There were times in the 1990s when I wondered, along with many baseball writers, if Roberto Alomar was the best all-around second baseman in history. It was a solid, worthy argument, and Alomar backed it up with both performance and style.
Just the fact that Alomar was mentioned in that company — along with Joe Morgan, Rogers Hornsby, Charlie Gehringer and others — solidified his Hall of Fame status for me. It was something you felt at the time, while he playing, not in retrospect. Nothing could tarnish Alomar’s status, including the notorious spitting incident with umpire John Hirschbeck. Just the other day, Hirschbeck reiterated his forgiveness and said he’d be gravely disappointed if Alomar didn’t get in.
Alomar always struck people as a singular, innovative second baseman who literally invented ways to make the spectacular play. He was an unusually clever baserunner who mixed 210 home runs with an even .300 average for his 17-year career. He is perhaps best remembered for his epic homer in Game 4 of the 1992 ALCS at the Oakland Coliseum, stepping to the plate in difficult, late-afternoon light against Dennis Eckersley and belting a two-run, ninth-inning homer that sent the game into extra innings. Toronto won that game, and the series, and in its way, Alomar’s homer was just as memorable as Kirk Gibson’s 1988 World Series homer off Eckersley.
Hirschbeck’s approval should cinch the deal for everyone, including the insufferable voters who have decided they’ll make Alomar wait a year or two until they pull the trigger. (So the vote is all about them, in other words, instead of the player.) Alomar will be a first-ballot choice, and marking his name was definitely the highlight of my voting experience this month.
The Veterans Committee came through nicely with the election of umpire Doug Harvey, long revered for his distinguished National League career, and manager Whitey Herzog, mastermind of exceptional teams in Kansas City and St. Louis. But it’s apparent, once again, that the late Billy Martin ticked off too many people.
Martin was listed among managers who received “less than three votes,” and that’s a disgrace. This is a man who pulled off miracles in Oakland, Texas, Minnesota and Detroit, crafting strong and dangerous teams out of rubble. He never could sustain the winning climates he created, especially in New York, but anyone who faced those Yankees (or those A’s, or Twins, you name it) knew they were up against one of the sharpest strategists in baseball history.
Maybe next year? Probably not, with Billy. He just burned too hot. Now on to the other players who got my vote:
— Barry Larkin: He got lost in all the attention drawn by American League shortstops Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez, Cal Ripken and Nomar Garciaparra during his prime, but Larkin had it all: power, speed, excellent defense, an MVP award, 12-time All-Star, nine Silver Slugger awards and leadership. Can’t think of a single negative.
— Edgar Martinez: I don’t believe in the DH, one of the dumbest sports rules ever conceived, but it’s lame to deny its existence. It’s a significant part of the American League game and is certainly entitled to Hall of Fame representation. Martinez is the perfect choice to break that barrier. He was widely considered the best throughout his career, winning two batting titles (.343 and .356) and finishing at .312 lifetime.
n Don Mattingly: He won’t make it, and I’m well aware of that, but in the short time he excelled, Mattingly had that rare ability to stir the soul. His swing personified the uncoiling of a precise, well-conceived instrument, and he was revered by even the finest opposing hitters. His name must appear on the balloting somewhere.
n Jack Morris and Dave Parker: Maybe they don’t look worthy on the stat sheet, but they were main men. Asked to name one starter for a big game, or one batter to hit cleanup, you’d eliminate some big names, including Hall of Famers, in favor of these two.
n Close, but not quite: Bert Blyleven and Andre Dawson.
n No disrespect intended, but no: Harold Baines, Fred McGriff, Dale Murphy, Tim Raines, Lee Smith and Alan Trammell.
And Mark McGwire? Absolutely, without a second thought. You can’t just write off the entire steroid era as a cartoon. You can’t summarily dismiss the likes of Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Sammy Sosa or McGwire, the ones who truly made a difference and made people care.
(E-mail Bruce Jenkins at bjenkins(at)sfchronicle.com.)
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