Hall of Fame's future dilemma—who belongs and who doesn't: the standards for ranking players among the game's elite have always come into question, but in coming years they will be under more scrutiny

Baseball Digest, June, 2008 by George Vass

IT'S GENERALLY UNDERSTOOD AND confirmed by the unexpected and often astonishing happenings of every season that there are few, if any, sure bets involving baseball, that most capricious of sports.

All the same, even the most timorous gambler might unhesitatingly wager the house and all its contents on the virtual certainty that the Hall of Fame is headed for a crisis that could shake it to its venerated and venerable foundations.

What has brought about this critical situation is the flood of revelations about the widespread use of performance enhancing drugs by players, which peaked with the release of the Mitchell Report last December and the subsequent U.S. House committee investigations and hearing.

The 409-page Mitchell report listed 83 players--including seven-time Cy Young Award winner Roger Clemens--accused of using steroids or human growth hormone over the past 10 years. Commissioner Bud Selig reacted by saying he would study the report and then do whatever was necessary to address the unsavory situation.

"This report is a call to action," declared Selig. "And I will act."

It's conceivable that the Mitchell report and other revelations about widespread use of performance enhancing drugs by players, whether illegal or at least unethical, are also calls to action for the usually placid and passive Hall of Fame. Does the Hall need to react to what is undoubtedly a major problem for baseball in general?

It has become painfully evident with each successive distressing disclosure about the scandalous "steroids era" that the Cooperstown shrine is being increasingly burdened by a dilemma that would tax the ingenuity of a King Solomon to resolve.

How is the game's Valhalla going to reconcile its exacting eligibility standards for probity with the sordid and in several cases flagrantly illegal actions of some of the most prominent players of the past 15 or 20 seasons?

Virtually every year during the next decade or two one or more "tainted" stars who have set records, won major awards, or achieved glittering career-long success, will become eligible for Hall of Fame consideration by the electorate, members of the Baseball Writers' Association of America.

The BBWAA's rules for election to the Hall from among candidates who have been retired as players for at least five years include the following one, perhaps more honored in the breach than in the observance:

"Voting shall be based on a player's record, playing ability, integrity, sportsmanship, character, and contributions to the team(s) on which the player played."

Take special heed of the words "integrity" and "character." Never mind "sportsmanship," long ago abandoned in the competitive frenzy of modern sports.

Integrity and character are at the heart of the predicament the Hall must increasingly contend with for a long time before the stench of a "steroids era" that includes the use of other performance enhancing drugs is eventually dissipated by the passing years.

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The Hall's problem, in somewhat simple terms, is a glaring incompatibility between what many consider the "bogus" records of "cheaters" and those players' worthiness for the honor of inclusion in the Hall of Fame.

Rather confusingly, former relief ace Goose Gossage, the newest Hall member after having been the sole choice last January, came down firmly on both sides of the enigma. He said all records attained by steroid users should be stricken from the books, but that those same players belong in the Hall if their careers are worthy.

He also admitted, somewhat gratuitously if honestly, he might have used steroids if they had been available in his era in order to enhance his performance or prolong his career.

"But had I done it, I would have paid the consequences," he added, "and the consequences are that whether they belong in the Hall of Fame or not, the records can't stand."

It may seem a farfetched notion, but a player and his records are virtually inseparable, almost one and the same thing. Such a concept strikes to the heart of the Hall's looming difficulties.

Who can deny that what most people remember and treasure about Joe DiMaggio is his 56-game hitting streak in 1941? Or that Ted Williams is most often admired for his .406 batting average the same season.

Similarly, Dizzy Dean's 30 wins in 1934 keep his memory vivid, and Ty Cobb's record .366 career batting average is the major achievement fans recall about him. Pete Rose's celebrity is to a large extent tied to his feat of surpassing Cobb's previous record total of 4,191 base hits (now revised to 4,189), and closing his own career with 4,256.

A great deal of hoopla was expended last season when Barry Bonds surpassed Hank Aaron's total of 755 home runs, a record which had stood for 33 years. It was dimly reminiscent of the excitement stirred in 1972 when Aaron surged past Babe Ruth's mark of 714 that had seemed impregnable for almost four decades.

The ball Bonds hit for No. 756 was bought at auction for $752,467.20 by fashion designer Marc Ecko, who polled fans whether he should mark it with an asterisk. The star symbol was to suggest Bonds' achievement was suspect. Bonds has been linked to compelling evidence he used performance enhancing drugs on his way to topping Aaron as well as capturing the season record of 73 home runs in 2001.