Baseball's Hall of Fame

What's great about Hall of Fame balloting is that there isn't always rhyme or reason to it.  That means that the fan base at large, despite the proliferation of all sorts of metrics, will have weeks' worth of arguments of the relative merits of, say, Curt Schilling and Mike Mussina, both of whom deserve entry even though neither will muster sufficient votes. 

What's awful about Hall of Fame balloting is that there isn't always rhyme or reason to it.  That means that voters can summon whatever metrics they want to vote someone into the Hall of Fame.  Look, there are all sorts of metrics, but it shouldn't be controversial that Craig Biggio should get it -- he had a long and productive career and managed over 3,000 hits.  And, yet, he didn't get in on the first ballot.  Mega-stars like Randy Johnson and Pedro Martinez should get in, but somehow they won't be unanimous, even though by the end of their careers most, if not all, fans would have agreed that their careers were Hall worthy.  And perhaps they won't be unanimous because voters get only ten votes, which means that some will ration theirs and preserve them for the otherwise worthy, such as Alan Trammell, who is running out of chances, and Fred McGriff, a beacon and very productive player who did not take steroids during what's now known as the Steroids Era. 

The Hall will announce the results tomorrow, and then the discussions will ensue, as they always do.  Tim Raines (finally) should have a shot, as should John Smoltz, as should Biggio.  But others who are worthy will split their votes with yet others who are worthy (out of the presumption that the vote rationers will allocate a vote that should have gone to a second-tier worthy to a third-tier worthy, for whatever reason).  Jayson Stark makes an eloquent plea for about 14 former players, even though he could only vote for ten of them.

By tomorrow afternoon, we will know.  And then let the debates begin.