Growing up

Despite my pleas that Amalie remain little, she always (rightfully) refuses and states that no, she will get bigger. And we agree that this is the way of things. I so love this kid.

This was going to be a short post about how, days ago, she got her first loose tooth, but that's already old news. Let's skip the standard thousand words and just go to the picture:

The first to go.

How ever did five and (almost) a half years go so quickly?

Babies

In 2004, a mating pair of birds built a nest inside our front door foyer, well out of reach of the cats and nicely insulated from harsh weather. This was rather clever of them, as we had some lashing storms that year, yet they stayed nicely dry and out of the winds.

Our front doorway where the birds roost.

I don't know what species the birds are, if it's the same pair each year, or maybe offspring (how long do birds live?), or if it's even the same species of bird, but they've been back every year since. In 2006 they hatched two clutches of eggs.

They finally came back again this year, late April, and the baby birds hatched a couple of weeks ago. Today they started flying; by the middle of next week I expect them to be gone, and the mating pair will probably start on a second batch. They're kind of entertaining -- they twitter-tweet at the cats, sometimes even dive-bomb at them, despite that the cats have been here all along and have no chance at getting at the nest. I suppose this is typical bird-parent defensive posturing, but if it is the same original pair, don't they ever get acclimated? The cats are only a threat if the birds are dense enough to get near them. (Make no mistake, both cats can and have nailed other birds on occasion, but not the nesting birds.)

It's been fun watching the babies fly -- only two so far, the other two no doubt in a day or so -- and I like that they come back every year.

The baby birds take a break from flying practice
(two obvious, one hunched down at right).

It's the oil of bergamot that makes it great

A few years ago -- 2004, 2005, I don't recall -- my folks gave me a 200-count canister of Earl Grey teabags for Christmas, Twinings brand. Wonderful stuff; I drink coffee a few times a week, usually because Val is having a cuppa, but I generally prefer tea, and in the world of tea Earl Grey is my favorite. And, yes, central Texas winters are cold enough to enjoy a good, hot cup more than once a day. When the weather turns warm, I don't drink it nearly so often. So that canister has lasted me a good, long time.

I woke with a rough throat this morning, and decided that a cup of hot tea would be just the thing. And realized that, at last, I was down to my last bag of Earl Grey from that huge canister. I wasn't particularly wistful or longing about it, so I set up the kettle and my mug and waited for the whistle.

I set myself up with my tea, and the kids awoke, and I managed to drink about half of it while getting everything ready to take them to school. Got back, noticed the mug, and took it to the kitchen and dumped it.

Other than books, gifts rarely last so long. I can't say I miss my huge canister of tea -- the can itself was recycled months ago as the supply dwindled -- but it was good gift, and I enjoyed it plenty. Thanks, Mom & Dad.

Ultor Returneth

You've probably heard the old sawhorse that lightning never strikes the same place twice.

I tell you true: bullshit.

Just after 2:00 am Central on 16-May, our house was either struck by lightning, or the strike was so close that the internal wiring harness took a huge surge. I was up reading, and heard the storm growing. Checked the kids, both sleeping soundly, and decided to go out on our back deck, which is covered, to watch a bit. I had opened the back door, my left hand still on the knob, and was about to open the storm door when the world flashed white, followed (mere microseconds later) by a massively loud, crackling SNAP. It was all over in less than a second; I blinked my eyes to recover my sight. My left hand felt lightly itchy, though I ignored it. I heard an ululating beep, figured it must be the hard-wired smoke detectors, but it stopped before I could be certain. (I didn't imagine it because Val heard it too, the strike and beep had awakened her, which is rare.) The kids kept on sleeping, thankfully. I got the big flashlight in case we lost power -- and about ten minutes later, we did, for a very short time (a minute or two). The rain came down in bucketsful, about two inches deep in the front yard depression outside the front door.

I went to turn on the big TV to see the local weather... and got nothing but a hysteresis blur. I knew what that meant -- we'd taken the surge and were sure to have several electronics pieces ruined.

The bit about striking twice? We had the same thing happen (while we were not at home) in 2001. A lightning strike or surge, home electronics burned out all over the house. This time wasn't as bad, but we still took plenty of damage. I haven't inventoried everything yet, but both televisions are toast, both DVD players, the good stereo receiver, the cable modem (already replaced, which is how I'm posting this), and it looks like the wireless modem is dead as well. Later today I'll finish assessing the desktop computer array and the home entertainment speakers. Worst, though, is that the central air conditioning was knocked out -- just like last time, a control board got baked. Repair on that won't be complete until Thursday morning, but luckily it's been a very nice night so we have the windows open, and it's not stuffy or miserable. And, good news, our new Yamaha digital piano came through intact. (And yes, most items were plugged in through surge-protective power strips. I suspect the surge came through the cable television lines.)

Finally among the damage, the bathroom mirror. This is where I first noticed evidence of the 2001 strike -- the grounding in the back bathroom is incomplete, and when the first strike occurred it partly grounded itself out of studs and into the mirror. I went in to brush my teeth and noticed a coppery blot about the size of a golf ball just above the sink, and also found some of the reflective backing melted behind the faceplate of the electrical outlet. This time, the blot grew to the size of a grapefruit, and the mirror fractured around the outlet. So it'll get replaced for certain, and we'll probably have the wiring checked and repaired while we're at it.

The mirror crack'd.

The darker, central blot is from 2001, the expanded corona from 2007.

I showed the mirror to the kids when they awoke, pointing out that thunder is scary, but it's the lightning that can cause the damage. Carson (now 2 1/4) interpreted my description as though the mirror had been smashed by Lightning McQueen.

This is a major pain in the ass, though insurance will cover some of it. Partly, though, I'm looking forward to replacing some old stuff and being forced into re-doing the office desktop setup, plus having the chance to vacuum up lots of dusty nooks otherwise inaccessible. And we'll look into getting lightning rods installed.

And I'm certain that my hand, by being on the metal doorknob when the bolt hit wherever, got a kiss of electrons, probably coupled in by the immediate e-field, so I'll never fear mere static again. I've held the lightning.

Two strikes in six years -- I figure we must now be waaaaay out into the far end of the probability curve, and a third strike would be inconceivable.

But if we do get hit again -- screw it, we're moving.

Catching Up

Foo. I just went the whole of April with only one post. Shame on me.

So there'll be much catching-up in the next few days. The Clemens signing. Strawberry picking (heading out in a few minutes). Our new piano. A fun baseball book-signing. Amalie's tee-ball, which I'm helping coach. New lawn mower to go with Val's new and improved lawn.

But I'll start with my finger. I'd been trimming the old nail, front and back (yes, it feels weird), as it grew along. Finally, in late April, it was down to a little arc, and peeling away from the underflesh on all sides; the pink underneath was the size of a crumb. I couldn't wait for the darn thing to finally fall off -- whenever it snagged (and despite being very careful, sometimes it would) it hurt, more a twinge than real pain, but nothing appealing.

Yesterday, Sunday, I took a nap while Carson was enjoying an extra-long one (he was sick on Saturday evening so needed the extra rest). Woke up, sat down to watch a bit of baseball, pulled Amie into my lap -- and noticed my fingernail bit was, at last, gone. Gone! YES!

I still have a ridge of the hardened underflesh that needs to finish outgrowing before my baby nail will push forth and be ready for its first trimming. I've never given much thought to nail growth rate -- I know my toenails grow slower than my fingernails, but have never timed either -- but this time I couldn't ignore it. Granted my right index finger had been messed up with the infection, but if the growth rate stayed normal, and it appeared to be steady relative to my other carpal digits, then my fingernails completely regrow in about 3-4 months.

I still don't yet have the a functional fingernail but at least I can stop worrying about getting it snagged.

Is Jackie Worthy?

With the impending 60th anniversary (Sunday, April 15) of Jackie Robinson's major league debut with the Brooklyn Dodgers, and MLB's concurrent celebration thereof, the question came up: would Jackie Robinson be in the Hall Of Fame if he were not the first black ballplayer?

Overlooking the historical inaccuracy in the question, the quick answer is Yes, absolutely. But let us take a long walk to get there, including some of the sidebar issues that arise.

Here's a look at Jackie, in the format I used for the Veterans Committee 2007 Hall ballot candidates a few weeks ago:

Playing career: 10 seasons; Brooklyn Dodgers (1947-56), plus one season with the Kansas City Monarchs of the Negro Leagues. Robinson spent three years, immediately preceding his professional baseball career, in military service during WWII; this is something that many players did, lose time to the war effort, but it surely took at least a few seasons off his career. No baseball credit earned for this, but he deserves a smart salute for his service.

Standout season(s): 1949 (.342/.432/.528, 16 HR, 12 triples, 124 RBI, 37 SB, 152 adjOPS).

Career stat highlight: .409 OBP (39th all-time, around 30th when he retired).

Major honors and statistical crowns: 1949 NL MVP, 1947 Major League ROY (inaugural award), six All-Star selections, batting average once, OBP once, stolen bases twice. Member of the 1955 World Series champion Dodgers and five other NL champion teams (1947, '49, '52-53, '56). Consistently in the Top Five or Top Ten of many of the good offensive categories. Jersey #42 retired by the Dodgers in 1972 and by all of Major League Baseball in 1997 (50th anniversary of his debut; other than special events like the upcoming 60th anniversary, the last remaining active player grandfathered to wear #42 is Mariano Rivera). The Rookie Of The Year Award is now named in his honor. There's a Jackie Robinson Parkway in Brooklyn. The Mets' new park, scheduled to open in 2009, will include a Jackie Robinson Rotunda at the main entrance. Generally recognized as the first black to play in the major leagues; that's not quite accurate -- the Walker brothers, Moses and Welday, predated him by decades -- but Jackie is the one who had the lasting, profound, and positive effect of destroying the color barrier. I realize that, eventually, it looks like MLB is laying it on with a trowel, so thick are the tributes and commemorations of Jackie Robinson, his career, and his impact, but he really does merit all of it.

Outside of baseball, Robinson was awarded (posthumously, unfortunately, but wherever he is now he probably appreciated them anyway) the Presidential Medal Of Freedom in 1984 and the Congressional Gold Medal in 2003.

Primary position: second base.

BBWAA Hall voting: won election to the Hall on his first ballot in 1962, with 77.50%.

Robinson was also the pre-eminent second baseman of his era. Here's the primary 2Bmen for all 16 major league teams in 1949, Jackie's MVP year (yeah, that makes it a bit easier on him, but I have a point to make after the data).

NL (MVP: Robinson):
Dodgers - Jackie Robinson: .342/.432/.528, 152 adjOPS, 133 runs created.
Braves - Eddie Stanky: .285/.417/.358, 114 adjOPS, 75 RC.
Cardinals - Red Schonedienst: .297/.351/.356, 86 adjOPS, 80 RC.
Cubs - Emil Verban: .289/.309/.327, 73 adjOPS, 34 RC.
Giants - Hank Thompson: .280/.377/.444, 119 adjOPS, 46 RC.
Phillies - Eddie Miller: .207/.294/.320, 67 adjOPS, 24 RC.
Pirates - Monty Basgall: .218/.291/.273, 50 adjOPS, 24 RC.
Reds - Jimmy Bloodworth: .261/.304/.385, 83 adjOPS, 53 RC.

AL (MVP: Ted Williams):
Athletics - Pete Suder: .267/.306/.416, 93 adjOPS, 56 RC.
Browns - Jerry Priddy: .290/.382/.414, 107 adjOPS, 86 RC.
Indians - Joe Gordon: .251/.355/.407, 103 adjOPS, 77 RC.
Red Sox - Bobby Doerr: .309/.393/.497, 128 adjOPS, 106 RC.
Senators - Al Kozar: .269/.321/.357, 81 adjOPS, 40 RC.
Tigers - Neil Berry: .237/.299/.271, 51 adjOPS, 26 RC.
White Sox - Cass Michaels: .308/.417/.421, 125 adjOPS, 98 RC.
Yankees - Jerry Coleman: .275/.367/.358, 92 adjOPS, 58 RC.

Here's the point: it's not even close. Among his second basemen peers (in this one season), only Doerr (also in the Hall) and Michaels are within shouting distance (and they were both in the other league). Robinson was easily the best second baseman in MLB, and he sustained that distinction for several more seasons. And it wasn't just his brilliant hitting; he was pretty much the best with the glove as well, leading the NL in double plays and fielding percentage several times. Jackie retired before the Gold Glove awards were established, but had there been such an award in his time he'd probably have picked up a couple for the home trophy case.

Jackie really was that good a player. Add in his immense social value, and it's no contest; he is eminently Hall worthy.

And now, some of the sidebars...

What about Jackie's years in the Negro Leagues?

Robinson only played one season in the Negro Leagues, with the 1945 Kansas City Monarchs. You can check here to see his recorded stats for that year. He was, no surprise really, devastatingly good; in addition to that .387 AVG, his SLG was .613, and we cannot know (from this limited data) what his exact OBP was but it was likely well above .400 for the season. Jackie only played in 47 games -- whether that was a function of the official league schedule or him not joining the team until later in the summer isn't clear -- and there's no precedent for simply adding his 1945 stats to his later MLB stats. That's not important anyway; it's but one season, it was (typically) excellent, and it certainly doesn't weaken his playing legacy.

Jackie played 1945 with the Monarchs and debuted with the Dodgers in 1947 -- what about his 1946 season?

Dodgers GM Branch Rickey broke in Robinson with his top minor league affiliate, the Montreal Royals of the International League, in 1946, partly on the basis that Canada wouldn't be so racially harsh on the man. Jackie won the league batting title with a .349 AVG (.462 SLG, approximately .461 OBP -- had 92 walks), led in runs scored with 113, and was second in stolen bases with 40. The Royals stormed the league, finishing with a 100-54 record for first place by +18.5 games, knocked off Newark (four games to two) in the first round of the playoffs, pushed aside Syracuse (4-1) for the league title, and then defeated the Louisville Colonels of the American Association, 4-2, for the Junior World Series championship. Jackie doesn't get all the credit for this spectacular season (scroll down for Royals player stats), but he was a huge (and league leading; always good) contributor. As history records, he didn't come back in 1947.

All of which is just that much more evidence that Jackie Robinson could play and do so exceptionally well. Jackie was 27 in 1946, and studies have shown this to be the most typical peak playing age.

In evaluating Robinson for the Hall, should his Negro League stats count? What about modern-day Japanese expatriate players? Is their situation comparable?

The Hall's mission statement (which is, I suppose, as close as we can get to an actual charter, at least on line), declares that it "...(honors) those who have made outstanding contributions to our National Pastime" -- and Robinson certainly did that, with a magnitude of impact equalled by few others -- and "(h)onoring, by enshrinement, those individuals who had exceptional careers, and recognizing others for their significant achievements" -- and no matter how we define "exceptional", Robinson nails this slightly different version as well.

Under the Rules For Election, one of the requirements for eligibility is "(p)layer must have played in each of ten (10) Major League championship seasons..." -- there's a couple of conditions this and the other requirements define, but one thing we can boil out is that a candidate must have played in a major league as considered by the Hall. In 2007, this includes only the two constituent leagues within the organization known as Major League Baseball; other, long-defunct leagues have also been recognized as holding "major league" status, such as the Federal League and several different leagues in the 19th century. Don't ask me how such distinctions are made; it's not really clear. But, what is clear is that the various leagues which operated under the general Negro Leagues banner (there were specific league names; Robinson's 1945 Monarchs were in the Negro American League), and the various leagues in Japan, have not been granted that recognition. The Hall, to its credit, has made earnest and welcome outreach efforts to recognize, elect, and induct the best players from the Negro Leagues, for the past several decades; but candidates considered specifically for their careers in the Negro Leagues (unlike short-timers like Robinson or Hank Aaron) have never appeared on the annual Baseball Writers of America Association ballot. The Hall's primary electoral college (the BBWAA) considers players from major leagues, and the various Negro Leagues have not been recognized as such, at least for the Hall's purposes. I do think this is a good thing for the purpose it serves, that primary Negro League players have not been conflated with MLB players on the ballot, as comparison and contrast between the two player pools would have been, not exactly difficult (challenging, certainly, but possible), but somewhat awkward. Primary Negro League players have been considered under separate committee formats, and while it's not the sort of system that pleases everyone, it has worked pretty well and honored some more than deserving individuals.

So, no, Robinson's stats from his one season with the Monarchs really shouldn't "count", and in his particular case it's such a small amount of data that it doesn't really change his candidacy (though it was a great year, and so if considered, would simply make him look better), but to be honest, I have no idea if the BBWAA electors either can, or want to, ignore such "non major league" data when it is available. The Negro Leagues folded in the early 1960s (and, in a way, Jackie helped bring about this demise), so there's not really any more candidates that the BBWAA could consider who have Negro League stats buried within the far reaches of their careers (Aaron was the last former Negro League player to retire from MLB). But what about future candidates from Japan or other parts of Asia/Pacifica where organized baseball is played? Park arrived in 1994, Nomo in 1995, and Suzuki became the first significant non-pitcher import in 2001; and some of these men, the Asian Invasion, bring along sterling professional careers in their homelands before hooking up with MLB teams. If and when any of them reach the Hall ballot, what weight will their pre-MLB careers carry? Strictly speaking, it should be no weight at all, but right now there's no telling what the voters might do, or if the Hall might expand its mission to encourage such consideration of international playing careers. (Note, I don't think Park or Nomo is Hall-worthy, even factoring in some pioneering value; I mention them as being the first of the invasion, and sufficiently recent that no one has yet arrived on the Hall's ballot screening committee's agenda. It'll be a few years still before any Asian import player stands as a viable future candidate. Ichiro certainly looks to be on the right path though, and it really wouldn't shock me if he plays long enough within MLB to seal the deal, maybe reach 3000 hits, his previous 1278 hits in Japan notwithstanding. His years with Orix simply won't matter. It's likely that some other player will have to be the acid test for offshore playing time factoring in, officially or not.)

(Tangential topic: the official name of the Hall is The National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum. It's purview is baseball as played within the United States, hence "National". Yes, there is a team in Toronto and there was one in Montreal, but MLB and its franchises operate under governance of New York State law for league-wide matters. So Blue Jays players or former Expos players will have full consideration by the Hall in each man's due time. Even Vladimir Guerrero, the man with the Russian given name, the Latino surname, who played the American game in the French part of Canada, can earn a Hall plaque. And probably will, too.)

If Jackie is Hall-class, isn't Don Mattingly also?

In general I really despise the "if Player A, then Player B" type of argument for supporting Player B for the Hall (and when Player B is Pete Rose, it should be a hanging offense). It's a cheap method and tends to be applied to players whom are very much not similar, except that a few of their career totals match up. So let's destroy the notion that Mattingly can get in because Robinson did.

First, position matters. Robinson actually made his famous debut at first base, but played the bulk of his career at second, and played more at third than he did at first. The Hall recognizes him as a second baseman. Good-hitting 2Bmen are harder to find than good-hitting 1Bmen, so the general level of excellence with the bat is higher at first than at second when the Hall takes a look. Robinson was one of the best-hitting second basemen in major league history; among first basemen, Mattingly makes a rather faint showing. So, Robinson worthy, Mattingly not.

Second, era matters. Robinson's time, the 1950s, was a time of lesser offense (though not nearly as much as the 1960s were). Mattingly's 1980s were a low point between the 1970s and the 1990s, but there were a few more runs scored (comparing their MVP seasons: 1949 NL, 4.54 runs/game; 1985 AL, 4.56 runs/game. It's close enough to call it a wash for our purposes). Don had a few really great peak seasons, but then the back injury derailed him and, when the powerball 90s came along, he was league average and unimpressive. Jackie made his mark (six great seasons, offensively, out of ten). Mattingly had four great seasons and two very good ones (out of 14, though one was a cuppa coffee), but there's an obvious cliff in the middle of his career where he got injured and fell off. Robinson sustained his peak better.

Best full seasons by adjusted OPS:
Robinson: 154, 152, 150, 140, 139, 136.
Mattingly: 161, 156, 156, 146, 133, 128.

Best Runs Created per 27 outs:
Robinson: 8.51, 8.37, 7.90, 7.79, 7.33, 7.14.
Mattingly: 8.96, 8.01, 7.96, 7.87, 6.21, 6.10.

Getting those numbers from a second baseman is harder than getting them from a first baseman.

On a career basis (and not adjusting for era or anything else), Robinson edges Mattingly in slugging, .474 to .471, and utterly tramples him in on-base percentage, .409 to .358. That career OBP alone indicates that Robinson is a seriously good player -- currently it ranks 39th in history, and was around 30th when Jackie retired.

Would Jackie be in the Hall if he were a white man?

I think so, though it probably would have taken a few more ballots -- he was a genuinely great player, though his career was short.

It counts for nothing, but thinking "what if" -- as in, what if Jackie hadn't had to encounter the color barrier? -- would have given him only two more seasons, at most, in the major leagues. Prior to 1945, he was in the military, and I refuse to consider taking that away from him and postulating more seasons on the field. Two more seasons would have looked good, to be sure, but Robinson didn't and doesn't need them. Great player; Hall worthy. Then add in the impact he made on baseball (all for the better) and society in general, and his candidacy is overwhelming.

But, as a Hall honoree, he doesn't need that enormous bonus value, and it's worth noting that his Hall plaque doesn't mention it. And really, it doesn't have to. He earned that plaque, fairly, on the field. That MLB continues to honor him and celebrate his lasting impact on the game underscores his greater influence beyond his hitting and fielding. The Hall plaque honors his playing greatness. The continuing fanning of the Robinson flame, while somewhat smacking of marketing, is worthwhile, because his story is important enough to tell and re-tell, and keep in living memory.

Bulky Trash Time

Twice a year, Austin has bulky trash collection -- as far as I know it is ongoing continuously, but it takes a while to cover the entire city, so our neighborhood comes up in the rotation about every six months. We get a postcard in the mail announcing our week; they don't publish neighborhoods and dates on the official website, and when I once asked about this, was told it was to discourage scavengers. This was really silly, as (a) the scavengers find out anyway and (b) since they take a lot of stuff, they ultimately make the official collection an easier task on city resources. That's a bureaucracy for you, I guess.

Our lawnmower had pretty much given up the ghost at the end of the 2006 mowing season, and I'd reached the limits of what maintenance I could perform that would help. So, I bought a new one at Sears (another gas-powered, and likely my last one; the next will be electric), picked it up this week, and brought it home. Assembly was trivial -- unfold and lock the handle and it's ready to, well, have the battery charged, but by tomorrow I'll probably be cutting the grass. The garage is (like usual) a bit too full of stuff, so Val and I decided that the perfect way to make room was to remove the old mower and set it atop the driveway in anticipation of next week's bulky trash pickup.

Val parked it streetside (handle pointing out, making the "take me" aspect obvious) around, oh, 3:30 this afternoon. She took Amie to dance and soccer practice a little before 4:30, and the mower was still there. Carson awoke around 5:45, and I took him to over to the park (he loves kicking around the soccer ball; too bad there's no 2-year-old league) at maybe 6:00. And the mower was gone. I hadn't even drained the gas (though it was likely close to empty anyway).

And this is how bulky trash always goes: the scavengers take a lot of the stuff, which really is the point. Perhaps some industrious home businessman will refurbish the mower and sell it (yay, capitalism), which is fine by me. I try to be conscientious about disposing of items, but the old mower was beyond my skills, and I knew someone else would be ready to take it away.

I just didn't think it would be that fast.

TMNT, 2007

I don't get out to see movies in the theaters very much -- hard to believe with my schedule, but it's true -- but last night provided an opportunity, and there was a new release that I did want to see. TMNT, by now a sufficiently well-established brand name that they need not spell out the full version, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

There have been countless imitators of the title style -- three disjointed, somewhat absurd adjectives piling on top of a non-sequitur noun -- but none of those ever lasted long. Eastman and Laird did it first and did it best. I was in college when I first heard the name, and even my rather good primary comics store (the now-gone FantaCo in Albany, NY) couldn't hook me up. So I wrote out a check for some $6 and change and mailed it to Mirage Studios in Massachusetts. A few weeks later, a large envelope arrived, semi-folded in half (to fit the pathetic mailbox at my college apartment), containing issues #1 (third printing), #2 (second printing), and #3 (first printing; I mention this because I don't want anyone thinking I scored a now highly-valuable first printing of #1 for cover price; not so. Some of those earliest printings are valued highly, but the ones I have are not). I spent the next hour enjoying the heck out of some darn good comic books. The turtles themselves were well-developed characters -- not particularly deep, but consistent and motivated -- and the stories had actual plots, though nothing extraordinary as comic book stories go. It was good, sound craftsmanship with an amusing twist, though the fact that the protagonists were turtles never seemed to be particularly important; it was something to be worked around cleverly, and Eastman and Laird did so (stay out of sight, how did they become mutant turtles?, etc.) but the fact of their reptilianhood was rarely central.

Mirage hit a home run on its first try, and they cashed in big, with a cartoon series (never really watched; it was too juvenile, deliberately so, and yes, I realize I'm serving that criticism against a series sourced from comic books), and three live-action films in the early 1990s. (Super-short critiques: first film good, second atrocious, third a nice try based on actual Eastman & Laird comic stories, but it didn't get put together very well.) And then the turtles just sort of ... dropped out of sight ... I couldn't say why. Maybe the audience needs a generation to reset, like the Disney animation target demographic does. Anyway, the turtles are back.

The new film is CGI, of course, but I thought it was quite good; it allows the turtles to have a sleeker, more athletic design than the live action costumes did, good as they were. Overall the film is dark, but being set in New York City at night most of the time makes that unavoidable. The rather thin story -- a 3000-year old (and immortal) general is rounding up 13 transdimensional monsters in order to reverse the ritual he completed three millenia ago, and the turtles get involved -- isn't really interesting or sensible, but it doesn't have to be; it's a vehicle for the turtles to show their stuff. The general also has four lieutenants made of animate stone charged with capturing the monsters, and the turtles' traditional enemy, the Foot ninja clan (whom, aside from their leader, are primarily cannon fodder), also show up. Monsters, statues, ninja, and the turtles -- let's get it on! This movie is for the fight scenes, and they are very, very good (no matter how ridiculous or excessive -- really, that's the point). Throw in some inter-turtle strife between Leonardo and Raphael, which leads to a breathtaking duel and the film's emotional climax, and this is a delightful and thrilling popcorn flick.

About the only part of the film that disappointed me was the graphic design of the turtles' rat sensei, Splinter. He didn't have the right bulk -- should've been either larger or smaller -- and his fur was much too spiky. But, Splinter was voiced by the late, great Mako, who nailed the "wise, gruff, but loving master" voice decades ago, and whose talents will be missed from future installments (as well as from the fine television series Avatar). So this is more nitpickery than actual failing.

I didn't expect a lot, and got plenty and more. Well worth even a full-price ticket (for me, $8.50) at least one time. Definitely gonna get the DVD. Out of five stars: three.

Lasagna

Food to make the tastebuds happy.

Tonight I'm making lasagna. If you want to join in at home, here's the recipe.

You need:
Edibles:
28 oz. can Italian tomatoes (I prefer crushed; plain or seasoned is okay)
8 oz. can tomato sauce (not paste)
1 bulb fresh garlic
15 oz. tub ricotta cheese
1 can grated parmesan cheese
8 oz. package shredded mozzarella cheese
1.5 lb ground beef (at least 85/15; anything less is a waste)
1 package lasagna noodles (regular or oven-ready)
oregano
salt & pepper
olive oil

Equipment:
large frying pan with lid
9" x 13" pan (rectangular cake pan or similarly-sized casserole)
measuring cup
oven with stovetop
the usual gang of utensils

Peel apart the bulb of garlic and dice 2-3 peeled cloves (note: you can use more. It's not really possible to overdo garlic, if you like it as much as I do).
Brown the diced garlic in a dollop of olive oil over medium heat.
Add the beef; cook until brown. Drain the fat.
Reduce heat to medium-low, add tomatoes, sauce, tablespoon of oregano, whiff of salt & pepper.
Simmer 30-45 minutes. Kitchen, house will eventually reek (in a delightful way) of garlic.

Sit out the cheeses (especially the ricotta) so they can soften.

Noodles: if regular, boil and drain. If oven-ready, simply open box.

Lasagna construction:
In cake pan, from the bottom --
1 - 1.5 cups meat sauce
2 - one layer of noodles (3 if really wide, 4 if not)
3 - half of ricotta cheese
4 - 1/3 cup of parmesan
5 - 1/3 package of mozzarella
6 - another 1.5 cups of meat sauce
7 - another layer of noodles
8 - remainder of ricotta
9 - 1/3 cup of parmesan
10 - 1/3 package of mozzarella
11 - remainder of meat sauce
12 - last 1/3 of mozzarella
13 - at least 1/3 cup of parmesan (pile it on at will)

Bake at 350º F for 1 hour 15 minutes. Let stand 15-30 minutes before serving.

Refrigerate leftovers and enjoy again tomorrow, when the sauce has had time to congeal a bit, adding some mechanical strength with no loss of flavor.

Good-bye, Brad Delp

Brad Delp, lead singer for rock band Boston, died today.

Boston has only released five original albums in its 31-year history -- Don't Look Back, Third Stage, Walk On, Corporate America, and the first, the classic (iconic even), eponymous Boston. That first album hit like a thunderstorm in 1976 -- it was pure rock 'n roll, sweet guitars and cosmic sounds, and I was on the very cusp of my teenage years when such things were, and still are, so influential. And Delp's vocals were so fluid, integrated with the music, even integral to it. Yeah, Boston was always Tom Scholz' playground, but Delp's voice brought it to life and made it worth listening to.

I saw Boston live twice, in 1976 at the New Haven Coliseum and in 2004 at the Frank Erwin Center here in Austin. Both shows blew me away, and despite the 28-year interval and the evolution of Scholz's music and available tools and instruments, I couldn't tell the difference in how I felt after each show, other than being older, probably better able to appreciate the performance, and hoping the daughter was asleep when we got home following the 2004 concert.

The Coliseum came down in January after being closed for years -- and it's not sorely missed, because it was a dump from the day it opened. But I saw Boston play there (and probably inhaled my first marijuana smoke that night -- not mine, I was but twelve, but there was plenty being lit up), and that will always be a fond memory. Delp, Scholz, and the band were but dots down on stage, but damn, I saw Boston play, and even if it was very early in its career, it was probably the band at its peak; they've hardly come down since, and that was, to me, a great show.

Scholz works at a glacial pace, but maybe he's got a few tracks still unreleased that, some decade, he'll grace and surprise us with, some last legacy of Brad Delp's voice -- not great by itself, but so wonderful within the Boston sound. Well, we can but hope, and it'd be a topic for another time anyway.

I'm gonna pull out a Boston CD and play it. Why not do the same? Or find some clips on YouTube. Go forth and enjoy the delightful works Brad Delp left behind.

Thank you, Brad. Sorry you had to go.

(All potential Boston lyric-related puns deliberately avoided, I hope.)

The Zilker Park Kite Festival, 2007

Sunday was one of Austin's annual fun-for-all (and free!) events, the Zilker Park Kite Festival, the 79th edition. We've been to a few of the recent ones; it's many (but not too many) people, an assortment of dogs, many kites aloft, fresh air, sunshine, and a generally good time to be outside. Plus there is a display of giant (and always impressive) kites, which alone are worth seeing.

This year we decided not to fight for parking and availed ourselves of the free downtown parking garage and shuttle buses; for the kids this just added to the adventure. On the short drive through Austin, we passed by the rubble and remains of the Intel iSore, blown up last weekend (on purpose; post coming soon; video is complex to me), so that was interesting.

We got to Zilker Park about noon, soon joined up with Amalie's friend Noah and his family (Steve, Sarah, baby Lucy), and minutes later (I'd hiked off for a few quick pictures of the giant kites from a different view) Carson wandered off. I wasn't gone ten minutes, but when I came back only Steve was with all our gear, and before he could explain what had happened, a Festival attendant came back with Carson, solo. Some quick cell calls rounded up everyone else, and he was kept under watchful eye the rest of our time there.

Part of the Giant Kite display -- stingray, dog, shark, elephant head, squid.

We set up base camp at the edge of the large field overlooking the skyline, and I was granted leave to walk about for more picture-taking. I did a large loop, skirting the main field and walking back up to the giant kite display field and circling it. Then I made the mistake of deciding to buy a sandwich, the line wait during which my beard got noticably thicker. Finally I got back to base camp; Val had left to follow Carson's free-roaming. They eventually went as far as the Mopac footbridge, so that was probably a 2-mile hike on their part; more, knowing how Carson meanders.

Kites against the Austin skyline, including the Frost Tower.

Noah & family took their leave -- it was nearly 2:00 -- and we left soon after, taking more time to watch the giant kites (provided by Gomberg Kite Productions International -- fun site; surf around to find The World's Largest Kite, entertaining kite disasters, and more). The squid, I thought, was particularly amazing -- huge, yes, but also graceful and quite a clever design. It was fun to watch in much the same way observing fire or waterfalls or even fish are -- they are beautiful, almost hypnotically fluid in motion, and there's always a good chance that something surprising will happen, some unexpected shape or shift that evokes something deep in personal or racial memory, even if you're not exactly sure just what. (I'm pretty sure this was the 50 foot squid; a longer one is available, but it just didn't seem to be that huge. Still beautiful.)

The Stingray and Squid demonstrate Synchronized Sailing.

We trundled on to the shuttle buses (they were school buses, and I honestly cannot recall the last time I was on one of those), got back to the car, and drove for home. Both kids dozed off on the way. The Zilker Park Kite Fest on a perfect day -- one could hardly ask for more.

Getting the finger (back to healthy)

Sometime in January I got an infection around the base and cuticle of my right index finger. I'm not sure how; anyway, it was annoying, and late in the month I finally decided to try lancing and draining it. That helped a little, but I didn't do a very good job of it. The infection got worse, home treatment didn't help, and when I saw my nail starting to turn white (the infection spreading underneath) I finally went to a walk-in clinic, figuring this wasn't so complicated I should try for my regular physician or the local emergency room.

I was right, it wasn't complicated. I asked the attending doctor if I might lose the nail; he replied it was possible, but that it would grow back, no permanent harm. That was encouraging. The doctor prescribed me two different antibiotics, standard ten-day courses, and decided to perform his own lancing, telling me he was going to pierce my fingernail. That gave me pause, as it sounded, well, unpleasant. I asked if he was going to give me a local anasthetic. Nope. I said it sounded painful; he replied it would only be a little bit so, said he was going to get his "drilling kit", and left for a few minutes.

I got to sit there, thinking about what having my un-numbed fingernail pierced would be like.

The doctor came back with, oh, a double-aught gauge hypodermic, or something about that size. I held my hand flat on the table on a pad, and he cored a hole into the center back end of my nail. Yes, it hurt; not nearly the worst pain I've ever had, and I didn't flinch, but it hurt. He inspected his work and decided he hadn't gotten deep enough; the needle re-cored my nail. Deeper hurts worse; but this time he struck oil, or at least blood, which leaked out a good bit. Then he had me immerse my finger into a cup of peroxide for a few minutes; it foamed up like a high school science project volcano, killing the bad things and cleaning my finger quite well. When a nurse came around to clean and bandage my finger, there was only a little bit of peroxide left in the cup. She wrapped a complicated, full-finger bandage around my digit and told me to keep it on for two days. It lasted 36 hours, but I re-wrapped it well after the first bandage gave up. A checkup four days later resulted in a prognosis that the healing was well underway and to continue with the antibiotics and general cleaning and bandaging.

I finished the antibiotics earlier this week; the infection is long dead. The back end of my nail, which was starting to become visible when I went to the clinic, is now well up my finger, and a bit of baby nail material is growing behind it. Here, have a look:



The yellowish area is where my nail has separated from the finger. I typically keep an adhesive bandage on it during the day, mainly to prevent it from snagging on anything and possibly separating more. It doesn't hurt but I see no point in letting it get abused more. Earlier today I did something to further prevent snag potential, something which, I expect, few people have ever done. It only took a few seconds.

Today I trimmed the back of my fingernail.

Anyway... glad to have my finger heading back to healthy (even if it looks weirdly mangled). My kids find it amusing, and I got a strong reminder not to let infections linger. My arm still tenses a bit when I think of the piercing.

And the results...

...another shutout. On the field, this is a good thing (for the winning team; the losing team doesn't much like it). In an election, while it is a completely valid result, it provides no reasons to celebrate and only a little bit of interest in looking at the results. But let's do that anyway.

The 2007 Baseball Hall Of Fame Veterans Committee Ballots

The Players (82 votes cast, 62 needed for election)

rank candidate.....votes..percentage

1. Ron Santo*.......57 69.51%
2. Jim Kaat.........52 63.41%
3. Gil Hodges.......50 60.98%
4. Tony Oliva.......47 57.32%
5. Maury Wills......33 40.24%
6. Joe Torre........26 31.71%
7. Don Newcombe.....17 20.73%
8. Vada Pinson......16 19.51%
9t. Roger Maris.....15 18.29%
9t. Lefty O'Doul....15 18.29%
9t. Luis Tiant......15 18.29%
12t. Curt Flood.....14 17.07%
12t. Al Oliver......14 17.07%
12t. Mickey Vernon..14 17.07%
15t. Minnie Minoso*.12 14.63%
15t. Cecil Travis...12 14.63%
17t. Dick Allen*....11 13.41%
17t. Marty Marion...11 13.41%
19. Joe Gordon*.....10 12.20%
20. Ken Boyer*.......9 10.98%
21. Mickey Lolich....8 9.76%
22. Wes Ferrell......7 8.54%
23t. Sparky Lyle.....6 7.32%
23t. Carl Mays.......6 7.32%
23t. Thurman Munson..6 7.32%
26. Rocky Colavito...5 6.10%
27. Bobby Bonds......1 1.22%

The Non-players (81 votes cast, 61 needed for election)

1. Doug Harvey*.........52 64.20%
2. Marvin Miller*.......51 62.96%
3. Walter O'Malley*.....36 44.44%
4t. Buzzie Bavasi.......30 37.04%
4t. Dick Williams.......30 37.04%
6. Whitey Herzog........29 35.80%
7. Bill White...........24 29.63%
8. Bowie Kuhn...........14 17.28%
9. August Busch, Jr.....13 16.05%
10. Billy Martin........12 14.81%
11t. Charley O. Finley*.10 12.35%
11t. Gabe Paul..........10 12.35%
11t. Paul Richards......10 12.35%
14. Phil Wrigley.........9 11.11%
15. Harry Dalton.........8 9.88%

* Candidates for whom I would have voted.

The big movers by change in percentage points.

Players, relative to 2005.

Winners:
Newcombe, +10.7
Kaat, +9.6
Wills, +7.7

Losers:
Gordon, -5.3
Maris, -5.5
Marion, -6.6
Tiant, -6.7
Mays, -7.7
Boyer, -7.8
Pinson, -9.3
Torre, -13.3

Santo saw his second straight gain, +4.5 percentage points, so here's hoping for a happy ending in 2009. Among the other big gainers, only Kaat appears to have a chance. Torre's drop is particularly surprising in that he is still active, but perhaps some voters agree with me that a manager's plaque is his best destiny, and changed their minds from two years ago.

The non-players, relative to 2003.

Winners.
Miller, +18.7
Herzog, +4.2

Losers.
Paul, -4.1
Williams, -4.7
Bavasi, -6.0
Kuhn, -8.0
Martin, -13.0

Miller, I think, is inevitable. The electorate changes, more players get added, more modern thinkers win the writing and broadcasting awards -- it's a matter of time. I just hope he's still among us in 2011, if he finally gets his due then. I cannot imagine why Martin dropped off a cliff.

The non-player ballot requires some sort of temporary relegation method, because some of these candidates clearly are deadwood and need to be swept out at some point. Both ballots are completely reconstituted each voting cycle, but come on, Hall, repeating such glaringly obvious DOA candidates serves no meaningful purpose. The ballot is so short and the electorate sufficiently small that I wouldn't object to a 25% minimum return for reconsideration; anyone receiving less could not be considered for at least one cycle.

For that matter, the player ballot could use a temporary relegation method as well; perhaps a minimum of 5% (like the BBWAA ballot) or 10% (allowing for the much smaller electorate than the BBWAA provides) dumps a player out of consideration for one or two cycles.

The current VC has now had three elections in which it has honored no one. That's more irritating than genuinely bad, but if the 2009 vote is another shutout, the Hall will have to start rethinking this style of Veterans Committee, the composition of the electorate, because (and I have written this before) a committee that elects no one produces the same result as having no committee, and having no committee is easier.

That's it for 2007. The next Veterans Committee ballot for players is in 2009, and non-players in 2011. Stump for Santo; it is well past time he got moved to the good side of the velvet rope.

The Entire VC HOF Ballot Review

Quick set of links if you want to read the entire candidate review in order without having to scroll down and up and down and up and down and up....

VC Preliminaries
The Non-players, part 1 (Bavasi, Busch, Dalton, Finley, Harvey)
The Non-players, part 2 (Herzog, Kuhn, Martin, Miller, O'Malley)
The Non-players, part 3 (Paul, Richards, White, Williams, Wrigley)
The Players, part 1 (Allen, Bonds, Boyer, Colavito, Flood, Gordon, Hodges)
The Players, part 2 (Marion, Maris, Minoso, Munson, O'Doul, Oliva, Oliver)
The Players, part 3 (Pinson, Santo, Torre, Travis, Vernon, Wills)
The Players, part 4 (the pitchers - Ferrell, Kaat, Lolich, Lyle, Mays, Newcombe, Tiant)

My summary ballots.

Non-players: Charley O. Finley, Doug Harvey, Marvin Miller, Walter O'Malley.

Players: Dick Allen, Ken Boyer, Joe Gordon, Minnie Minoso, Ron Santo.

Hall ballots do not have rankings, but if I could pick only one name from each, I'd go with Miller and Santo. A review of major league baseball history has a gaping hole without Miller, and Santo simply was a great player not sufficiently appreciated in his own time.

2007 Baseball HOF VC Ballot: The Players (part 4 of 4; the pitchers)

And now, the pitchers, as we conclude our tour of the 2007 VC ballots.

21. Wes Ferrell
Playing career: 15 seasons; Cleveland Indians (1927-33), Boston Red Sox (1934-37), Washington Senators (1937-38), New York Yankees (1938-39), Brooklyn Dodgers (1940), Boston Braves (1941).
Standout season(s): 1930 (25-13, 296.2 IP, 143 K, 3.31 ERA, 146 adjERA).
Career stat highlight: 193 wins, .601 winning percentage.
Major honors and statistical crowns: two All-Star selections, wins once, complete games four times. Six 20+ win seasons.
Primary position: starting pitcher (right hand).
BBWAA Hall voting: 6 ballots, peaking at 3.63%.
2003 VC voting: 14.8%.
2005 VC voting: 11.3%.

Baseball bonus points: Ferrell holds the record for most career home runs by a pitcher, with 38 (yeah, Ruth had more, but only hit about 20 as a pitcher). Now, .280/.351/.446, 329 hits, 57 doubles, 38 dingers, 208 RBI, and 129 walks isn't going to get anyone into the Hall; but Ferrell provided more offense than just about any of his pitching peers, and it is worth noting that in his favor.

Ferrell was a good pitcher with some flashes of greatness, but never really dominated, tore through the league and made everyone sit down. He'd be among the best but never be the best. Ferrell won a lot with some rather weak teams, which isn't easy. His ERA and WHIP are both pretty high, though perhaps that's more reflective of the style of pitching of his times. Anyway, even adding in his batting skills, it's not enough.

Chipmaker's vote: no.

22. Jim Kaat
Playing career: 25 seasons; Washington Senators/Minnesota Twins (1959-73), Chicago White Sox (1973-75), Philadelphia Phillies (1976-79), New York Yankees (1979-80), St. Louis Cardinals (1980-83).
Standout season(s): 1966 (25-13, 304.2 IP, 205 K, 2.75 ERA, 131 adjERA).
Career stat highlight: 283 wins.
Major honors and statistical crowns: three All-Star selections, 1966 The Sporting News AL Pitcher Of The Year, 16 (!) Gold Gloves at pitcher (1962-77, 14 AL, 2 NL), wins once, complete games once, shutouts once. Three 20+ win seasons. Member of the 1982 World Series champion Cardinals, and three other postseason teams (actually a few more, but didn't play in October). If there had been separate Cy Young Awards for each league in 1966, he'd probably have won the AL award (Koufax got the single CYA). His 25 seasons played shared the record for longest career until Ryan surpassed it.
Primary position: starting pitcher for 20 years, then relief (left hand).
BBWAA Hall voting: 15 ballots, peaking at 29.55%.
2003 VC voting: not considered (was still on the BBWAA ballot).
2005 VC voting: 53.8% (fourth highest return).

A lot of people like Kitty for the Hall because of his big wins total – 283 is so agonizingly close to 300, and 300 wins gets in anyone. But, as I stated, I like to see great seasons, and Kaat didn't have many of those. A few, but not nearly enough. He played forever, and so contributed some value, but being average for a long time isn't the same as being very good for a long time. Kaat didn't demonstrate enough domination; that doesn't mean he wasn't a good pitcher. He just wasn't a Hall-class one. Yeah, the wallful of Gold Gloves is impressive, but it never was enough for the writers so I don't see why it might be now.

Chipmaker's vote: no.

23. Mickey Lolich
Playing career: 16 seasons; Detroit Tigers (1963-75), New York Mets (1976), San Diego Padres (1977-78).
Standout season(s): 1971 (25-14, 376 IP, 308 K, 2.92 ERA, 123 adjERA).
Career stat highlight: 41 shutouts, 2832 strikeouts.
Major honors and statistical crowns: three All-Star selections, wins once, strikeouts once, complete games once, shutouts once. Two 20+ win seasons. One 300+ strikeout season. Member of the 1968 World Series champion Tigers, famously going 3-0 with three complete games, and the 1972 AL East champion team as well.
Primary position: starting pitcher (left hand).
BBWAA Hall voting: 15 ballots, peaking at 25.53%.
2003 VC voting: 16.0%.
2005 VC voting: 11.3%.

Lolich had a couple of good seasons with sparkly numbers, but no truly great ones. Finished second once and third once in the AL Cy Young voting. Strikeouts are good, but keeping runs off the board is better. No sustained greatness, no plaque.

Chipmaker's vote: no.

24. Sparky Lyle
Playing career: 16 seasons; Boston Red Sox (1967-71), New York Yankees (1972-78), Texas Rangers (1979-80), Philadelphia Phillies (1980-82), Chicago White Sox (1982).
Standout season(s): 1974 (9-3, 15 saves, 114.0 IP, 89 K, 1.66 ERA, 210 adjERA), 1977 (13-5, 26 saves, 137.0 IP, 68 K, 2.17 ERA, 182 adjERA).
Career stat highlight: 238 saves, 899 games pitched.
Major honors and statistical crowns: 1977 AL Cy Young Award, three All-Star selections, saves twice. Member of the 1977-78 World Series champion Yankees (didn't pitch in the '78 WS), the 1976 AL champion, and the 1981 Phillies postseason team.
Primary position: relief pitcher (left hand) – never started a game.
BBWAA Hall voting: 4 ballots, peaking at 13.11%.
2003 VC voting: not considered.
2005 VC voting: 8.8%.

Lyle doesn't have the huge saves totals we see today, but relief pitching wasn't quite the same in the 70s as it is now. Regardless, Lyle was one of the best, with a few spectacular seasons, back when the relievers, even a closer (long before that term came into vogue), would be expected to pitch more than one inning. Lyle would probably look good on a plaque, but I'm not going to vote for him simply because there are better relief pitchers than he not yet in the Hall. When Gossage gets in, we can look at Sparky again.

Chipmaker's vote: no (but very open to future reconsideration).

25. Carl Mays
Playing career: 15 seasons; Boston Red Sox (1915-19), New York Yankees (1919-23), Cincinnati Reds (1924-28), New York Giants (1929).
Standout season(s): 1921 (27-9, 336.2 IP, 70 K, 3.05 ERA, 139 adjERA).
Career stat highlight: 207 wins, .622 winning percentage.
Major honors and statistical crowns: Wins once, winning percentage once, saves twice, complete games twice, shutouts twice. Five 20+ win seasons. Member of the 1916 and 1918 World Series champion Red Sox, and the 1921-22 NL champion Giants. Though the save was not an official statistic until decades later, in 1921 Mays led the NL in wins (27) and saves (7), which must be pretty rare. If there had been a Cy Young Award at the time, Mays would have won it. Played before the All-Star Game was initiated.
Primary position: starting pitcher, though he appeared in 165 games in relief as well (right hand).
BBWAA Hall voting: 1 ballot, peaking at 2.26%.
2003 VC voting: 19.8%.
2005 VC voting: 15.0%.

Baseball bonus points: could hit a little; Mays went .268/.313/.350 lifetime, with 291 hits, 32 doubles, 21 triples, five homers, and 66 walks in 1199 plate appearances. It's nice when the manager can count on a bit of offense from his pitcher.

Mays had a good career, couple of great seasons, but nothing compelling enough for me to vote for him. He also carries one of the heaviest pieces of baggage in baseball history – in 1920, Cleveland shortstop Ray Chapman took a Mays pitch to his head, collapsed, and died the next day, the only on-field fatal incident in major league history. I've read about it some – balls were kept in use even when mucky and marked-up, making them harder to see than new, white balls; it was getting on toward sunset, the light failing; and this was long before batting helmets (even after Chapman's death, MLB didn't mandate phasing in helmets until the late 1950s). I don't blame Mays – it was just an accident, a stupid twist of fate that had the worst possible outcome. But Chapman's fate has become inextricable from Mays' playing record. I don't think his career was Hall-class anyway, but add in the Chapman incident and I can see how voters would be even more down on him.

Chipmaker's vote: no.

26. Don Newcombe
Playing career: 10 seasons; Brooklyn/Los Angeles Dodgers (1949-51, '54-58), Cincinnati Reds (1958-60), Cleveland Indians (1960). Also played for the Newark Eagles of the Negro Leagues in 1944-45, and served two years (1952-53) in the military.
Standout season(s): 1956 (27-7, 268.0 IP, 139 K, 5 shutouts, 3.06 ERA, 130 adjERA).
Career stat highlight: 149 wins, .623 winning percentage.
Major honors and statistical crowns: 1956 NL MVP, 1956 Major League Cy Young Award (the first given, and before it was split between leagues), 1949 NL ROY, four All-Star selections, wins once, winning percentage twice, strikeouts once, shutouts once. Three 20+ win seasons. Member of the 1955 World Series champion Dodgers and two other NL champion Dodger teams, and had it not been for the army he'd probably have been on the 1952-53 pennant winners as well, helping greatly, and maybe even bringing home another trophy -- ah, well.
Primary position: starting pitcher (right hand).
BBWAA Hall voting: 15 ballots, peaking at 15.32% (on his final ballot).
2003 VC voting: 13.6%.
2005 VC voting: 10.0%.

Baseball bonus points: a pretty good hitter as pitchers go. Batted .271/.338/.367, 238 hits, 33 doubles, 15 homers, 108 RBI, 87 walks in 988 plate appearances. Hit seven homers and posted a 165 adjOPS in 1955.

It's probably without dispute that Newcombe was the first superstar black pitcher in the majors. He had good success on a great team, the 1950s Dodgers, "Dem Bums". But he only had a short burst of greatness – the military service robbed us of seeing much more, similar to Willie Mays or Ted Williams, but whereas those two men played on, Newcombe faded quickly after age 30, in part due to an arm injury (Newcombe himself also blames his battles with alcohol). Even if he had back the two years, he probably wouldn't really have Hall-class testimony, and we can't give them back, unfortunately. Never won a game in the World Series, which I won't hold against him, but I know he took that hard. Great team; good pitcher. Newcombe would look good on a plaque but the Hall is not suffering for his absence.

Chipmaker's vote: no.

27. Luis Tiant
Playing career: 19 seasons; Cleveland Indians (1964-69), Minnesota Twins (1970), Boston Red Sox (1971-78), New York Yankees (1979-80), Pittsburgh Pirates (1981), California Angels (1982).
Standout season(s): 1968 (21-9, 258.1 IP, 264 K, 1.60 ERA, 184 adjERA).
Career stat highlight: 229 wins.
Major honors and statistical crowns: three All-Star selections, two AL ERA titles, shutouts three times. Four 20+ win seasons. Member of the 1975 AL champion Red Sox and the 1970 AL West champion Twins teams.
Primary position: starting pitcher (right hand).
BBWAA Hall voting: 15 ballots, peaking at 30.91% (on his first ballot).
2003 VC voting: not considered (had just come off the BBWAA ballot in 2002).
2005 VC voting: 25.0%.

Baseball bonus points: El Tiante was no hitter, but did put together an amazing performance during his one season in Minnesota – batted .406/.424/.531, 13 hits in 32 at-bats, 4 doubles, 4 RBI, and one walk, for a 162 adjOPS. It was a fluke, but an impressive one.

There are all sorts of stories about Tiant. He would smoke cigars in the shower. He had dozens of windups and dozens of pitches, meaning his possible combinations of both were countless and the batter never knew what was coming. He sure was fun to watch on the mound (I saw him throw one inning in an exhibition game in 1995 or so, pretty much tossing meatballs, but he still had the hip-swivel, wobble, wiggle, and burst toward the plate as he'd always had. Oh, it was fun to call out "LOOOOOOOOOIIEEEEEE!" one more time.) When he was on his game he was unstoppable, but that was pretty rare. Tiant had two genuinely great seasons (even in 1968, when any farmboy on the mound was looking like the reincarnation of Grove, he stood out), a couple of above-average ones, and a bunch of average ones. That's not Hall class. I love the guy, I'll always be proud of his 1975 season, but no plaque for you, Luis.

Chipmaker's vote: no (even though it makes me a little sad to vote so).

And that's it, the 2007 Hall Of Fame Veterans Committee ballot candidates, players and non-players. As I stated in the introduction, there's just not that many historical injustices in need of redress, so a lot of these ballots are filler – worthy players who earned their honoraria, but few true greats who have been grievously overlooked. The current VC process, the third cycle of which ends tomorrow with the voting announcement, almost seems hamstrung by its mandates and minimums – there has to be at least 25 players, and 15 non-players, when the ballots come around every two or four years. And there just isn't that many people in need of reconsideration. (The non-player ballot, at least, needs some sort of churning mechanism, because there is no way the entire 2003 ballot should have been repeated in 2007. For 2011, I'm certain we'll see Buck O'Neill on the ballot, after the 2006 Special Committee dropped the ball on his candidacy; but there should be a few other new names among the 15. It simply would make for a more interesting process, and show that the Hall is taking it seriously.)

The Hall is for honoring baseball greatness, the best of all times on the field, the biggest contributors off the field, the men who excelled at the game or were transformative to it in some positive way. The results are announced tomorrow, February 27, at 14:00 Eastern. Let's hope someone gets in this time, if just to prove that the process works. Another shutout would be, well, less than interesting.

Chipmaker's final player ballot: Allen, Boyer, Gordon, Minoso, Santo.

If I could vote for only one: Ron Santo.

Prediction of the actual VC player ballot results, on which I'd be willing to wager a quarter per name: Santo and Hodges get elected.

2007 Baseball HOF VC Ballot: The Players (part 3 of 4; the position players, part iii of iii)

15. Vada Pinson
Playing career: 18 seasons; Cincinnati Reds (1958-68), St. Louis Cardinals (1969), Cleveland Indians (1970-71), California Angels (1972-73), Kansas City Royals (1974-75).
Standout season(s): 1963 (.313/.347/.514, 22 HR, 106 RBI, 204 hits, 142 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: 2757 hits.
Major honors and statistical crowns: Two All-Star selections, one NL Gold Glove for outfield (1961), runs once, hits twice (had four 200+ hit seasons), double twice, triples twice.
Primary position: center field.
BBWAA Hall voting: 15 ballots, peaking at 15.69%.
2003 VC voting: 25.9%.
2005 VC voting: 28.8%.

Pinson is another good but not great 1960s outfielder. Good defense, good hitting, but nothing that stands up and proclaims Hall-worthy greatness. I think this is the correct state of affairs, and should continue forthwith.

Chipmaker's vote: no.

16. Ron Santo
Playing career: 15 seasons; Chicago Cubs (1960-73), Chicago White Sox (1974).
Standout season(s): 1964 (.312/.398/.564, 30 HR, 114 RBI, 86 walks, 164 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: 342 HR (28th when he retired, now 77th)
Major honors and statistical crowns: Nine All-Star selections, five NL Gold Gloves at third base, OBP twice, triples once, walks four times. Jersey #10 retired by the Cubs.
Primary position: third base.
BBWAA Hall voting: 15 ballots, peaking at 43.13% (on his final ballot).
2003 VC voting: 56.8% (third highest return).
2005 VC voting: 65.0% (tied for highest return).

I could write a lengthy and spirited defense of Santo, but won't. Played third base, a notoriously difficult position, and played it extremely well. Hit a ton, and it wasn't just Wrigley Field being friendly to him. Drew lots of walks. And he did the bulk of this in the 1960s, a pitchers' era.

I honestly do not understand how Santo has been overlooked for so long by the Hall's electoral colleges. Part may have been genuine underappreciation for his career, which is waning as analysis continuously improves. Another part may have been utter disbelief on the part of the writers, that no team with three Hall Of Famers (Banks, Williams, Jenkins from 1966-71, plus cameos by Roberts and Wilhelm) could fail to win a division at least once, so there's no way there could be four HOFers on the squad – meaning Santo loses out. I just don't understand.

Chipmaker's vote: yes, absolutely.

17. Joe Torre
Playing career: 18 seasons; Milwaukee/Atlanta Braves (1960-68), St. Louis Cardinals (1969-74), New York Mets (1975-77).
Standout season(s): 1971 (.363/.421/.555, 24 HR, 137 RBI, 230 hits, 171 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: 2342 hits.
Major honors and statistical crowns: 1971 NL MVP, nine All-Star selections, one NL Gold Glove at catcher (1965), one NL batting title, hits once, RBI once.
Primary position: catcher early, first base later. Won his MVP while playing third, however.
BBWAA Hall voting: 15 ballots, peaking at 22.20% (on his final ballot, and right after he'd won the first Yankees championship in 18 years).
2003 VC voting: 35.8% (fourth highest return).
2005 VC voting: 45.0% (fifth highest return).

Baseball bonus points: has been a manager for 25 seasons, with the New York Mets, Atlanta Braves, St. Louis Cardinals, and (continuing with) the New York Yankees. Won one NL West title with the Braves and also has done pretty well in his tenure with the Yanks.

Torre bounced around a bit, both in teams and positions, neither of which is a bad thing. He was a good hitter with a few great seasons. In broad strokes, there is no particular reason why Torre isn't yet in the Hall, except perhaps that he never hit any big career milestone numbers. But let's be pragmatic: while player Torre may never get in, manager Torre, with four World Series championships with the Yankees (in a five-year span) to his credit, certainly will someday after he retires. I'm not sure if the Hall has a policy on what it would do if a given individual was honored twice, for different roles; it would be interesting to say the least. Player Torre good – Manager Torre great. Let's let him get the plaque that best represents his lasting contribution to the game of baseball.

Chipmaker's vote: no (though I might vote yes if he didn't have the Yankees manager plaque essentially inevitable in his future).

18. Cecil Travis
Playing career: 12 seasons; Washington Senators (1933-41, '45-47) with almost four seasons spent in military service (played only 15 games in 1945).
Standout season(s): 1941 (.359/.410/.520, 218 hits, 39 doubles, 19 triples, 101 RBI, 150 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: .314 AVG.
Major honors and statistical crowns: three All-Star selections, hits once.
Primary position: shortstop, plus third base for four seasons.
BBWAA Hall voting: never named to the ballot.
2003 VC voting: not considered.
2005 VC voting: not considered.

Man, Travis is a weird case; he's never before been given any recorded consideration for the honor of the Hall. Short career due to a long stretch in the army; froze his feet at the Battle Of The Bulge, and though he recovered he lost some mobility, which is a critical skill for a middle infielder. Good hitter "for a shortstop" but, while he did have some good seasons, he wasn't going to impress anyone with his hitting. Made the strategic mistake of peaking in 1941, when two guys named Williams and DiMaggio were grabbing all the headlines. Can't knock him for the service to the war effort, but the ballot considers him as a player, and as a player he's not quite there.

Chipmaker's vote: no.

19. Mickey Vernon
Playing career: 20 seasons; Washington Senators (1939-43, '46-48, '50-55), Cleveland Indians (1949-50, '58), Boston Red Sox (1956-57), Milwaukee Braves (1959), Pittsburgh Pirates (1960), plus two seasons spent in military service.
Standout season(s): 1953 (.337/.403/.518, 15 HR, 115 RBI, 205 hits, 101 runs, 43 doubles, 11 triples, 149 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: 2495 hits, participated in 2044 double-plays, which was a record at the time and may still be.
Major honors and statistical crowns: seven All-Star selections, two AL batting titles, doubles three times.
Primary position: first base.
BBWAA Hall voting: 15 ballots, peaking at 24.94% (on his final ballot).
2003 VC voting: not considered.
2005 VC voting: not considered.

Baseball bonus points: was the first manager for the (second, expansion) Senators for three years immediately after he retired from playing. His record isn't good, but this was the Senators, and there's only so much any manager could have done.

Vernon was a good player for a long, long time – 20 seasons plus two sitting out is rare in any era – but first basemen get into the Hall on their hitting, and while he had a couple of great seasons, most of the time he was just pretty good. His peak came in his mid-30s, which today would bring accusations of, oh, something inane. Back then it was just how it was. Vernon was durable and useful, but not enough of anything for the Hall.

Chipmaker's vote: no.

20. Maury Wills
Playing career: 14 seasons; Los Angeles Dodgers (1959-66, '69-72), Pittsburgh Pirates (1967-68), Montreal Expos (1969).
Standout season(s): 1962 (.299/.347/.373, 6 HR, 48 RBI, 208 hits, 130 runs, major league record 104 stolen bases, 99 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: 586 stolen bases.
Major honors and statistical crowns: 1962 NL MVP, five All-Star selections, two NL Gold Gloves at shortstop (1961-62), triples once, stolen bases six times (consecutive), singles four times. Member of three World Series champion teams (1959, '63, '65) and another NL champion (1966). Due to the Dodgers playing a three-game playoff against the Giants in 1962, Wills is the only man to have played in 165 games in a single championship season, getting in to every game.
Primary position: shorstop.
BBWAA Hall voting: 15 ballots, peaking at 40.65%.
2003 VC voting: 29.6% (fifth highest return).
2005 VC voting: 32.5%.

Baseball bonus points: was a manager for the Seattle Mariners for parts of two seasons.

Wills' big claim to fame is that he restored the stolen base to the game, making it another tool in a team's offensive kit. But that base-stealing speed didn't translate into more doubles or triples, because he couldn't hit very much; singles, sure. And he got caught stealing a lot, too; not disastrously so, but that is the price of running freely. Wills was a good shortstop and it's not at all unusual to find a light hitter playing there. He did shake up the game. If his speed had given him 300+ doubles instead of only 177, he'd have a more compelling candidacy; as it is, while somewhat more than a one-trick pony, he doesn't have a great deal besides that one trick to stand upon.

Chipmaker's vote: no.

2007 Baseball HOF VC Ballot: The Players (part 2 of 4; the position players, part ii of iii)

8. Marty Marion
Playing career: 13 seasons; St. Louis Cardinals (1940-50), St. Louis Browns (1952-53).
Standout season(s): 1944 (.267/.324/.362, 6 HR, 63 RBI, 91 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: .969 fielding percentage.
Major honors and statistical crowns: 1944 NL MVP, eight All-Star selections, doubles once. Member of three World Series champion (1942, '44, '46) and one other NL champion (1943) teams.
Primary position: shortstop.
BBWAA Hall voting: 12 ballots, peaking at 40.00%.
2003 VC voting: 21.0%.
2005 VC voting: 20.0%.

Baseball bonus points: was a manager for six seasons, for the Cardinals, Browns (where he was a player/manager, a rare breed even then, now essentially extinct), and Chicago White Sox.

Marion was a dazzling fielder, turning bunches of double plays, but had no power whatsoever, particularly surprising because he was, at 6'2", a very large shortstop, which was pretty rare pre-Ripken. An injury to his back ended his Cardinals playing career, and his short revival across town was nothing encouraging. Health can always be such a significant factor in a player's career, and sometimes these sorts of things happen. If he was even league-average at the plate I'd be much more willing, but that noodlebat (he usually batted eighth) is too much for any glovework to overcome. The MVP Award and All-Star games will have to be enough recognition for Marion.

Chipmaker's vote: no.

9. Roger Maris
Playing career: 12 seasons; Cleveland Indians (1957-58), Kansas City Athletics (1958-59), New York Yankees (1960-66), St. Louis Cardinals (1967-68).
Standout season(s): 1961 (.269/.372/.620, record 61 HR, 142 RBI, 167 adjOPS), 1960 (.283/.371/.581, 39 HR, 112 RBI, 161 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: 275 HR.
Major honors and statistical crowns: 1960 and 1961 AL MVP, four All-Star selections, one AL Gold Glove for outfield, HR once (famously), RBI twice, SLG once, Runs once. Member of three World Series champions (1961-62, '67) and four other league champion teams (1960, '63-64, '68). Jersey #9 retired by the Yankees.
Primary position: right field.
BBWAA Hall voting: 15 ballots, peaking at 43.09%.
2003 VC voting: 22.2%.
2005 VC voting: 23.8%.

Maris had a good career but nowhere near a great one. Outside of his two great, deservedly MVP-winning seasons, he never posted a full season adjOPS of 130 or more, and after 1962 he only played in 140+ games once. Maris' enduring fame rests upon that one statistic, 61 home runs in the 1961 season, and that simply is not and never should be enough for the honor of the Hall. If he had finished with 59 homers, the continuing debate wouldn't even be a whimper. That he reached his record mark while playing in Yankee pinstripes simply magnifies the frenzy of his proponents; the Yankee franchise brings unusual passion and emotion with it, which is mostly well-earned if sometimes misplaced. The MVPs and the All-Star games are the right amount of honoraria for Maris. And he does still hold the American League single season record for home runs, at least for a 162-game schedule.

Chipmaker's vote: no.

10. Minnie Minoso
Playing career: 17 Major League seasons; Cleveland Indians (1949, '51, '58-59), Chicago White Sox (1951-57, '60-61, '64, and gimmick appearances in 1976 and 1980), St. Louis Cardinals (1962), Washington Senators (1963); plus three seasons with the New York Cubans of the Negro Leagues (1946-48).
Standout season(s): 1954 (.320/.411/.525, 19 HR, 116 RBI, 18 triples (!), 119 runs, 155 adjOPS); 1956 (.316/.425/.525, 21 HR, 88 RBI, 11 triples, 149 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: .389 OBP, which is just below the Top 100 through 2006, and if we throw out all the 19th-century guys with impossibly high OBPs he'd rank pretty well (around 70th) indeed.
Major honors and statistical crowns: seven All-Star selections; three Gold Gloves for outfield (1957, '59-60), Hits once, doubles once, triples three times, stolen bases three times, total bases once. Hit-by-pitch ten times, which had to hurt but got him on base. Only man to play in five calendar decades, though the last two were PR stunts. Jersey #9 retired by the White Sox. Also a two-time All-Star in the Negro Leagues, and a member of the 1947 champion team.
Primary position: outfield.
BBWAA Hall voting: 15 ballots, peaking at 21.08%.
2003 VC voting: 19.8%.
2005 VC voting: 15.0%.
2006 Special Negro League voting: not elected (vote totals not released).

Minoso carries a complex candidacy. The "five decades" stunt (which I don't hold against him, but give no credit for) is what he's best known for, unfortunately. He was a very good hitter with flashes of greatness and also a very good fielder. And while he lost some time from the majors as the color barrier slowly fell, it wasn't a great deal and probably, alone, not enough to tip any Hall scales either way. Minoso has a hard time standing out because his contemporaries in the outfield include such names as Mays, Mantle, Aaron, Clemente, Robinson, Snider – tough crowd. He remains one of the most popular players in White Sox history. Faded quite quickly after 1961. Finished fourth in the AL MVP voting three times over eight years, so he sustained his peak very well. His three seasons in the Negro Leagues, although a small sample size, were pretty good (two seasons) to amazing (batted .392 in 1948; to see the official statistics compiled for the 2006 Special Election committee, click and scroll down to page 7 – PDF file).

While I strongly am against Hall consideration including any sort of "what might have been" when discussing players who lost time to injuries, there is, I think, a difference between that sort of situation and the men who ran up against the color barrier. Those men were in a "were not allowed to be" scenario, in which case I have no problem whatsoever looking at the Negro League stats and imagining what might have been had they been in the National or American League. Minoso's actual age reportedly is five years greater than his official age; give him back three years with the Cubans and five more as well and, heck, Willie Mays might be looking upwards at Minoso in some respects. This doesn't make him a stronger candidate, but just think what he could have done... ah, baseball, you are a harsh mistress, we cannot help but think of you in so many ways. Minoso was darn good and, merely by dint of his skin, was denied at least three years, possibly as many as eight or nine, in which he could have shown his stuff, maybe even better than the best recorded.

Chipmaker's vote: yes (because, sometimes, the stats don't tell it all).

11. Thurman Munson
Playing career: 11 seasons; New York Yankees (1969-79).
Standout season(s): 1973 (.301/.362/.487, 20 HR, 74 RBI, 141 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: 1558 hits.
Major honors and statistical crowns: 1976 AL MVP, 1970 AL ROY, seven All-Star selections, three AL Gold Gloves at catcher (1973-75), singles once. Member of the 1977-78 World Series champion and the 1976 AL champion teams. Jersey #15 retired by the Yankees.
Primary position: catcher.
BBWAA Hall voting: 15 ballots, peaking at 15.46% (on his first ballot, and Munson got early consideration due to the unfortunate end of his career).
2003 VC voting: 4.9%.
2005 VC voting: 2.5%.

Munson draws a lot of popular support among fans, particularly Yankees fans, because he was a marketable tuff guy, played on some noteworthy teams, and had the tragic ending which keeps his memory alive. Catcher is a tough position, and we have to give the men who played a lot there something of a break. But even with that break, Munson had a very short career (for a sad reason, but think of it as an extreme injury) and, to be honest, was fading badly – perhaps so much catching had really beaten him down no matter how tough he tried to be – and probably didn't have a lot of revival ahead of him, even switching to first base or DH, had he lived. We saw his best, and outside of his best, he didn't have enough to win Hall bronze. Like Maris, a short and very good peak in pinstripes. That makes him popular, but it doesn't earn him the plaque.

Chipmaker's vote: no.

12. Lefty O'Doul
Playing career: 11 seasons; New York Yankees (1919-20, '22), Boston Red Sox (1923), New York Giants (1928, '33-34), Philadelphia Phillies (1929-30), Brooklyn Dodgers (1931-33).
Standout season(s): 1929 (.398/.465/.622, 32 HR, 122 RBI, 254 hits (NL record, still), 152 Runs, 159 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: .349 AVG (4th all-time among players with 3000+ plate appearances).
Major honors and statistical crowns: selected as an All-Star in the first game in 1933; two NL batting titles (1929, 1932), OBP once, hits once. Member of the 1933 World Series champion Giants (didn't do much, but what he did do was good – hit a two-run single and later came around to score in Game 2, his only at-bat in the Series). The bridge across McCovey Cove in San Francisco is named for him.
Primary position: outfield.
BBWAA Hall voting: 10 ballots, peaking at 16.73%.
2003 VC voting: not considered.
2005 VC voting: not considered.

Baseball bonus points: started out as a pitcher but didn't impress anyone. Played in the Pacific Coast League with the San Francisco Seals during the four-year break in his major league career, winning the 1927 MVP. Later managed in the PCL for 23 seasons.

O'Doul broke into the big leagues as a pitcher, but only got into 34 games in his first four seasons, pitching 77.2 innings. Obviously this part of his career isn't going to get him into the Hall. Had a great four-season peak after he came back. Invaluable in planting baseball in Japan and encouraging the game in that nation for the rest of his life. Acclaimed as a great hitting instructor whom even Ted Williams credited. The career transformation and comeback is a good story, but as a player (and this is the player's ballot), O'Doul isn't Hall measure. If he comes up on the non-player ballot as a "lifetime contributor/ambassador for the game" he'll have a better chance. Outside of his four-year peak, he doesn't have enough on the major league field for Cooperstown.

Chipmaker's vote: no.

13. Tony Oliva
Playing career: 15 seasons; Minnesota Twins (1962-76).
Standout season(s): 1964 (.323/.359/.557, 32 HR, 94 RBI, 217 hits, 150 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: 1917 hits.
Major honors and statistical crowns: 1964 AL ROY, eight All-Star selections, one AL Gold Glove for outfield (1966), three AL batting titles, slugging once, runs once, hits five times (two 200+ seasons), doubles four times. Member of the 1965 AL champion and 1969-70 AL West champion Twins. Jersey #6 retired by the Twins.
Primary position: right fielder for eight full seasons, DH for three.
BBWAA Hall voting: 15 ballots, peaking at 47.31%.
2003 VC voting: 59.3% (second highest return).
2005 VC voting: 56.3% (third highest return).

I don't hold playing DH against anyone. It's a real position (and has now been around for over a third of a century) and sometimes it's the best fit for a player. Oliva could hit, and he did that very well in a notoriously difficult era (the 1960s). But his glove and defense was right around league average (and, as a DH, non-existent), and while he hit well he never had the sort of dominant, monster seasons that outfielders tend to need to earn a plaque. Peak OPS seasons of 154 and 150, a 146, a 140, 139, some other 130s... that, to me, is just missing the level the Hall looks to honor. A knee injury moved him from the outfield to the DH slot, but as with many others, injuries happen and are a part of the game. Oliva stands well next to Hodges as The Best Player Not In The Hall (after Santo, of course). Gotta be someone, and Oliva fits the role.

Chipmaker's vote: no.

14. Al Oliver
Playing career: 18 seasons; Pittsburgh Pirates (1968-77), Texas Rangers (1978-81), Montreal Expos (1982-83), San Francisco Giants (1984), Philadelphia Phillies (1984), Los Angeles Dodgers (1985), Toronto Blue Jays (1985).
Standout season(s): 1982 (.331/.392/.514, 22 HR, 109 RBI, 204 hits, 150 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: 2743 hits.
Major honors and statistical crowns: seven All-Star selections, three Silver Sluggers (at three different positions – 1980 OF, 1981 DH, 1982 1B), one NL batting title, hits once, doubles twice, RBI once. Two 200+ hit seasons. Member of the 1971 World Series champion Pirates and five other division champion teams.
Primary position: outfield for 2/3 of career, then 1B.
BBWAA Hall voting: 1 ballot, peaking at 4.29%.
2003 VC voting: not considered.
2005 VC voting: not considered.

Baseball bonus points: from the time he was traded to the Rangers through the end of his career, Oliver wore jersey #0 – yes, zero – to symbolize his initial. Wearing zero is extremely rare in baseball and somewhat bizarrely cool, and just had to be mentioned.

Oliver ranks fourth in hits among eligible players not in the Hall (behind Baines, Dawson, and Pinson). He had a very good career and was often among the league leaders in several categories, but never put up a dominant season outside of 1982. Playing very well for a long time is valuable, but not really what the Hall is looking to honor.

Chipmaker's vote: no.

2007 Baseball HOF VC Ballot: The Players (part 1 of 4; the position players, part i of iii)

Now we turn to the Veterans Committee player ballot, which has 27 candidates.

In many ways this is easier than the non-players, because we have the on-field statistics to tell us much, and if what the stats tell us is not very impressive, there had best be some truly significant and compelling additional testimony about a player's contribution before there should be serious consideration given.

A few comments about how I view the Hall's mandate with respect to players:

First, I value great seasons over flashy career numbers. Career stats are a shorthand; a fairly reliable shorthand in some cases, like, oh, 3000+ hits, because no one gets to that milestone by mistake. But such a number reveals nothing about how it was built, the seasons that went into the total. As the annual goal of baseball is to win the championship (or, more broadly regarding the season, to win a playoff berth), it is intuitively obvious that a single great season contributes more toward that goal than a pretty good season or two does. (A player's team may not capitalize upon his great season, but baseball is a team game and sometimes that happens, that an MVP-worthy performance has to stay home in October.)

Second, I do look for a qualitative rollup of quantitative data. For hitters, I like to see offensive destruction; for pitchers, dominance; for defense, if that is a player's primary claim supporting his Hall candidacy, I like to see legends told (which, I grant, is not easy, but neither should be Hall admission).

Third, to put some numbers to it, I like hitters' full seasons with an adjusted OPS of 140 or more, and pitchers with adjusted ERAs to 140 or more as well. Using 140 isn't hard and fast, there has to be flexibility to it, but it makes for a general starting point. Someone who exceeded 140 adjOPS on a regular basis was clearly doing things very well on the field, even if his other, likely more popular statistics, didn't well-reflect such performance due to other, mitigating factors (like, maybe, a pitcher's offense never scored him any runs).

Fourth, position matters. It's much harder to find a good-hitting second baseman than it is a first baseman.

So, the players – position players first, pitchers later, in the ever-reliable alphabetical order.

1. Dick Allen
Playing career: 15 seasons; Philadelphia Phillies (1963-69, '75-76), St. Louis Cardinals (1970), Los Angeles Dodgers (1971), Chicago White Sox (1972-74), Oakland Athletics (1977).
Standout season(s): 1966 (.317/.396/.632, 40 HR, 110 RBI, 181 adjOPS), 1972 (.308/.420/.603, 37 HR, 113 RBI, 200 (!) adjOPS)
Career stat highlight: 351 HR (29th all-time when he retired; now 71st)
Major honors and statistical crowns: 1972 AL MVP, 1964 NL ROY, seven All-Star selections, OBP twice, SLG three times, Runs once, HR twice, RBI once, walks once, adjOPS three times.
Primary positions: 1B later in his career, 3B earlier.
BBWAA Hall voting: 14 ballots, peaked at 18.94%.
2003 VC voting: 16.0%.
2005 VC voting: 15.0%.

Dick Allen could hit, slug, and draw walks. He was a better hitter than – yes, really – Albert Belle. He picked up a reputation for being a pain in the neck, which he doesn't really deserve, but being black and accomplished and no-nonsense in certain eras didn't win brownie points. Tore the AL to shreds in 1972. Only had one postseason appearance, with Philadelphia in 1976, and the Reds pushed them aside in three straight; Allen didn't do much but neither did anyone else except Jay Johnstone.

Never was popular. Defense nothing impressive; he moved to first after an off-field hand injury (itself a source of controversy) hampered his throwing abilities. But golly, could this man hit.

Chipmaker's vote: yes (though he'd be the last name on my ballot and the first one off it).

2. Bobby Bonds
Playing career: 14 seasons; San Francisco Giants (1968-74), New York Yankees (1975), California Angels (1976-77), Chicago White Sox (1978), Texas Rangers (1978), Cleveland Indians (1979), St. Louis Cardinals (1980), Chicago Cubs (1981).
Standout season(s): 1973 (.283/.370/.530, 39 HR, 96 RBI, 43 stolen bases, 143 adjOPS – just one homer short of chartering the 40/40 club).
Career stat highlight: 332 HR, 461 stolen bases.
Major honors and statistical crowns: three All-Star selections, three NL Gold Gloves for outfield (1971, '73-74), Runs twice, total bases once.
Primary position: outfield.
BBWAA Hall voting: 11 ballots, peaked at 10.64%.
2003 VC voting: 6.2%.
2005 VC voting: 5.0%.

Bobby Bonds was best known for being a power-and-speed guy; he made the "30 HR and 30 stolen bases club" in one season five times, which has only been equaled by one other guy (who is also named Bonds). He could hit the longball and swipe a base, and got on base often enough to make it noteworthy. But he never put together that one monster season, and after leaving the Giants he was the definition of "journeyman". He had some seasons where injuries took their toll, and he was a notorious free-swinger, setting the single season record for strikeouts with 187 in 1969 and 189 in 1970, a record that stood for 34 years. After he retired he coached some, including for the Giants, which is worth a little bonus credit, and among his children is a young lad named Barry, who has been busily leaving his own mark upon baseball. Still, the electors have been getting it right: this Bonds is not what the Hall is looking for.

Chipmaker's vote: no. (But thanks for the son, Bobby. He's amazingly entertaining to watch.)

3. Ken Boyer
Playing career: 15 seasons; St. Louis Cardinals (1955-65), New York Mets (1966-67), Chicago White Sox (1967-68), Los Angeles Dodgers (1968-69).
Standout season(s): 1960 (.304/.370/.562, 32 HR, 97 RBI, 143 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: 2143 hits.
Major honors and statistical crowns: 1964 NL MVP, seven All-Star selections, five NL Gold Gloves at third base (1958-61, '63), RBI once. Member of the 1964 World Series champion, and had a good Series, hitting two homers.
Primary position: third base.
BBWAA Hall voting: 15 ballots, peaked at 25.53%.
2003 VC voting: 13.6%.
2005 VC voting: 18.8%.

Baseball bonus points: managed the Cardinals for parts of three seasons (1978-80). Jersey #14 retired by the Cardinals organization.

Boyer was a darn good third baseman, both on defense and at the plate. Other than Eddie Mathews and a handful of lesser lights, 3B hadn't seen a lot of big hitters across history. Boyer changed that a bit, as did contemporaries Brooks Robinson and Ron Santo and, a bit later, Mike Schmidt. Robinson and Santo are probably part of Boyer's problem – good as he was, he had the misfortune to play at the same time as some of the very few obviously better than he (think Tim Raines and Rickey Henderson). And, a sad story that has happened to many others, injuries pushed him off a cliff soon after his peak seasons and he never got to enjoy the long, graceful waltz to age 40-or-so that would have let him build up bigger career stats and grab more voters' eyes, which left him with "good, not great" numbers. Now, I do like to see greater hitting seasons than Boyer produced, but position matters, and being one of the better third baseman was a strong accomplishment even if Boyer was third-best at the time; that's an inconvenience of timing. Add in his defensive prowess, as recognized by a bunch of Gold Gloves, and cutting him some slack for the position he played, Boyer had an impressively good peak that lasted a long time. This man would look good on a plaque.

Chipmaker's vote: yes.

4. Rocky Colavito
Playing career: 14 seasons; Cleveland Indians (1955-59, '65-67), Detroit Tigers (1960-63), Kansas City Athletics (1964), Chicago White Sox (1967), Los Angeles Dodgers (1968), New York Yankees (1968).
Standout season(s): 1958 (.303/.405/.620, 41 HR, 113 RBI, 181 adjOPS), 1961 (.290/.402/.580, 45 HR, 140 RBI, 129 runs, 113 walks, 157 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: 374 HR (15th when he retired, now 60th).
Major honors and statistical crowns: six All-Star selections, slugging once, total bases twice, home runs once, RBI once.
Primary position: outfield.
BBWAA Hall voting: two ballots, peaking at 2 votes (let's not even bother with percentage).
2003 VC voting: 8.6%.
2005 VC voting: 5.0%.

Baseball bonus points: hit four home runs in one game in 1959.

Colavito was a good-slugging outfielder, and when he got traded away from the Indians, pretty much everyone hated the deal, including Colavito. The city of Cleveland loves the guy to this day. But power-hitting outfielders abound throughout baseball history, and there have been plenty, before and since, who did more than The Rock did. The Hall has to consider what was and not what-might-have-been, and Colavito falls short.

Chipmaker's vote: no.

5. Curt Flood
Playing career: 15 seasons; Cincinnati Reds (1956-57 cups of coffee), St. Louis Cardinals (1958-69), Washington Senators (1971).
Standout season(s): 1967 (.335/.378/.414, 172 hits, 128 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: 1861 hits.
Major honors and statistical crowns: three All-Star selections, seven NL Gold Gloves at outfield (1963-69), hits once, two seasons of 200+ hits. Member of the 1964 and 1967 World Series champion and the 1968 NL champion teams.
Primary position: center field.
BBWAA Hall voting: 15 ballots, peaking at 15.11% (on his final ballot).
2003 VC voting: 12.3%.
2005 VC voting: 12.5%.

Flood was never a big hitter, and similar to other players, runs up against the "his contemporaries were better" argument. No matter how good his glove, there were equals on the field of play at the same time – Willie Mays in particular – who could match his D and crush him at the plate. Defense doesn't get an outfielder into the Hall unless he far and away beats out everyone else of his era; it's rare. Flood was good, but not that good.

That's not why Flood's name keeps coming up, anyway. Flood rejected a trade to the Phillies after the 1969 season and, in doing so, challenged baseball's reserve clause, a short bit of language in the basic player contract (which had been around since the 19th century) that, as interpreted by the owners, bound a player to his team until the team was willing to let him go. Flood fought that, and Marvin Miller and the MLBPA were glad to have him do it. The case ultimately reached the U.S. Supreme Court, and Flood lost. He had sat out the entire 1970 season while the case carried on in the courts, and his mercifully brief comeback in 1971 was feeble.

As a player, he was good but not great, and that's not what the Hall looks for.

As an individual, a man, he was amazing, willing to end his career (and basically did) to maintain his personal integrity. Remember, professional sports are one of the few places where human beings can be bought and sold; Flood didn't want to endure that without some measure of personal input, so he didn't. But I'm not at all certain that this sort of effort (which helped pave part of the road to free agency, but didn't do it by itself) is what the Hall is looking for, either. A major award, preferably sponsored by the MLBPA, named for Flood, would be a better honor for his memory.

Flood is on the player ballot, and as a player he's not Hall-class. And I don't think his career, combined with his rather landmark legal effort, gets him there either.

Chipmaker's vote: no (but you fought the good fight, Curt, and you'll always be remembered for that; few players command that sort of lasting fame).

6. Joe Gordon
Playing career: 11 seasons (with a two-year break for military service); New York Yankees (1938-43, '46), Cleveland Indians (1947-50).
Standout season(s): 1942 (.322/.409/.491, 173 hits, 103 RBI, 155 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: 253 HR (hit 246 while playing second baseman, the positional record until Joe Morgan surpassed him; now 4th among 2Bmen).
Major honors and statistical crowns: 1942 AL MVP, nine All-Star selections, games played in 1940-41. Member of five World Series champion teams (1938-41, '43, '48) and one other AL champion (1942).
Primary position: second base.
BBWAA Hall voting: 12 ballots, peaking at 28.53%.
2003 VC voting: 23.5%
2005 VC voting: 17.5%.

Baseball bonus points: was a manager for five seasons, running the Indians, Detroit Tigers, Kansas City Athletics, and the original (1969) Kansas City Royals. Famously helped the intergration of baseball by quickly befriending Larry Doby, the first black player in the American League, in 1947.

Gordon wasn't a huge, outfield/firstbase type bat, but he set the standard for second basemen. Very good hitter, excellent defense, got face time on champion teams, and if there had been a Rookie Of The Year Award in 1938 he'd probably have won it. About the only criticism here is the short career (not even discounting the time served in the military; many others from all walks made that sacrifice). However, it was a short, brilliant career. I'm good with that.

Chipmaker's vote: yes.

7. Gil Hodges
Playing career: 18 seasons; Brooklyn/Los Angeles Dodgers (1943, '47-61), New York Mets (1962-63).
Standout season(s): 1954 (.304/.373/.579, 42 HR, 130 RBI, 142 adjOPS).
Career stat highlight: 370 HR (11th when he retired, now 61st).
Major honors and statistical crowns: eight All-Star selections, three NL Gold Gloves at first base (1957-59), games played twice. Member of two World Series champion teams (1955, 1959) and five other NL champions (1947, '49, '52-53, '56).
Primary position: first base.
BBWAA Hall voting: 15 ballots, peaking at 63.37% (on his final ballot).
2003 VC voting: 61.7% (highest return).
2005 VC voting: 65.0% (tied for highest return).

Baseball bonus points: was a manager for nine seasons with the Washington Senators and New York Mets, leading the 1969 Amazin's to the World Series championship. Hit four homers in one game in 1950 (Retrosheet.org doesn't yet go that far back). Jersey #14 retired by the Mets.

Hodges always comes up in these debates, for a few reasons – he was really good, he got a lot of face time in the World Series, he brought home the first (and considered wildly improbable) Mets championship, and he came agonizingly close to election through the BBWAA. Plus, the VC has treated him nicely the first two go-arounds. Hodges brings a big ball of baseball wax to the table.

But he was never really great. Never led the league in any positive hitting category; often among the leaders but never #1, no season where he sat down everyone else. Had four straight seasons with an adjusted OPS between 138 and 143 (his peak); that's pretty much my floor for Hall-class performance, and playing a historically power-heavy position (1B) should demand a bit more that wasn't there. If Hodges hadn't played for some highly storied Dodgers teams (and he did make strong contributions to them), he wouldn't be half so popular a candidate. It is inescapable that someone has to be The Best Player Not In The Hall, and to me Hodges fits that role perfectly (as soon as Santo gets elected, anyway). I expect he will get a plaque someday, but it doesn't bother me that he doesn't have one yet nor would it bother me if he never did get one.

Chipmaker's vote: no.