They put Neil Diamond in the rock-n-roll hall of fame the other day. Neil Diamond. Think about it, let it sink in. Neil Diamond. Bucky fuckin' Dent, Neil fuckin' Diamond. He wrote "I'm a Believer" for the Monkees. Had a string of hits in the late sixties and early seventies that never veered far from vegas worthy hip shakers like "I thank the Lord for the Nighttime" "Cherry Cherry" and quasi maudlin fare such as "I am, I said" and thankfully, just in time for Elvis to get fat and Red Sox fans to get perverse in their traditions, "Sweet Caroline". How this qualifies him to be honored on equal terms with The Beatles, Stones, Dylan, Velvet Underground, etc., is beyond me.
But then, I dislike hall of fames in general, and none burns my ass more than baseball's. Please, pull out your baseball encyclopedia and look up the lifetime statistics of Bill Mazeroski, Nellie Fox, Ozzie Smith, Ryne Sandburg, Lou Whitaker and Alan Trammell. And then explain to me why the first four are enshrined as "immortals" and the last two, who were a double play combination longer than any other in m.l.b. history, a feat that should be honored in itself at Cooperstown, are not.
Because what it really comes down to is who is in charge of the choosing, or balloting, or voting, or whatever. History is written by the historians; ya heard that one, right? And that is so very true with baseball and its journalistic chroniclers. Nowhere else do you find so many bitter, petty writers plying their craft as in the line of baseball writer. Remember the legend that is Robert Duvall, as baseball writer Max Mercy in "The Natural"? What does he tell Roy Hobbs at one point--that ballplayers come and go but he remains. That he, the writer, can make or break a player. It's the most honest moment in the film.
Not that I don't love "The Natural". god knows I do. god KNOWS I do. But it's a document of fiction, fairy tale, and Hollywood magic. But that scene between Duvall and Robert Redford rings true through the mythology and contrivance that is the rest of the film. Baseball writers do think they are bigger than the game, the players, the history. And the result? Bert Blyleven, a Neil Diamond of a ballplayer, gets an honor that puts him alongside Cy Young, Christy Mathewson, Bob Feller, Bob Gibson, and Tom Seaver. Really? Wow.
This hall of fame thinking hits me as we hit the two week mark before my Tigers take on the Yankees opening day. Who's a future hall of famer playing today? Who's a shoo-in? Jeter, yeah. 'Specially after he gets 74 hits for 3,000. (thank god he's working on that strideless swing.) Ichiro, absolutely, three thousand hits or not. He's the purest of pure hitters. Pujols, sure. If he keeps it up for another five to ten years (though the statistical milestones that used to ensure induction are sort of falling away as fewer and fewer of the ever increasing number of major leaguers cannot and do not reach them; I suppose if Prince Albert retired now, they'd usher him in in five years anyway. And I wouldn't squawk.)
Who else? Manny Ramirez, maybe, if the writers choose to forget the steroids. Which, of course, covers A-Rod, and Big Papi, as well. I suppose Jim Thome gets in.
And then, I'm at a loss. Sure, my boy Tim Lincecum's had a hell of start to his career; Mauer and Morneau are swell hitters, as is Ryan Howard, and Miguel Cabrera might put up some impressive lifetime stats if he stops eating, drinking, and threatening Floridians with phantom firearms in his ditty bag. But, man, there just ain't that many great ballplayers anymore.
That's expansion; that's dilution; that's major league ball, 2011. Welcome to the machine. And you know what? At the end of the day, I don't really mind. Because the lack of true legends, the dearth of real superstars, the absence of marquee names year in, year out, putting up All-Star, hall of fame numbers, allows me to focus on the game itself; the beautiful thing that baseball is.
On KNBR Sports Radio, San Francisco, they like to play a drop of former Giants second baseman and perhaps, future hall of famer, Jeff Kent. It goes something like this: "....Enjoy the game!"
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