Hall of the Kinda Okay

 

The Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York was once the pinnacle of athletic achievement. It was more than a museum. It was a destination for fans young and old to embrace the tradition and learn about the game’s greatest players. This was where Babe Ruth, Willie Mays, and Sandy Koufax stood for their bronze portrait, making them immortal. 

 

But to fill out the museum, you need to lower the standards. This isn’t any different than what’s happened in most formerly great institutions. 

 

Today, it’s a little different. Let’s just agree that the standards have, for whatever reason, shifted a bit.

 

Numbers alone can’t tell the story of a great ballplayer. Why? Because numbers are just numbers. For one thing, they’re not letters. You can’t make words, though you could, with a little prodding, make music. 

 

Hall of fame should be more equitable. It’s not fair to leave out so many people who devoted their live to playing a child’s game. Why does it have to be so rarefied, limiting members to the greatest players of all time? Plenty of mediocre ballplayers are quite famous. It’s fame, not greatness, after all. And once they’re inducted, their fame will only rise. 

This isn't college with harsh admissions standards. It's baseball. Can you play catch? Can you hold a bat? Though college isn't exactly college anymore either.