Over-Weighted

As sport fans, we’re a bit obsessed with labeling which athletes should be called “The Greatest.” I assume it’s an obsession that goes back to the beginning of time. It’s not a singular activity for sport fans, but we’re probably the most passionate debaters. It often bothers me, and this probably says more about me than anything else, that there’s never been an agreed upon criteria. Not that there is in most other avenues of life, but we have so many statistics and recorded historical events to reference. It’s pretty easy to find out how many rebounds player X had, but not so easy to find out how many objections your favorite lawyer had sustained.

When it comes to the most popular three American sports, Michael Jordan is the most widely accepted answer for the Greatest of All-Time, or the G.O.A.T. And I don’t think that’s an untrue statement. It took me longer to get there than most people I knew growing up. Like most fans, the years I cared the most came during junior high and high school. For most of those years, I was a devoted member in the Church of Magic Johnson. I first realized the err of my ways during Jordan’s first retirement. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all. So I’m not here to say that Jordan is overrated. But I do believe his six titles are over-weighted.

Six Championships is an amazingly impressive accomplishment, no matter the sport. There’s no debate here. A good or very good player can get lucky and win one, see: Orel Hershiser. Some great ones have played illustrious careers, and never even really sniff one, see: Barry Sanders. Being the main or one of the main, contributors to six titles is remarkable. The guys deserve to be in these kinds of conversations. Sorry, Steve Kerr.

But you also won’t win that many without some level of luck. There are all kinds of different situations, beyond a single player’s control, that have to break just right for a player to be a part of dynasty. For starters, you need the right coach, the right teammates, and the right opponents. Michael Jordan hit the jackpot with his coach, Phil Jackson. Jackson, who for so long was viewed as the lucky one, the coach who just happens to only coach great players, and there’s some truth to that. He needed a little bit of luck too, but eleven rings aren’t an accident.  Having Scottie Pippen play Robin to Jordan’s Bat-Man was another stroke of luck. Pippen, the 5^th pick in the 1987 draft by the Seattle Supersonics, out of the tiny University of Central Arkansas. Seattle had established players in the same positions that Pippen could play (Dale Ellis, Tom Chambers and Xavier McDaniel) so they worked out a trade with Chicago for a center they could have drafted, Olden Polynice and some other draft picks were swapped. Just your standard draft day deal.

So that was a little bit of luck and some smart’s on the part of the Bulls. I happen to think, that Jordan was luckiest when it came to his opponents. Jordan’s Bulls had some legendary battles with the Isaiah Thomas’s Detroit Pistons in the late 80’s. Three years in a row, the Piston’s knocked the Bulls out of the playoffs. They went on to win the NBA title the last two years. Then what happened? Thomas began to breakdown, playing in only 48 of 82 games that year. From winning his last title at 29 years of age, he was out of the league at 32.

Jordan gets his first title in 1991. Defeating the previously mentioned, one time G.O.A.T, Magic Johnson. No luck there, right? Defeating a 5-Time champion, who had one two of the last four titles? Well, not exactly. The Lakers were lead by first year coach, Mike Dunleavy, who replaced Hall of Famer Pat Riley who had stepped down after winning Coach of the Year in 1990 amid rumors of anger issues. Dunleavy is still a household name, who went on to coach 17 seasons. But he’s never been a very successful coach, and after all of those years, he is more than a 100 games under .500. And Dunleavy only won three more playoff series after 1991. The Lakers also suffered significant injuries to James Worthy and Byron Scott. That’s not to say, had they stayed healthy, that the Lakers would have beaten the Bulls. The finals appeared to be the first of possibly multiple NBA Final match-ups, between two goliaths, ended up as a one-time event. Magic Johnson, tragically, retired after the ’91 season after being diagnosed with HIV.

Then in 1992, the Bulls met up with the Portland Trailblazers in the Finals. Portland was a formidable foe, with playoff experience, and the second best shooting guard in the game in Clyde Drexler. However, it again appeared that the foundation was in place for the Bulls to perhaps have a rival in the Western Conference. But Drexler got hurt, and they soon broke up the team. So instead, the Bulls met up with the Phoenix Suns, led by MVP Charles Barkley. The Bulls won their third straight title.

And then…and then Michael Jordan retired. By this time, there’s not much question as to who the G.O.A.T is. Jordan retired with three titles, the NBA record career scoring average of 32 points per game, three MVP awards, and seven scoring titles. He was also just 29 years old.

Jordan only missed a year and a half before his famous return. Still not yet back in basketball shape, the Bulls were knocked out of the playoffs by the Orlando Magic. And everything seemed to point to a budding dynasty for the Magic. They had an unstoppable force in Shaquille O’Neal, who was only 22, and a guard being compared to both Michael Jordan and Magic Johnson, in Anfernee Hardaway, who was just 23. Orlando lost to the Rockets in the Finals, their second consecutive title.

1995-96 was Jordan’s first full year back, and the Bulls were historically great. Winning a record 72 games, and only losing one game on their way to the title. But the budding dynasty in Orlando wasn’t to be. Shaq left for LA after the ’96 season.

The Bulls went on to win the next two titles as well, before Jordan walked away again. In both of those series, they defeated the Utah Jazz. The league had suddenly aged. The mid early to mid-90’s marked an era of young, uber-talented players who never figured it out.  Hardaway, Shaq, Allen Iverson, Stephon Marbury, Antoine Walker, Rasheed Wallace, Jerry Stackhouse, Glenn Robinson, Chris Webber, Juwan Howard, JR Rider, Jamal Mashburn, Nick Van Exel, Kenny Anderson and Derrick Coleman were the post children for careers that could have been so much better. Egos blew up multiple nucleuses’, like the Mavericks and Magic. What does that have to do with Michael Jordan? Maybe nothing. Maybe more. Maybe the style of play from this new generation was so influenced by Jordan, that they all tried so hard to score 30 points a game and get their shoe deals, and so the game suffered. So instead of a decade of great teams, only three different franchises won titles between 1989 and 1998. While five franchises won titles in the next 10 years.

But part of being great, is taking advantage of the breaks you get. Maybe Jordan was so great, that he couldn’t have a single nemesis during his prime. Not the way Magic had Bird, or Russell had Wilt, or Wilt and Kareem.  Perhaps his rival natural rival, turned out to be the saddest turn of luck in all of Jordan’s career. A contemporary, drafted by an iconic franchise who tragically died after a drug overdose. Did Jordan miss out on his greatest challenge, the night Len Bias died? Of course, this has nothing to do with Jordan’s place in history. Before Bias, and since, there have been plenty of highly regarded college players who never realized their supposed potential.

Star Trek Into Greatness

I grew up loyal to the Star Wars franchise. Somehow, I also determined that was pretty much all the Sci-fi wasn’t for me. And Star Trek? It just looked weird. What was up with those ridiculous shirts everyone wore? Hans Solo didn’t wear some weird uniform.

In fact, and this is embarrassing, I was so anti-Trek that it has, potentially, had a negative impact on my bank account. A few years ago, a couple friends and I went to Austin to audition for a VH1 show, “The World Series of Pop Culture.” The three of us are all pretty well versed in movies, television and music. We, also, each have our areas of strength and some weaknesses. Turns out, Star Trek was my Achilles. The first question was: “Who played Khan?”

Now, somehow, I know ridiculous amounts (sometimes embarrassing) of useless movie trivia. Often about movies I haven’t seen.  But I had refused entry, to any Trek knowledge, into my brain. So I missed that question. Did it cost us a chance at making it to the next round, and ultimately from appearing (and winning) the $250,000? Well, it just may have. Based on how often I hear about it, my illogical gap in knowledge probably cost us each $83,333.33 (before taxes).

For a midget with glasses who collected baseball cards, Star Wars, GI Joe and Transformers figures, somehow I never found my way to comic books. I watched , and loved Superman in the 80’s. Soaked up Batman in the 90’s, but that was pretty much it. In 2005, I was sure this new Batman was going to be silly. I was annoyed that Hollywood was just rehashing old movies, and by old I mean, not very old at all. But I learned that this was the right time. The story telling was darker, more serious and very light on the cheese. The same cheese I loved as a kid, but I no longer wanted it draped all over my movies. The character development was fantastic, and the bad guy was more in the grey. Since being a kid, I learned that there wasn't as much good and evil, that life wasn’t that black and white. It’s mostly shades of grey. Batman Begins was all about the grey. My hopes and expectations for these reboots completely changed. Then in 2008, Jon Favreau and Robert Downey Jr gave the world Iron Man, and my eyes were wide open. Although it was so different from Batman, what it lacked in darkness, it made up with charm.

So when 2009 came around, and JJ Abrams gave us Star Trek, I was ready. I saw the movie and loved the movie. I was, and continue to be, completely oblivious to every reference to the originals. And that’s fine with me. Although, I do plan to someday go back and watch the previous 10 movies. I was eagerly awaiting Star Trek Into Darkness. I was ready for it as soon as I finished the 2009 incarnation.

This morning I heard a local morning DJ say that he considered staying and watching the movie again, after he saw it last night. He was absolutely right. I’m ready to watch it again. I’m looking forward to the day I buy the Blu-ray, and I’m already excited to see the third installment, which is scheduled for a 2016 release.

Star Trek Into Darkness is the perfect summer blockbuster and JJ Abrams is, without question, this generations Steven Speilberg. It’s big and bold. The sound engulfs you, the visuals are stunning. And the special effects are so perfect, and so realistic, that you only notice the effects because you know there’s no aircraft like that. Well, not on this planet. Yet. Chris Pine has every ounce of charisma that Harrison Ford’s Hans Solo had. Abrams was recently given the keys to reboot Star Wars, which I rolled my eyes at to begin with. Now I’m just annoyed that he can’t use Pine. Every role is so well casted, I really hope they put together a run of four or five. I completely trust that Abrams could make each subsequent movie the highlight of each summer.

But, I don’t want to raise anyone’s expectations too high. See it. See it soon. 

Give Ya Some Mo

I don’t know that it’s a topic that been debated often. I think, if you ask a group of sport fans, most will vote for Michael Jordan.  But somehow, while mowing last night, it occurred to me that Jordan isn’t the correct answer. Alright, the question is this: when considering dominance, durability and duration; who has had the best career in team sports. Sounds pretty specific, right? But the question came as I was thinking about this one players’ career. It’s been so great, for so long and without no drop in production.

Enough beating around the bush; Mariano Rivera has had the most impressive career in the history of team sports. Yes, I am completely serious. He’s had one bad year, and that was his rookie season when he was primarily a starting pitcher. In the 17 seasons since, he has an era of a miniscule 2.02. He’s completed 10 seasons with an era under 2. That’s not counting this year, where his era is once again under 2. And he’s 43 years old.

In his worst season, he had an era of 3.15. That bloated era can all be traced to a four game stretch in April where he gave up 9 runs in 2 and 2/3 innings. Take that stretch out, and his era for the rest of the season was 2.10. And that’s what makes his career so great. He had one rough stretch, that lasted just four games.

Mo’s post season performance is further evidence of his greatness. In most cases, the public makes assumptions about an athlete’s clutchness, or lack thereof, based on their first few post season appearances.  Derek Jeter, for example, has always been known as a “clutch” performer. Due in large part to his first post season appearance, where he hit .361. But his career post season average is .308 while his regular season career average sits at .313. My point is, the sample size is so small when we make these declarations about who is clutch and who isn’t. And when given a larger sample size, most players perform like they usually do.

There are always outliers, and Mariano Rivera is almost always an outlier to every rule. Rivera has appeared in 96 post season games and pitched 141 innings, which is roughly two regular seasons worth. His post season era is a RIDONCULOUS 0.70. Your friends wouldn’t believe you if you said you put up numbers like that in ’87 while playing RBI Baseball.

Rivera holds the record for most career saves, with 623, 22 more than Trevor Hoffman. Hoffman was a dominant closer in the National League for most of Mo’s career. Hoffman had five seasons with an ERA over 3.00.

So why do I say that Rivera has had the most impressive career in the history of sports? It’s the overall consistency. Michael Jordan, was obviously amazing from the first time he stepped on an NBA court. He was also remarkably durable, with only one major injury in his second season. While Rivera had one in 2012. But, for me, the difference is that Jordan stepped away from the game twice. And while he was a great 39 year old in 2003, he wasn’t one of the best in the game.  Jordan’s three point percentage fluctuated from sub 20% to 50% and back to the low 20s. Maybe that’s being picky, but Rivera has been amazingly consistent across the board. Since turning 35, Rivera has a 1.88 era and a 92% save rate. There simply hasn’t been a drop off of any kind.

In his role, he has been the best in the game for 18 years.

Peyton Manning was the only other player, aside from Jordan, that I considered.

Some Mo Did You Know facts:

He has more career strikeouts than: Carl Pavano, Orlando Hernandez, Gil Meche, and Joaquin Andujar.

He has more career wins than: Len Barker, Mark Clark, Roger Craig, and Mike Bielecki.

Only four players have hit more than one home run off of him (no one has hit more than two) they are: Evan Longoria, Edgar Martinez, Rafael Palmeiro and Aubrey Huff.

Of the 66 career home runs he has given up, only 11 came when the Yankees had the lead.

Manny Ramirez has the most career at bats against Mo. He hit .234.

Goose Gossage and Rollie Fingers have 651 career saves, combined. 

Caller

For the most part, Facebook and Twitter have pretty much killed my blog. Topics that used to turn into 1,000 words are now covered in less than 140 characters.  But yesterday I made a comment on a friends’ post, a one liner that I now feel deserves a little more attention. Deserves is a little heavy, but hey, I just wanted to ramble on, and thought I’d do it here, rather than a few dozen comments on his wall.

You better sit down for this. Oh, you are? Well, I hope no one knocks on your stall door. I’ve been listening to the radio a little bit more, mostly sports talk, but when the Kyd is in the car, we have to tune into the local top 40 station. And I am dying to know: why do people still call in to request a song?

Seriously, it makes zero sense to me. It’s 2013. There’s no logical reason for this behavior. Latest reports say that over 160 million American’s have internet access, a third of the population. I’m not sure if that includes toddlers and babies, so we’ll assume it does.  I’m also willing to bet that the percentage is higher in homes with a radio and a telephone. If you have the internet, you can listen to any song you have ever heard in just a matter of seconds. So why take the time to call in to some radio show, be put on hold (if you even get through) then request a song that they play every 12 minutes anyway?

Based on my research, which consists of being in the car with my daughter when these people call in, I feel it’s safe to say that the average requester is a 14.32 year old girl from a middle class family. So not only is she likely to have internet access, she also has an iPod and there’s a very good chance she also has a smart phone of some kind. She’s not at work, unless she’s babysitting. In which case, she may not have permission to use the computer, but she probably doesn’t have permission to ignore the kids for 12 minutes while she attempts to call in and request a song.

The only conclusion I can draw is, the 14 year old girl is calling to request a song just to hear her voice on the radio for 22 seconds. The good: they should only have 14 minutes and 38 seconds left of “fame.” The bad: she still has 14 minutes and 38 seconds left of “fame.” The real truth here: teenage girls talk too much. 

Pay That Man His Money

There’s a line from Rounders that I love to quote, “I feel like Buckner walking back into Shea.” Mike drops this gem as he returns to the scene of his greatest defeat, and he’s playing for his life as he’s $25k in debt and owes most of it to the wrong kind of people. Including his nemesis, who took Mike’s bankroll a few months back and killed his dream of entering the World Series of Poker.

It’s a killer line, and life (luckily) doesn’t present too many opportunities for me to properly use it. Headed to the dentist, or the DMV, are the most likely scenarios for me. And then yesterday, the Kyd and I were invited to join some friends for a trip to the local mall, Oak Park Mall, where I worked at Lenscrafters for seven years. Since leaving in 2005, I’ve been back twice. Once, just a few weeks later, I went to say hi to some friends that still worked there, and then a year later to run an errand. So I haven’t been back in over five years.

“Just walking in here makes me queasy. The Brick walls. The ----ing mopes at the tables. The musty smell. I feel like Buckner walking back into Shea/”

All true. It looks almost the exact same, even some familiar faces at the pizza joint. It’s not all bad memories. In those seven years, I made some great friends. But we always joked that leaving the mall felt a lot like being paroled. So while I love the Rounders’ line, it’s not completely accurate. I felt more like Lohan walking into a parole hearing.

The trip down memory lane ended pretty fast. It was quickly replaced by a feeling that’s becoming more common these days. I felt old. It’s not uncommon for me to be around the Kyd and her friends at either a volleyball game or a school event, and I never really feel old there. In fact, it usually feels like it wasn’t that long ago that I was her age. It’s a totally different vibe at the mall. It looks like a scene out of “The Walking Dead” with texting teens coming from every direction. The groans even made them sound like zombies, and they shuffle their feet in the same manor. That’s when it hit me. I’m old. Even though I remember being that age, and spending way too much time at the mall, I felt more like the guy shouting “get off my lawn!” than I felt like one of them.

The feeling was compounded by the fact that it wasn’t so long ago that I spend the majority of my week among them. So much had remained the same, but the changes are pretty noticeable. Mainly, and sadly, it’s fashion. Girls always look older.  A fact that used to make me a little nervous when I was younger, but now that there’s a girl that I’m responsible for, it’s both terrifying and I suddenly want to go all Michonne on every teenage boy. When I was there, everyone wore jeans. Now the girls are wearing the same tights and boots that their mothers wear, while the doofi (I think that’s the plural for doofus) have jeans hanging off their backside (I may have been somewhat guilty of that many moons ago, get it?), ridiculous haircuts with as much hairspray as my sister used in the 80’s complete with a smug look that really needs to be slapped off of them. I guess that urge isn’t all that new either, as I was an uncle before I could drive, and as a result I’ve always had an overly portative streak in me. But there’s something different about the latest iteration of teens. And they make me feel old, which brings up the first line from Rounders:

“Listen, here’s the thing. If you can’t spot the sucker in the first half hour at the table, then you ARE the sucker.”

I looked, and I didn’t see the old guy in the mall. So I was the old guy. Blech. 

Cheating

This is going to be a long post. You’ve been warned.

I’ve long had a beef with Lance Armstrong, but it had nothing to do with what he did or didn’t do to prepare for competition. I dislike bullies, he happens to have a black belt in bullying. This isn’t about Lance. It isn’t about Barry Bonds or Mark McGwire and it isn’t about records or any Hall of Fame. This is about cheating. Or what we call cheating. Personally, and this is weird, what these guys have done, I don’t really consider it to be cheating. Technically, sure, they cheated. So first, let’s look at the definition. Pardon me for going all Bill Clinton here.

Cheat:  Verb- Act dishonestly or unfairly in order to gain an advantage.

Yes, athletes taking steroids are doing so to gain an advantage. But every athlete is looking for an advantage. Somehow we’ve arbitrarily drawn a line so certain drugs or treatments are considered an unfair advantage.  I don’t know all the rules, in all the sports, about which medications or treatments are allowed and which aren’t, but I know some. I know that a baseball player with a sore shoulder can get cortisone shot for the pain. I’m also not a chemist, but I can Google with the best of ‘em. Cortisone is a steroid hormone. The common use of cortisone is to provide short-term pain relief. So you know, it allows a player to feel better, so they can perform better. That’s okay. There are side-effects, as with any medication, and none of them are all that appealing; anxiety, depression, cataracts, and glaucoma. Those are only some of the side-effects. Just those that I don’t need a medical dictionary to talk about.

A pitcher can have his elbow blow up (not the correct medical term) and have surgery to repair the damage. He can then come back with a stronger elbow than he had before. Some have even come back with a more effective arsenal. No one considers any of this cheating, but the result gives the athlete an advantage. Why, because it’s not against the rules? Well if an NFL player gets called for holding, he broke a rule, but no one will call that guy a cheater. If we’re going to say that, technically, Armstrong is a cheater, isn’t every offensive lineman also a cheater?

Gaining an advantage over the competition is what separates athletes. The best athletes are the ones who push themselves the hardest. They’re the ones that practice with the most intensity. They find a way to gain an advantage over the competition. The “level playing field,” is always brought up in these conversations about cheating. I call BS. The level playing field is the field of play for each sport, and the equipment the competitors are allowed to use. As long as none of that is tampered with, you have a level playing field.

As someone who strongly believes that individuals should have equal rights, I don’t, for a second, believe we’re all equal or created equal. Some of us are born shorter (ahem) some of us stronger. Some of us are born smarter; some of us are born with challenges. We’re not really “equal” in the truest sense of the word. And neither are athletes. What an athlete does in order to prepare for competition shouldn’t be our concern.

Fans love to discuss where a great player ranks among the all-time greats. When we have those debates, the ones that our wives roll their eyes at, we totally ignore the fact that there’s no “even playing field” between eras. Adrian Peterson just had one of the best statistical seasons of any running back in NFL history. He did this, not even a year after tearing his ACL and MCL. 20 years ago, an injury that like would have likely ended his career. Yet, thanks to medical advances, he came back and performed better than he ever has. So we marvel at this, as we should, but had he used certain drugs, we’d call him a cheater and discard his entire season, and probably his entire career. It just makes no sense.

What they put in their bodies can absolutely be a detriment to their long-term health. And that’s worth discussing, both for their benefit and to educate anyone else considering using the same tactics. But the general public really doesn’t care about their health. We love the violence of football. We want these people to play through pain that we’d never consider. And we want them to be stronger,  run faster, jump higher, hit a ball further, play through pain we can’t imagine and believe it all happened because ate their Wheaties.

I was telling my wife about my idea for this post last night, and she asked if I have a problem with authority. I do, I absolutely do. Not that I’m some rebel, but hypocrisy drives me batty. It doesn’t mean that I think Bonds and Armstrong are righteous, heroic guys. They’re both jerks. But they’re both, in my opinion, the best to ever play their sports. They broke rules, even some laws. Rules and laws that I feel are completely ridiculous. I’m much more upset by the athletes who are arrested for assaulting their significant others or driving while intoxicated. Basically, doing anything that harms someone else or puts the lives of others at risk is worth our attention.

The line that we’ve drawn in the sand is more of a wall, and it’s time to tear down that wall.

Hall of Flame

Today’s the big day, where the Baseball Writers of America get their moment to grandstand and play morality police, as they've promised us they would for the past 10 years. Today their Hall of Fame votes are made public, and we’ll see them keep Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, the PED poster boys, out of the Hall of Fame. Sure, they’ll also continue to keep Rafael Palmeiro, Jeff Bagwell, and Mark McGwire out, as they have the past couple of years.  And Mike Piazza is a coin flip at this point, but Bonds and Clemens are the biggest fish in this pond. Perhaps the greatest hitter and greatest pitcher of all-time, who both also happen to be all-time jerks.

The voters, and many fans, will hide behind a joke called the “character clause.” A clause which allows voters to take someone’s character into account when deciding if their career warrants enshrinement in a museum that was designed to celebrate the best in the history of the game. But these players, “allegedly” used some drugs that the powers that be deemed illegal. Even though a doctor could prescribe them to a patient, if they so choose. Both Bonds and Clemens had their day in court, and neither was convicted of perjury, nor where they caught by Major League Baseball using anything illegal (at a time when baseball actually had rules stating it was illegal).

The truth is, this isn't about keeping the sport clean. Baseball has a long history of players taking amphetamines or caffeine pills, for a competitive edge. Cheating has long been celebrated in baseball, and made some players endearing to fans. Gaylord Perry, a Hall of Famer, even wrote a book entitled “Me and the Spitter.” So the writers are actually telling us that they’ll accept cheating, just degrees of cheating. I wonder if their wives know that.

What bothers me most isn't even the idea of voting for guys who put up legitimate number. Although there’s actually no way of knowing who did and didn't  if Ben Johnson was taking steroids in 1984, why is it safe to assume that no one in baseball was? No, what aggravates me the most is the public and media singling out baseball and, oddly enough, cycling. If a NFL player gets caught, sure they get suspended for four games. That’s a healthy punishment, as its 25% of the season, but that’s the end of it. There’s no backlash. No one is asking for their awards to be stripped or their numbers to be marked with a Scarlet asterisk. Oh sure, after Shawne Merriman was caught, the NFL ended up passing a rule that prevents a player who fails a test, from making the Pro-Bowl in THAT SEASON. Meanwhile, since the “Steroid Era” began in baseball we've seen the following:

·         Five running backs have topped 2,000 yards in a single season, only two before.

·         Five quarterbacks have thrown for more than 5,000 yards in a single season, and it only happened once before.

·         13 receivers have tallied more than 1,600 yards in a season, only two did it before.

·         Nine defenders have recorded 18.5 or more sacks in a season, and only seven did so before the mid 90’s.

Then there’s the fact that no one seems to even consider that NBA players may also take these drugs, but most will agree that the game is played by bigger, stronger and faster players. In a league where there are far fewer roster spots and the average NBA player earns over $5 million a season, compared to $3.4 in baseball and $1.9 in the NFL.

But no one cares about the other sports, simply because the individual statistics aren’t as valued as they are in baseball. The average fan might know who holds the record for most rushing yards in a season or assists in a career, but they don’t know what those numbers are. Whereas, even casual fans know what 61 represents in baseball. Baseball fans know who the last player to hit .400 was, or how many no hitters Nolan Ryan threw, or how many hits Pete Rose racked up.

It all drives me nuts, but nothing more than the “character clause.” Babe Ruth was known to be a womanizer and heavy drinker. Ty Cobb was a world renowned racist. Countless baseball players cheated on their wives. Eddie Murray was charged by the SEC with insider trading. “Character clause,” are you kidding me? If we’re going to consider character, then shut the door to the Hall of Fame and open up a Character Hall of Fame. I can promise you this much, if you selected from the general population, the Character Hall of Fame would have less members than Skull and Bones.

Lastly, those writers who want to ignore the accomplishments of the players they believe cheated, I wonder if they discount the income they received in covering those same accomplishments. Mike Lupica wrote a best-selling book, celebrating the home run chase between Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire. I haven’t yet received an offer to refund my $20, since his book was aided by steroids. Now he gets to double dip, and earn a nice check while he vilifies the same players that he made money celebrating. All under the umbrella of a “character clause,” this has to be a joke, right?