortstops of the 21st century to hit for the kind of power that seemed impossible for shortstops of the 1950s because that’s now normal. And while I don’t expect the starting pitchers of the 21st century to carry the workloads of previous generations, I do expect strikeout rates that would have put the best of the past decades to shame. The game itself is always changing, but the simple question of “Was he considered the best in the game or the best at his position during his career?” remains a very useful one.

That doesn’t mean the best second baseman or first baseman or setup man is an automatic Hall of Famer. Talent runs in waves. I believe the third-best shortstop of the 2000s was better than the best of shortstop of the mid 1980s. The best starting pitchers of the 70s were better than the best of the 80s. Allowances have to be made for how one era is rich in center fielders and another is flush with catchers.

But expecting a 21st century pitcher to win 275 games isn’t realistic. If you believe that Felix Hernandez’s career wasn’t long enough to call him a Hall of Famer, that’s a fair argument. I view him as having a case because, for a six-year stretch, he was as good as pretty much any pitcher in the American League.

2. Relievers should be judged against their peers, not starting pitchers.

The case could be made that no relief pitcher should ever make the Hall of Fame (or no one other than Mariano Rivera, at least). The best starting pitchers throw more innings, make a bigger impact and are valued at a higher level than the best closers.

That’s true, but it’s only part of the story, even if it’s much easier for a reliever to have a great season than a starter and plenty of star relievers of a moment quickly faded back into obscurity.

But it’s also exceptionally hard to be an elite reliever for 15+ years. Very few pitchers have managed to handle the workload required to be a shutdown reliever year after year. The bar to be a Hall of Fame reliever should be high, but it shouldn’t be impossible.

3. There are no easy answers when it comes to PEDs.

I’m becoming a voter after the age of Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens and the biggest questions of whether PED users can be Hall of Famers. I am not going to say that someone who uses PEDs is immediately disqualified, especially as the game itself did little to discourage PED use in the 1990s.

If PED usage can be argued to have provided the longevity or performance boost that pushed a borderline player over the edge into Hall of Fame status, that’s a strong argument to vote no. But there are also players who were clearly Hall of Famers well before their PED usage is documented. I would have voted for Bonds or Clemens. 

I waver back and forth on this. I see a distinction between players who used PEDs in the era when it was ignored by all involved and those who did so and were caught in the era when it was penalized by one of the biggest punishments in the game (as agreed to be owners and players).

I understand if you disagree, and I may change my mind next year. But that’s where I fall on this tricky question for now. 

4. Postseason stats are important.

All too often, a player’s postseason stats seem to be shuffled into a separate and almost unconsidered category. David Ortiz hit .289/.404/.543 with 17 home runs, 88 hits and 59 walks in 369 postseason plate appearances. It seems illogical for me to not view that more than half of a regular season of production as a vital and important part of Ortiz’s Hall of Fame case.

For most players, what they do in the postseason is a small part of their career. Mike Trout shouldn’t be penalized years from now if he finishes with one career postseason hit. But for a player who was a vital part of teams winning in the postseason, that matters.

Andy Pettitte’s case without 44 postseason starts is a much more difficult one. But his solid performances in the postseason—and his 2001 ALCS MVP award—help push him over the top in my opinion.

It’s also an argument for Andruw Jones. Understandably, most players’ stats dip in the playoffs. Jones hit .273/.363/.433 in the postseason with 10 home runs in 76 games. He clubbed two home runs while hitting .400/.500/.750 as a 19-year-old in the 1996 World Series, after hitting .222/.417/.556 in the NLCS. The Braves may have lost to the Yankees in 1996, but Jones did all he could.

5. I reserve the right to vote strategically.

There may be situations in which I vote for a player whose case for the Hall of Fame is not as impressive as someone else I do not vote for. The example of Lofton stands out to me as a reason to do that intentionally.

If Lofton had stayed on the ballot, I believe he could have eventually become a borderline Hall of Fame candidate. He never got the chance.

I’ve read about and am still pondering the cases for Russell Martin and Brian McCann, both of which are made more interesting—and cloudier—by our ability to try to suss out their pitch-framing abilities from an era before that was easily tracked.

It doesn’t make sense to not vote for a Hall of Famer if that is potentially the difference between them getting in or falling below the 75% threshold. And it would be equally silly to leave Ichiro Suzuki off a ballot to try to make sure someone else with a borderline Hall of Fame case doesn’t slide off the ballot. First-ballot Hall of Famers are exempt from this, as the status as a unanimous or near-unanimous first-ballot entrant is something that is valued and special. Once past the first ballot, that distinction does not exist. If I am maxing out a ballot with 10 candidates, it makes sense to me to keep Felix Hernandez or Brian McCann’s case alive for another year, even if that means Dustin Pedroia’s vote percentage slips slightly from where it would be otherwise.

So with those explanations in mind, here is my first Hall of Fame ballot:

• Ichiro Suzuki
• Billy Wagner
• Andruw Jones
• Carlos Beltran
• Chase Utley
• CC Sabathia
• Felix Hernandez
• Brian McCann
• Andy Pettitte
• Jimmy Rollins