Yesterday, Roberto Alomar was voted into the Baseball Hall of Fame. He’ll be the first Blue Jay enshrined in the Hall and probably the last for quite a while. Growing up, Alomar was one of my favourite players. His ALCS home run off Dennis Eckersley is one of my fondest memories of the early-90s Jays. Despite any number of shortcomings, I have no problem with the man. He really wanted into the Hall.
For all of those reasons and more, I should be happy that one of my childhood heroes is being recognized for his greatness — and that a player from the team I’ve followed since I learned what baseball is — is getting his well-deserved plaque, but I’m not.
It’s nice that Alomar is in, it really is.
I’m just having trouble getting worked up about a voting process that’s got no firm guidelines and voters who use their ballots to punish or reward people with little to no explanation. But it goes beyond that — even if there was reform to the Hall’s induction process, I’m not sure it would make any difference to me.
I disagree with the opinions of many members of the BBWAA on almost everything. Who they think should or shouldn’t have a plaque no longer means anything to me.
Yes, plaques are nice, but they’re not for me. A plaque in Cooperstown doesn’t hold nearly as much value to me as something like the following picture does: