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On June 5, 2009, David Ortiz was hitting .187 with one home run and had struck out 48 times in 46 games. Just two seasons earlier, he had hit .332 with 35 home runs in helping lead the Boston Red Sox to their second World Series title in four seasons.

Ortiz got his eyes checked that day even though he said they weren't the reason for his season-long slump. There were predictions of his imminent release. Some maintained he was older than his actual age. Bill Simmons joked that Red Sox fans needed to mail some human growth hormone to Ortiz.

Instead, the Red Sox rolled the dice. General manager Theo Epstein and consultant Bill James concluded that such slumps were normal for a player of Ortiz's age. Ortiz hit .266 with 27 home runs the rest of that season. Since 2010, he has hit .298/.390/.562. The only hitters with a higher wOBA since then are Miguel Cabrera, Joey Votto, Jose Bautista and Ryan Braun.

On Tuesday night, Ortiz hit a three-home run off Matt Moore in the first inning, although Moore shut down the Sox after that in Tampa Bay's 5-3 victory. At age 37, Big Papi is still going strong, hitting .333/.370/.613. The guy who struck out in 21 percent of his plate appearances in 2009 and 24 percent in 2010 now strikes out less than 15 percent of the time and remains one of the most feared hitters in the game, not much different from his 2003-2007 peak, when he finished in the top five of the MVP voting five years in a row.

This post-2009 rebirth and hot start in 2013 has thrust Ortiz back into the spotlight: Is he the greatest designated hitter of all time? And how do his Hall of Fame chances stack up?

With apologies to Paul Molitor (more games in the field than at DH), Frank Thomas (best years came when he was playing first base), Jim Thome (ditto) and Harold Baines (great longevity), the greatest DH of all time is Edgar Martinez. Which I suppose some people would rank somewhere higher than greatest LOOGY of all time but below greatest utility infielder of all time.

Martinez and Ortiz were both originally signed by the Mariners and both had their breakout seasons at age 27 -- Martinez when he finally got a chance to play and Ortiz after getting released by the Twins and going to the Red Sox.

Here are their career numbers:

Martinez: .312/.418/.515, 309 HRs, 1,261 RBIs, 147 OPS+, .405 wOBA, 68.3 WAR
Ortiz: .285/.380/.549, 406 HRs, 1,346 RBIs, 138 OPS+, .392 wOBA, 40.2 WAR

That's Baseball-Reference WAR, by the way. FanGraphs has a similar difference. Why such a large split in career value? Some of that is simply career length; Martinez has about 900 more career plate appearances, so Ortiz will close the gap a bit -- but not all of it -- as he continues to play. A little bit of it is fielding -- B-R credits Edgar with plus-17 runs defensively from his days at third base and Papi at minus-13 runs. That's a 30-run difference, worth about three wins of those 28 wins. Martinez picks up a little more value in positional adjustments -- he played third base for a few years while Ortiz played first base.

But the big difference is simply that Martinez was the better hitter. Yes, Ortiz has more power, but Martinez was an on-base machine. He created runs while using up fewer outs than Ortiz, and that creates a lot of value. Martinez had 11 seasons with a .400-plus OBP, including three that led the American League and seven more that ranked in the top five. Ortiz has had only three -- including the partial season of 2012 -- and ranked in the top five only three times. On-base percentage is still king, and Baseball-Reference rates Martinez having eight seasons of 5.0 WAR or greater, Ortiz with three of 5.0 or greater.

Here's another way to look at it: Ortiz has created about 1,409 runs in his career while using up 4,970 outs; that's 7.6 runs per 27 outs. Martinez created 1,631 runs while using up 5,273 outs, or 8.3 runs per 27 outs.

Martinez was better, and it's not really a debate. I'm not arguing that just because I'm admittedly a huge Martinez fan; I'm arguing that because the numbers don't lie. And before you mention "BUT WHAT ABOUT CLUTCH! BIG PAPI IS THE CLUTCHIEST OF THE CLUTCH!" … well, Ortiz has hit .264/.376/.514 in "late and close" situations; Martinez hit .312/.449/.471. Ortiz is feared; Martinez was feared, just as respected by opposing pitchers as Ortiz is now.

Ortiz did fare better in MVP voting with those five top-five finishes; Martinez had only one. But perception of value is not the same thing as real value.

That said, Ortiz may end up being a better Hall of Fame candidate, depending on how the allegations of performance-enhancing drugs play out down the road. He'll have more home runs and RBIs, and Hall of Fame voters love those home runs and RBIs. The MVP voting results will help. The clutch hitting -- especially in the postseason -- will help define memories of him. He'll earn bonus points for being arguably the best player, or at least the face of the franchise, on two World Series winners. And, importantly, Ortiz was simply more famous than Martinez, one of the most famous players of the 2000s. Ortiz played for the Red Sox; Martinez for the Mariners. Ortiz is big and jovial and owns that big left-handed uppercut; Martinez was quiet, disciplined and overshadowed by Ken Griffey Jr., Randy Johnson and Alex Rodriguez.

Of course, like Martinez, Ortiz will face the DH bias, and that might be a tougher hurdle than the PED stain. Personally -- and, yes, again, I'm biased -- Martinez is a pretty clear-cut Hall of Famer. Many people don't think DHs should be in the Hall of Fame, but I don't have an issue there. Edgar's 10-year peak as one of the best hitters in the game is Cooperstown-worthy, and his career WAR justifies his inclusion.

Ortiz is a notch below, and even giving him credit for his postseason heroics I have trouble getting him into Hall of Fame territory. He'll have trouble cracking 50 career WAR, even with a couple more strong seasons, which would make him a weak Hall of Fame candidate by that measure. But if he pushes past 500 home runs and 1,600 RBIs, I can see Ortiz reaching Cooperstown before Martinez.

In Tim Hudson's major league debut, Tony Phillips was his second baseman, Olmedo Saenz played third base and Tim Raines played left field. Hudson doesn't seem like he's that old, but that was back in 1999 in a game at Qualcomm Stadium in San Diego, which means he has been doing this baseball thing for a bit of time now.

Hudson pitched five innings and struck out 11 Padres, leaving with a no-decision.

"He's got outstanding stuff," Oakland A's general manager Billy Beane said after that game. "He needs to learn the league, learn pitch selection and get better with experience. He's an athlete and has the opportunity to be an outstanding pitcher in this league for a long time."

Beane was right about that one.

He also went 1-for-1 at the plate with a walk. The man always could hit. He earned his first win five days later over the Los Angeles Dodgers, earning a beer shower from his teammates. "Who knows where Hudson goes from here? For now, he's a show worth seeing, a slender right-hander who can throw three pitches for strikes," wrote Gary Peterson in the Contra Costa Times.

Fourteen years later, Hudson is still going strong -- strong enough that there's an outside shot he's heading to the Hall of Fame. As Beane said on that June night so many years ago, Hudson is an athlete. He was a star two-way player at Auburn and that athleticism has helped him adapt through the years as his stuff has changed and his velocity has dropped. It has helped him to recover quickly from Tommy John surgery in 2008. It has helped to overcome his status as a short right-hander (he's listed at 6-foot-1, but that article written after his first start said he was 5-11, which he may reach in his spikes). It has helped him to remain a solid, underrated starter at the age of 37, a key reason for Atlanta's success in recent seasons.

Hudson beat the Nationals 8-1 on Tuesday night to earn his 200th career win and did so in style, taking a no-hitter into the fifth while pitching seven brilliant innings, doubling off the wall in left-center to start a two-run rally in the second and then hitting on opposite-field home run off Zach Duke -- and off Bryce Harper's glove -- in the fifth inning for his third career homer. That's a night worthy of another beer shower.

"It was a fun game," Hudson said. "Obviously, it's kind of surreal. No one expects to hit a home run."

For the Braves, it was their fifth victory in five games against the Nationals. For Hudson, it was one of the defining moments of his career, as he became the third active pitcher to reach 200 wins (joining Andy Pettitte and Roy Halladay) and the 110th pitcher reach 200.

As for that Hall of Fame thing, we can start here, with the highest winning percentages since 1901 for pitchers with 200 wins:

1. Whitey Ford (236-106, .690)
2. Pedro Martinez (219-100, .687)
3. Lefty Grove (300-141, .680)
4. Christy Mathewson (373-188, .665)
5. Roy Halladay (201-103, .661)
6. Roger Clemens (354-184, .658)
7. TIM HUDSON (200-105, .656)
8. Mordecai Brown (239-130, .648)
9. Randy Johnson (303-166, .646)
10. Pete Alexander (373-208, .642)

The next three guys are Mike Mussina, Jim Palmer and Andy Pettitte. OK, this is all pretty impressive company, and while winning percentage is obviously team-dependent to a certain extent and Hudson has played on two successful franchises in Oakland and Atlanta, it's certainly not insignificant. It's at least a starting point to put Hudson in a Hall of Fame discussion if he continues pitching well for another three or four years and gets into the 240-win range.

His career ERA of 3.43 may not blow you away, but remember that he pitched much of his career in the middle of the high-octane PED-era. His park- and league-adjusted ERA+ of 125 is tied with Palmer and John Smoltz at 20th among the 89 pitchers since 1901 to win 200 games. That's a better adjusted ERA than Juan Marichal, Bob Feller, Don Drysdale, Warren Spahn, Bert Blyleven, Tom Glavine, Gaylord Perry and Steve Carlton, to name a few big names.

The point: The guy can pitch. Sure, the ERA will eventually rise a few ticks and the winning percentage will likely drop a few points as he ages. Some would argue that Hudson has never been the best pitcher in his league, which is a fair statement. But a lot of Hall of Fame pitchers were never the best in their league and Hudson has been one of the best -- seven times in the top 10 in ERA, seven times in the top 10 in WAR (with a best of 7.5 in 2003, ranking third among AL pitchers), seven times in wins and six times in innings. His career WAR of 54.4 is 77th all-time.

He's not there yet, which is OK. That means hopefully we'll get to continue watching the guy with the great sinker for a few more years. Have a beer with your shower, Tim.

Does this surprise you? Over the past 10 seasons, Jimmy Rollins has been the 10th-best position player in baseball, at least according to FanGraphs and its wins above replacement metric.

I guess it surprises me, not that I haven't appreciated Rollins' broad base of skills -- speed, defense and good power for a middle infielder -- but I've never thought of him at quite that elite level, except maybe during his MVP season in 2007, and even then there was an ugly debate over whether he really deserved the award.

Anyway, upon seeing that ranking, my first thought was: You know, that's not a bad Hall of Fame argument: Jimmy Rollins was one of the top 10 players in the game for a decade, and that certainly smells like a Hall of Famer, if Hall of Famers smelled of something other than sweat, grass stains and chewing tobacco. I mean, if you're one of the very best players in the game for a long period of time -- and WAR is the best mechanism we have for determining that -- then that has to put him in the Hall of Fame discussion.

And again, with Rollins, that surprises me. I viewed him as a popular player, but overrated by the general population of baseball fans, in part because the stolen bases made him such a valuable fantasy player, and in part because the general population doesn't always pay a lot of attention to on-base percentage, a skill Rollins has failed to excel at in many seasons.

But the whole top-10 over 10 argument ... well, I soon realized, that's the Jack Morris argument: You know, Jack Morris won the most games in the '80s, and then suddenly I felt a little dumber. (By the way, Morris ranks seventh in FanGraphs WAR from 1980 to 1989 and 13th in Baseball-Reference WAR.)

The obvious problem with comparing a player to his peers over a certain period of years is players aren't being compared equally: Some get only some of their peak years in there, some get all of them and so on. Did you know Frank Viola is tied for the most wins from 1984 to 1993? Or that Jimmy Key is second in wins from 1985 to 1994?

Still, I thought I'd look at the best position players over 10-year periods, just to see what kind of company Rollins is keeping. I'll list the top 15 for both FanGraphs and Baseball-Reference WAR (although the two lists are pretty similar).

2003 to 2012
FanGraphs: Pujols, A. Rodriguez, Utley, Cabrera, Beltran, Beltre, Wright, Suzuki, Holliday, Rollins (44.3), Berkman, Jeter, C. Jones, Teixeira, Rolen.

Baseball-Reference: Pujols, Rodriguez, Utley, Beltre, Beltran, Teixeira, Cabrera, Suzuki, Jones, Wright, Mauer, Hunter, Berkman, Rollins (35.9), Holliday.

1993 to 2002
FanGraphs: Bonds, Bagwell, Piazza, Griffey Jr., Sosa, A. Rodriguez, Walker, Palmeiro, Biggio, Olerud, I. Rodriguez, Thome, C. Jones, Martinez, B. Williams.

Baseball-Reference: Bonds, Bagwell, Griffey, A. Rodriguez, Sosa, Piazza, Walker, Lofton, Biggio, I. Rodriguez, Thome, Williams, Palmeiro, Martinez, Olerud.

1983 to 1992
FanGraphs: Boggs, Henderson, Ripken, Raines, Sandberg, O. Smith, Trammell, Bonds, Whitaker, Murray, Gwynn, Puckett, Molitor, Strawberry, Van Slyke.

Baseball-Reference: Henderson, Ripken, Boggs, Sandberg, O. Smith, Raines, Trammell, Bonds, Whitaker, Gwynn, Butler, Puckett, Molitor, Murray, Strawberry.

1973 to 1982
FanGraphs: Schmidt, Morgan, Carew, Grich, Brett, Cey, Jackson, Simmons, Bench, Bell, Nettles, Foster, Tenace, Rose, Singleton.

Baseball-Reference: Schmidt, Morgan, Carew, Brett, Grich, Cey, Bell, Jackson, Bench, Tenace, Harrah, Carter, Nettles, Simmons, Cedeno.

1963 to 1972
FanGraphs: Aaron, Santo, Mays, Yastrzemski, Clemente, B. Robinson, F. Robinson, B. Williams, Killebrew, Allen, Torre, McCovey, Fregosi, Rose, Kaline.

Baseball-Reference: Aaron, Clemente, Mays, Santo, Yastrzemski, B. Williams, B. Robinson, Allen, F. Robinson, Rose, McCovey, Fregosi, Torre, Killebrew, Kaline.

So, you see a lot of Hall of Famers or future Hall of Famers, or some of the all-time stathead favorites, like Bobby Grich or Ron Cey or Tim Raines, or some underrated gems like Gene Tenace and Buddy Bell. Obviously, ranking in the top 10 or 15 certainly isn't an automatic road map to Cooperstown, and several of the above fell off the ballot after one year, although in a case like Lou Whitaker, that doesn't mean they didn't have a solid Hall of Fame case.

OK, back to Rollins. Look at the all positives he has going for his Hall of Fame résumé:

• Career length. He's already at 2,024 hits as he enters his age-34 season; 3,000 is probably out of reach (he'd have to average 154 hits through age 39), but he should end up well north of 2,500.
• Speed. He has 403 career steals and just 83 caught stealing. His career total of 61 baserunning runs ranks 16th since 1901, according to Baseball-Reference.
• Power at a premium defensive position: 421 doubles, 105 triples, 193 home runs. Since 1901, he's 13th in extra-base hits among players who played at least 75 percent of their games at shortstop or second base. (Eight of the 12 ahead of him are in the Hall of Fame, and the others are Jeff Kent, Derek Jeter, Miguel Tejada and Lou Whitaker. Five of the next seven are Hall of Famers as well.)
• Defense. Four Gold Gloves and pretty good advanced defensive metrics (plus-51 runs via Baseball-Reference).
• Durability. Nine seasons of 154-plus games. Durability is a skill.
• That MVP Award in 2007. It was much-maligned in some circles at the time, due to his .296 average and .344 OBP (offensive numbers were still sky-high in 2007), but it wasn't that egregious as he ranked sixth (Baseball-Reference) and seventh (FanGraphs) among NL position players in WAR. I mean, this wasn't Andre Dawson 1987 or anything.
• Championship teams. Played on five straight division winners and has a World Series title. So far.
• Fame. I'd say yes.

All that said, Rollins was an outstanding player from 2004 to 2008, when he averaged five wins per season, but not as outstanding in other years when his batting average and OBP sagged. Also, the two sites evaluate his career WAR quite a bit differently: FanGraphs at 48.8, B-R at 40.3. (Baseball Prospectus has him at 37.0.)

As Rollins plays into his twilight seasons, I have a feeling he'll end up much differently than Morris. Whereas Morris has become overrated as he nears Hall of Fame election, it's possible Rollins was overrated while active but is headed for underrated status in retirement. Unlike Omar Vizquel, Rollins doesn't have one primary attribute to pin his Hall of Fame hopes around; like some of the other all-around players above, his career may slip into "oh, he was pretty good" status, while Vizquel soars toward Cooperstown.

Rollins is a long ways from retirement, and my final analysis is I don't think he's a Hall of Famer, barring a late-career surge -- I think his peak was too short, for starters -- but the man has been a terrific player. Phillies fans have been lucky to have him all these years.

"These guys did put up some incredible numbers, but they're fake."

--Frank Thomas

Thomas joins the Hall of Fame ballot next year -- along with Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine and Mike Mussina, among others -- and he believes he should go in on the first ballot. He says his numbers are for real, unlike some other big sluggers from his era, telling reporters at the White Sox fan festival over the weekend: "Watching all the nonsense unfold and not really knowing what was going on, it makes me much more proud of my career because I competed in that era and I played at a high level in that era."

Thomas is definitely right about his numbers; he should be a first-ballot Hall of Famer, although I don't believe his election will be so automatic. First, some of those numbers:

• A career line of .301/.419/.555 with 521 home runs, 1,704 RBIs and two American League MVP Awards.
• Led the AL four times in on-base percentage and OPS and once in batting average and slugging percentage.
• During his peak from 1990 through 2000, he hit .321/.440/.579 and averaged 31 home runs and 108 RBIs per season.

If you weren't a baseball fan in the early '90s, it's hard to explain what a devastating force Thomas was when he first arrived in the big leagues. In his first full season in 1991, he posted a .453 OBP and hit 32 home runs. He was the rare combination of the slugger who hit like George Brett or Rod Carew and had Wade Boggs' batting eye, but had power as well. When you talk about hitters who were "feared," well, Frank Thomas was feared. The "Big Hurt" nickname was earned with good reason.

When the White Sox won the AL West title in 1993 -- their first since 1983 -- Thomas was the unanimous MVP. He may not have been the best player in the league that year -- John Olerud actually had a higher OPS and was a better defensive first baseman and Ken Griffey Jr. had similar numbers playing center field, but Thomas was the heart, soul and force of the White Sox. He won his second MVP in the strike season of '94, hitting an insane .353/.487/.729, leading the league in OBP and slugging and collecting 24 of the 28 first-place votes.

Of course, by then everyone started putting up softball numbers and Thomas sort of became just another guy. When the White Sox won another division title in 2000, Thomas hit .328 and drove in 143 runs and finished second in the MVP vote. It would be his last season hitting .300; he missed most of 2001 and although he remained a big presence, he was never quite FRANK THOMAS again.

All that said, three reasons he'll have trouble getting in on the first ballot:

1. He only spent five seasons as a full-time first baseman. He did play a higher percentage of his games in the field than Edgar Martinez -- 42 percent to 28 percent -- but the DH factor could work against him.

2. The Edgar Martinez factor. How much better than Martinez was Thomas? Thomas does lead slightly in career Baseball-Reference WAR, 69.7 to 64.4, and certainly has big edges in home runs (521 to 309) and RBIs (1704 to 1261), but if you add up their 10 best seasons, Martinez edges out Thomas 56.1 WAR to 56.0. Their final slash lines are pretty similar: .301/.419/.555 for Thomas, .312/.418/.515 for Martinez (Thomas played 232 more games). The point here is that Martinez actually compares quite favorably with Thomas, but has languished below 40 percent of the vote.

3. The first-year bias. Simply put: Many voters won't vote for Thomas on the first ballot because they won't perceive him as a first-ballot guy.

Real numbers or not.

Wait, another Hall of Fame column? Hey, there's never a bad time to talk about the Hall of Fame.

I was talking to Jim Caple today, and at some point the discussion diverged to Jack Morris and his chances to get in next year ("Unlikely," Jim says) and then I pointed out Joe Posnanski's line about Dale Murphy being the big winner on this year's ballot because he gets booted off the ballot and into Veterans Committee land. Joe's theory being that Murphy has a much better chance now of getting elected.

"Not so fast," Jim said, making a good point: The Veterans Committee hasn't exactly been a free ride of late. Sure, it's elected a lot of owners and executives and umpires in recent years, but the only post-integration player elected in the past decade has been Ron Santo last year. And, frankly, he had to die to finally get elected.

In fact, the Veterans Committee has elected very few post-integration players in the past 25 years:

Ron Santo, 2012 (66.6 WAR, 43.1%)
Bill Mazeroski, 2001 (32.2 WAR, 42.3%)
Orlando Cepeda, 1999 (46.1 WAR, 73.5%)
Larry Doby, 1998 (47.0 WAR, 3.4%)
Nellie Fox, 1997 (46.3 WAR, 74.7%)
Jim Bunning, 1996 (56.7 WAR, 74.2%)
Phil Rizzuto, 1994 (38.1 WAR, 38.4%)
Red Schoendienst, 1989 (39.0 WAR, 42.6%)

All of these players had a little something "extra" to help get them in: Santo died, Mazeroski was regarded as the best fielding second baseman in history and hit that Game 7 home run in the World Series, Cepeda was one of the first Latin stars, Doby helped break the color line, Fox and Bunning were just a few votes shy of election by the BBWAA, Rizzuto was a famous Yankee, and Schoendienst also had a successful career as a manager that included a World Series title.

Still, that's only eight players in 25 years. Meanwhile, the Veterans Committee has elected five umpires, nine managers and eight executives (not including the Negro Leagues selections).

So Murphy's case isn't exactly all that much better. He peaked at 23.2 percent on the BBWAA ballot, lower than any of the above except Doby.

The next turn of the Veterans Committee will look at those who made their contributions post-1972, but the rules state players must be retired at least 21 years, so Murphy, who retired in 1993, won't be eligible in 2013.

The last time the VC voted on post-1972 candidates, only Pat Gillick was elected. Dave Concepcion received eight of the 16 votes (12 needed for election), while the other players all received fewer than eight (Vida Blue, Steve Garvey, Ron Guidry, Tommy John, Al Oliver, Ted Simmons and Rusty Staub). So I assume the VC will just recycle through a similar ballot, although it would be nice to add Dwight Evans, Bobby Grich and Willie Randolph to the ballot. Evans and Randolph weren't eligible last time around. Not that any of those players other than Concepcion have a chance.

Plus, with Joe Torre and Tony La Russa also being eligible, those are pretty automatic selections.

There will be an induction ceremony at the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum this year, but no one from the select group judged by the BBWAA will be part of it. What's done is done, and no one, first ballot or otherwise, was deemed worthy of joining those already immortalized.

Whether the likes of Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens eventually make the Hall is an entirely different argument, but should they achieve what should be baseball's ultimate individual accomplishment, they will not do so as "first-ballot" entrants. The distinction is purely cosmetic, and carries little to no weight outside of the paper or pixels the adjective is on or composed of, although the qualification seems like it adds an extra bit of heft to certain elections.

But do those players who were elected without needing a second or 14th chance really stand apart from those who went on to plaquedom at a later date? What if we were to form teams, comprising the best of the first-ballots against the best of the later ballots? Would paper give us a clear, definitive winner?

Let's try to find out just that, using players elected by the BBWAA.

In the interest of staying purely objective, I selected the two best players at each position on both sides of the first-ballot line, plus a five-man rotation and one reliever. "Best," in this case, is determined purely by FanGraphs WAR. This method will leave many deserving names off the squads -- Jackie Robinson, Carl Yastrzemski and others -- but this post would never end if every possible lineup were explored.

Catcher
Johnny Bench (1st ballot; 81.5 WAR) versus Carlton Fisk (2nd; 74.4) and Gary Carter (6th; 72.5)

Bench is the only catcher to be elected to the Hall on his first try, but if you're going to have someone stand on his own, you might as well have a guy like Bench, who was renowned both for his offense and his defense.

Fisk, though, stacks up very well to Bench offensively, even if it took him seven extra years to accumulate comparable figures, and Carter was certainly no slouch, with 324 home runs. It's not Bench's fault he has no depth behind him in this hypothetical land, but given his lack of backup and the stiff competition provided by Fisk and Carter, it's tough to not lean away from the favorite.

Advantage: Later Ballots

First Base
Stan Musial (1st; 139.4) and Eddie Murray (1st; 78.8) versus Jimmie Foxx (7th; 112.2) and Hank Greenberg (9th; 68.2)

Musial spent more innings overall in the outfield, but more time at first base than any other single position. It's a boon to the First Ballot squad that that's the case, because left field is just a little stacked, as we'll see shortly. Musial won seven batting titles and accrued 1,377 extra-base hits, along with three MVP awards. Plus, if we're counting character, there are few men more highly regarded in terms of personality. Murray is certainly no slouch in his own right, with 500-homer power to come off the bench or DH.

That it took Foxx seven tries to enter the Hall is a wonder, with 534 homers, two batting titles and career .609 slugging percentage among his many offensive highlights. He even started 89 games at catcher, although how competently he handled the position might certainly be up for debate. Greenberg, like many in his era, lost multiple years of playing time to World War II, a noble sacrifice if there ever was one. Still, despite logging just 6,097 career plate appearances, the original Hammerin' Hank hit 331 home runs and drove in 150 or more in three different seasons.

Advantage: First Ballots

Second Base
Joe Morgan (1st; 108) and Rod Carew (1st; 80.4) versus Rogers Hornsby (5th; 134.9) and Eddie Collins (4th; 132.4)

Comparing players from such starkly different eras can sometimes be tricky. Here, stars of the 1970s and '80s square off against offensive powerhouses of the '10s and '20s. Morgan, the ironic idol of the sabermetric philosophy, compiled 850 more walks than strikeouts and helped bring offensive notoriety to a position that hadn't seen production of his caliber in some time. Carew won six batting titles in seven years -- including a monster .388 average in 1977 -- and made 18 consecutive All-Star teams on his way to 3,000 hits.

Hornsby put up numbers that have never been duplicated at second base: three .400-plus average seasons in the midst of six consecutive years leading the league not just in average, but also in OBP and SLG (and, thereby, OPS as well). Collins didn't top the charts quite as often as Hornsby, but his .333 career average and 741 stolen bases certainly speak loudly enough. Both men, despite the heavily offensive nature of their era, were still heads and shoulders above the pack.

Advantage: Later Ballots

Third Base
Mike Schmidt (1st; 110.5) and Wade Boggs (1st; 94.7) versus Eddie Mathews (5th; 107.3) and Harmon Killebrew (4th; 78.5)

Schmidt, by many measures, is the greatest third baseman to ever play the game. With 548 homers (leading his league in eight different seasons), plus 10 Gold Gloves, it can be easy to see how that conclusion's reached. He remains the all-time leader for home runs hit by a third baseman, with the closest active player more than 200 away entering the 2013 season (Adrian Beltre, 346). Boggs, in interesting contrast, hit just 118 home runs, but his .328 average is the highest by any third baseman with 5,000 or more career plate appearances. Of note: Brooks Robinson just misses being part of this pair by 0.1 WAR.

Were it not for a fellow named Aaron, Mathews would have a strong case for best power hitter in Braves franchise history. Alas, his 512 homers and nine All-Star elections will have to settle for second fiddle, even though that's certainly not something to hang one's head about. Killebrew, though he actually spent more innings at first base, had more than 6,200 innings at the hot corner under his belt. Considering the only other third baseman elected post-initial ballot is Pie Traynor and his 42.1 WAR, Killebrew seemed the better option to make this a match. Still, though, the one-two of Schmidt and Boggs is a tall face to scale, no matter the competition.

Advantage: First Ballots

Shortstop
Honus Wagner (1st; 147.6) and Cal Ripken Jr. (1st; 99.7) versus Joe Cronin (10th; 75.4) and Barry Larkin (3rd; 70.5)

Boasting an almost unprecedented combination of power and speed, Honus Wagner won eight batting titles, hit 643 doubles, 252 triples (third all-time) and swiped 723 bases. What's more, he never struck out more than 64 times in any season, and had as many or more doubles than strikeouts in nine different campaigns. Ripken, whose legendary durability allowed him to amass fantastic numbers for any position, much less the often light-hitting designation of shortstop, is the greatest player in Orioles franchise history and one of three players to cross the 600-doubles threshold since 2000 (Craig Biggio and Barry Bonds, two potential future Hall of Famers themselves, are the others).

Cronin was a doubles machine in his own right, surpassing 500 in his 20-year career, but played in the juiced ball era of the '30s and, as such, did not stand out quite as starkly from his peers (115 career OPS+). Longeivty, too, especially in the face of someone like Ripken, sets Cronin back a step or two, as he registered just 425 PAs after his age 34 season. Larkin, the most recent Hall inductee, played his entire career for the Reds, much as Ripken played all of his for Baltimore. That's about where the comparison ends, though, despite Larkin's collection of multiple All-Star selections, Silver Sluggers, Gold Glove awards and an MVP award. It's just not quite enough.

Advantage: First Ballots

Left Field
Ted Williams (1st; 139.8) and Rickey Henderson (1st; 113.9) versus Al Simmons (9th; 78.5) and Billy Williams (6th; 69.8)

It took this long, but we finally have our first runaway match of this exercise. Here, we have Williams and his .344/.482/.634 line, 525 doubles and 521 homers plus Henderson's .279/.401/.419 with 1,406 stolen bases and 81 leadoff home runs against the .334/.380/.535 and 539 doubles of Simmons (compiled in the '30s) and the .290/.361/.492 and 426 homers of Billy Williams. All due respect to the latter two and their fine careers, but this one isn't close.

Advantage: First Ballots

Center Field
Willie Mays (1st; 163.2) and Ty Cobb (1st; 161.8) versus Joe DiMaggio (4th; 91.9) and Duke Snider (11th; 71.8)

Mays is, by many measures, the greatest center fielder ever. Despite losing his age-22 season to military service, Mays hit 660 homers, stole 338 bases and played superlative defense. A truly perennial All-Star, Gold Glover and top-10 MVP candidate, Mays stands above all center fielders, even despite playing at the same time as Mickey Mantle. Cobb is certainly no bum, either, as shown by his mere 1.4 WAR separation from Mays. Twelve batting titles and a .366 career average (highest all-time) make Cobb an historic offensive force, even if his career high of home runs is 12 (achieved twice, later in his career). From ages 20 through 38, Cobb hit .373 over 11,280 plate appearances and had a 175 OPS+.

That DiMaggio took four years to bypass the Hall's minimum voting requirement is a huge surprise, and he provides a boost to the Later Ballot squad with his presence. Another player who lost multiple seasons to military service, DiMaggio's career was relatively short, but it was jam-packed with impactful, valuable years that inspired fans across the country, to say nothing of feats like his 56-game hit streak. Snider, who often takes a back seat in the discussion of all-time center fielders because he played at the same time as Mantle and Mays, hit .308/.390/.569 from 1950-59, and finished with 407 career homers. Still: he never won an MVP or batting title, and led the league in homers just once.

Advantage: First Ballots

Right Field
Babe Ruth (1st; 177.9) and Hank Aaron (1st; 150.4) versus Mel Ott (3rd; 115.9) and Paul Waner (6th; 79)

And here, we arrive at our second runaway matchup. Ruth, he of the .342/.474/.690 line, 714 home runs and more appearances atop the league leaderboards in homers, runs scored, RBI, OBP, SLG and other numbers that were years from conception (like wOBA) than you could stuff in an entire clubhouse, paired with Aaron, he of the 755 home runs, all-time high 2,297 RBIs and 21 consecutive All-Star selections, is a two-headed behemoth that might never be equaled. Ott and Waner are, obviously, very fine players in their own right, but this isn't a contest.

Advantage: First Ballots

Pitching Staff
Walter Johnson, Nolan Ryan, Steve Carlton, Tom Seaver, Christy Mathewson and Dennis Eckersley (all 1st; 619.1 combined WAR) versus Cy Young (2nd), Bert Blyleven (14th), Gaylord Perry (3rd), Pete Alexander (3rd), Lefty Grove (4th) and Goose Gossage (9th; 631 combined WAR)

On names alone, it would feel like the First Ballots would take this one in runaway. Not so fast, though! The Later Ballots have about a 2-WAR/player edge, although that doesn't add up to much when you consider the lengths of the careers among this list of names. We're dealing with players from a number of different eras and pitching styles, but the chart shows some cumulative numbers.

It's awfully close. Personally, I'm more inclined to favor the higher strikeout totals in more innings, even with the elevated walk totals. But, really, it's hard to go wrong either way.

Advantage: Push

Conclusion

This might be a different argument in a few years, as the next waves of Hall candidates make their way through the election process. Both sides stand to gain significant reinforcements that, at the very least, would bolster depth. For now, though, the First Ballot players seem to form a squad worthy of their distinction, and one that outpaces a collection of their cohorts that were required to sweat it out.

Overall Advantage: First Ballots

Paul Boye would have voted for Barry Bonds. He's a contributor to the Phillies blog Crashburn Alley, and can be found on Twitter: @Phrontiersman

The best reaction to Wednesday's Hall of Fame non-election came from the New York Times, which delivered a blank page instead of a story. Can anything sum up what happened better than that?

As I wrote last night, the current problem isn't just the PED-tainted players not getting in or creating a crowded ballot. Voters want to elect Hall of Famers -- the average ballot contained 6.6 names -- but they just can't agree on which players. They generally stick to a "best at his position" opinion of candidates, but even though the number of teams has doubled in the past 50 years, the number of Hall of Famers hasn't.

Some other takes:

Jayson Stark, ESPN.com:

Do we really want a Hall of Fame that basically tries to pretend that none of those men ever played baseball? That none of that happened? Or that none of that should have happened?

Hey, here's a bulletin for you: It happened.

The '90s happened. The first few years of the 21st century happened. I saw it with my very own eyeballs. So did you.

It all happened, on the lush green fields of North America, as crowds roared and cash registers rung. It ... all ... happened.

And how did it happen? The sport let it happen. That's how.

Joe Sheehan, from his newsletter:

Biggio's lack of support reflects a truth about the Hall: you're better off having one signature skill than being a great player who does everything well for a long time. As with Tim Raines (52.2%), as with Alan Trammell (33.6%), Hall voters, who largely shun the analysis that takes into account all facets of a player's game, were unable to see Biggio's complete package as being Hallworthy. Kenny Lofton and Bernie Williams, two center fielders of a similar bent, fell off the ballot having appeared on fewer than 5% of the ballots. Similarly, faced with two right-handed starting pitchers on the ballot, one vastly superior to the other, the voters instead gave Morris 385 votes and Curt Schilling just 221. Whatever the Hall of Fame voting is about now, these results show that it is most definitely not about identifying, evaluating and honoring the best available players.

Joe Posnanski, Sports on Earth:

Normally I would say that (Jack) Morris has a great chance to make it next year. But he, like (Craig) Biggio, like everyone, will be facing a ballot unlike any in baseball history. There are three players -- Maddux, Glavine and Thomas -- who are by almost any view of history first-ballot Hall of Famers. Biggio is so close. Mike Piazza and Jeff Bagwell are in the shadow of the door, and almost everything Jack Morris did Curt Schilling did better.

The math is problematic. The BBWAA has not elected more than three players in a single season since 1955. And, of course, we’re in an era where there’s so much skepticism.

I think it will be very close. But after today, I’m not sure Morris gets in next year.

Jonah Keri, Grantland:

When Barry Bonds and Mark McGwire conducted chemistry experiments and broke home run records, this enraged a whole generation of writers. It's basic human nature. We don't like to be made the fools, and here come these two muscle-bound guys, who looked nothing like the Mark Belangers and Rod Carews of the past, launching baseballs into outer space at unprecedented rates. Leave aside the disappointment in seeing records previously held by an asterisked player and a greenies user go by the board. By blackballing Bonds, McGwire, and anyone about whom anti-steroids voters can concoct a flimsy argument, the writers are sending a message.

Tim Brown, Yahoo:

But, we’re here. And when (Hall of Fame president Jeff) Idelson announced that for the eighth time in history the BBWAA had thrown a shutout (and for the first time since 1996), the day struck me as one for accountability, for authenticity, for integrity. Maybe it lasts forever, soothed by the coming class of Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine, Frank Thomas and Jeff Kent, augmented by the holdovers Craig Biggio, Jack Morris and Fred McGriff. Maybe we’ve mistakenly lost Dale Murphy in the shuffle, and maybe that’s not acceptable. Maybe it’ll always cost Bagwell and Pizaza votes.

Richard Justice, MLB.com:

Newspapers are now just one of many options for baseball-hungry consumers. For a time last season, one team -- the Seattle Mariners -- didn't have a single newspaper reporter on its road trips. At least one BBWAA chapter pads its membership with people who do not meet the organization's own requirements. Plenty of other members -- people who haven't written about the sport in decades -- continue to have Hall of Fame voting privileges.

This system may have worked in another era. But now, as men and women move on from the newspaper business, as they get farther and farther from the process, the Hall of Fame could do better.

BBWAA membership is supposed to be for the men and women whose primary responsibility is to cover baseball, and the BBWAA traditionally has extended membership to newspaper columnists and sports editors regardless of the depth of their involvement in coverage of the sport.

What makes this discussion even more compelling is that we're living in an era when there are more ways to evaluate Hall of Fame candidates than ever before. Whether you buy into the various ways of calculating Wins Above Replacement, whether you believe in Jay Jaffe's advanced metrics or the writing that Bill James has done on the topic, they are invaluable tools for being able to assess the whole of a player's career.

Grant Bisbee, SB Nation:

Schilling was the archetype of the plus-control, high-strikeout pitcher, which makes him something of a snapshot in time. If you wanted to be successful in the '90s and '00s, you pitched like Curt Schilling, missing bats and limiting walks. Few did it better. Or, rather, no one did it better. He pitched long enough to win more than 200 games, and he dominated in a high-offense era. He pitched in four World Series, and he literally pitched with his tendon shooting blood out of his ankle like something out of a Sam Peckinpah movie to help the Red Sox win their first championship in a millennium. Literally!

And he did his best work, his stretch of truly superior pitching, during the peak of the steroids era. If the voters are going to penalize everyone on the list of 205 names the Senator from Wisconsin had in his hand, why wouldn't they give extra credit to the players who excelled against those stacked odds? Considering there's no smoke around Schilling and PEDs, why wouldn't he get a boost?

Ken Rosenthal, Fox Sports:

Sports Illustrated’s Tom Verducci, speaking on MLB Network, referred to the day’s outcome as a “deferral,” and that’s exactly how I see it. Many of us are so conflicted, we’re unable to say — definitively, right now — that many of these players belong in the Hall. But is it possible we could change our minds later? Of course.

Such shifts in voting patterns drive many fans nuts, but the 15-year grace period gives us time to form new and broader perspectives. The arguments of sabermetricians, for example, helped persuade me that Bert Blyleven was a Hall of Famer. I’d rather be adaptable than inflexible, as long as I ultimately get it right.

No doubt, Clemens and Bonds face an uphill battle. I expect that their totals will rise next year; some voters surely did not want to elect them on the first ballot. Yet, it’s also possible that many voters who oppose Clemens and Bonds will never waver, keeping them far below 75 percent.

As you probably realize, there are really two Hall of Fames: There is the one elected by the Baseball Writers Association, which consists of all the big names we usually think of when we think of the Hall of Fame; then there is the one elected by the Veterans Committee, which consists of many deserving candidates and many players only the most diehard of diehards have heard of.

In the past 10 elections, the writers have elected just 14 players -- and three of those have been relief pitchers. It's not that the voters don't believe there are qualified candidates. This year, for example, the average ballot contained 6.6 names. Yes, the whole PED mess complicates things, but I think the voters want to see players elected; they just can't agree on which ones.

I want to go position by position and see who the writers have elected through the years. I have a theory on what's happening here. More on that later.

Catchers
1. Gary Carter (1980s)
2. Carlton Fisk (1970s)
3. Johnny Bench (1960s)
4. Yogi Berra (1950s)
5. Roy Campanella (1950s)
6. Gabby Hartnett (1930s)
7. Bill Dickey (1930s)
8. Mickey Cochrane (1920s/1930s)

Players are listed in order of election, most recent to least recent and I've assigned each the general decade they are associated with. For catchers, we basically get one elected per generation. The 1990s candidates would be Mike Piazza (who just hit the ballot) and Pudge Rodriguez (coming up). Both have PED rumors attached to their names, although Piazza fared fairly well in his first year with over 50 percent of the vote.

First basemen
1. Eddie Murray (1980s)
2. Tony Perez (1970s)
3. Willie McCovey (1960s)
4. Harmon Killebrew (1960s)
5. Hank Greenberg (1930s)
6. Bill Terry (1930s)
7. Jimmie Foxx (1930s)
8. Lou Gehrig (1930s)
9. George Sisler (1920s)

Similar thing here: We're getting about one per decade, with Jeff Bagwell, Mark McGwire, Fred McGriff and Rafael Palmeiro being the 1990s candidates and Albert Pujols the eventual 2000s guy.

Second basemen
1. Roberto Alomar (1990s)
2. Ryne Sandberg (1980s)
3. Rod Carew (1970s)
4. Joe Morgan (1970s)
5. Jackie Robinson (1950s)
6. Charlie Gehringer (1930s)
7. Frankie Frisch (1920s)
8. Rogers Hornsby (1920s)
9. Eddie Collins (1910s)
10. Nap Lajoie (1900s)

Are you seeing a trend? Craig Biggio would become another 1990s guy. Carew played a few games at first if you'd rather list him there. Who would be the 2000s guy? I guess Jeff Kent (on the ballot next year) or Chase Utley.

Third basemen
1. Wade Boggs (1980s)
2. George Brett (1980s)
3. Mike Schmidt (1970s/1980s)
4. Brooks Robinson (1960s)
5. Eddie Mathews (1950s)
6. Pie Traynor (1920s/1930s)

Hall voters have been very tough on third basemen, electing only the five obvious guys plus the overrated Traynor. Chipper is the 1990s/2000s guy, perhaps leaving Scott Rolen and Adrian Beltre out in the Cooperstown cold.

Shortstops
1. Barry Larkin (1990s)
2. Cal Ripken (1980s)
3. Ozzie Smith (1980s)
4. Robin Yount (1980s)
5. Luis Aparicio (1960s)
6. Ernie Banks (1950s/1960s)
7. Lou Boudreau (1940s)
8. Luke Appling (1930s/1940s)
9. Joe Cronin (1930s)
10. Rabbit Maranville (1910s)
11. Honus Wagner (1900s)

The pattern basically holds here, although we have three 1980s guys, all first-ballot Hall of Famers. That's why Alan Trammell, despite very strong credentials, has failed to get enough support. There are already three shortstops from his generation already in. Barry Larkin, by arriving a few years after Trammell, gets the "Best shortstop in the National League" label in the 1990s, and thus gets in. Derek Jeter is your 2000s guy -- perhaps hurting Omar Vizquel's case -- and Alex Rodriguez carries the PED stink.

Left fielders
1. Rickey Henderson (1980s)
2. Jim Rice (1970s/1980s)
3. Carl Yastrzemski (1960s/1970s)
4. Willie Stargell (1970s)
5. Billy Williams (1960s)
6. Lou Brock (1960s/1970s)
7. Ralph Kiner (1950s)
8. Stan Musial (1940s/1950s)
9. Joe Medwick (1930s)
10. Ted Williams (1940s/1950s)
11. Al Simmons (1920s/1930s)

Tim Raines draws the short straw since he loses the "not as good Rickey Henderson" argument. Of course he's not as good as Rickey Henderson. Few were ... or will be. The 1990s guy would be Barry Bonds, of course. There isn't really a strong recent candidate, although Ryan Braun is starting build an impressive résumé.

Center fielders
1. Kirby Puckett (1980s/1990s)
2. Duke Snider (1950s)
3. Willie Mays (1950s/1960s)
4. Mickey Mantle (1950s)
5. Joe DiMaggio (1940s)
6. Tris Speaker (1910s)
7. Ty Cobb (1910s)

As I wrote earlier, the writers have been lethal in their treatment of center fielders (you can include Andre Dawson here if you want, although he played more games in right field). Dale Murphy lost the 1980s race to Puckett (and Dawson). The 1990s guy will be Ken Griffey Jr., one reason Bernie Williams and Kenny Lofton just got booted off the ballot. For the 2000s, we have Carlos Beltran, Andruw Jones and Jim Edmonds.

Right fielders
1. Andre Dawson (1980s)
2. Tony Gwynn (1980s/1990s)
3. Dave Winfield (1980s)
4. Reggie Jackson (1970s)
5. Hank Aaron (1950s/1960s)
6. Frank Robinson (1960s)
7. Al Kaline (1950s/1960s)
8. Roberto Clemente (1960s)
9. Paul Waner (1930s)
10. Harry Heilmann (1920s)
11. Mel Ott (1930s)
12. Willie Keeler (1900s)
13. Babe Ruth (1920s)

We have four right fielders from the 1950s and 1960s, but how could you deny any of those four the Hall of Fame? Larry Walker has a higher career WAR than Reggie Jackson, Tony Gwynn or Dave Winfield, but hasn't yet received much support. Your other 1990s guy is the tainted Sammy Sosa, leaving Ichiro Suzuki or Vladimir Guerrero for the 2000s.

Designated hitter
1. Paul Molitor (1980s/1990s)

Frank Thomas joins the ballot next year and Edgar Martinez got 36 percent of the vote this year. Will David Ortiz have a shot?

Starting pitchers
1. Bert Blyleven (1970s/1980s)
2. Nolan Ryan (1970s/1980s)
3. Don Sutton (1970s)
4. Phil Niekro (1970s)
5. Steve Carlton (1970s)
6. Tom Seaver (1970s)
7. Fergie Jenkins (1970s)
8. Gaylord Perry (1960s/1970s)
9. Jim Palmer (1970s)
10. Catfish Hunter (1970s)
11. Don Drysdale (1960s)
12. Juan Marichal (1960s)
13. Bob Gibson (1960s)
14. Bob Lemon (1950s)
15. Robin Roberts (1950s)
16. Whitey Ford (1950s)
17. Warren Spahn (1950s)
18. Sandy Koufax (1960s)
19. Early Wynn (1950s)
20. Red Ruffing (1930s)
21. Bob Feller (1940s)
22. Ted Lyons (1930s)
23. Dazzy Vance (1920s)
24. Dizzy Dean (1930s)
25. Herb Pennock (1920s)
26. Lefty Grove (1920s/1930s)
27. Carl Hubbell (1930s)
28. Pete Alexander (1910s)
29. Cy Young (1890s/1900s)
30. Walter Johnson (1910s)
31. Christy Mathewson (1900s)

The BBWAA hasn't elected a starting pitcher who began his career after 1970. Generally speaking, there are many pitchers from the 1960s and 1970s -- no surprise since offense was lower in that era and innings pitched totals at their highest since the dead-ball era prior to 1920. We have few pitchers from the high-scoring 1920s and 1930s and then nobody from 1980 and on, when offense started rising again.

That will change next year with 300-game winners Greg Maddux and Tom Glavine joining the ballot, and Randy Johnson and Pedro Martinez after that. Jack Morris has one year left and Curt Schilling just began his slow climb. We'll see how other strong candidates -- but not 300-game winners -- Mike Mussina and John Smoltz fare in the future.

Relief pitchers
1. Rich Gossage (1970s/1980s)
2. Bruce Sutter (1970s/1980s)
3. Dennis Eckersley (1980s/1990s)
4. Rollie Fingers (1970s)
5. Hoyt Wilhelm (1950s/1960s)

Sutter's election opens the door for many closers, although Lee Smith has topped out at around 50 percent. Mariano Rivera will be a lock and Trevor Hoffman presumably sails in someday.

* * * *

OK, so you've seen the basic pattern for every position: One guy per decade, barring an extra obvious candidate like the Ripken/Young/Ozzie shortstop trio in the 1980s. Great players like Lou Whitaker and Bobby Grich get knocked off the ballot because Ryne Sandberg is your second baseman. Bernie Williams gets tossed aside because he wasn't Ken Griffey Jr. And so on.

To me -- and I'm admittedly in favor of MORE Hall of Famers -- the problem is twofold:

1. Starting in 1961, we had expansion. We now have twice as many teams as the first 60 years of the 1900s. Thus, logically, we should be electing about twice as many Hall of Famers. But that hasn't been happening; the voters are still following the general "one guy per decade" rule. Whitaker should be in as another 1980s second baseman. Trammell certainly deserves election. Tim Raines deserves to head to Cooperstown. Even leaving out the PED guys, there are many strong candidates from the 1970s, '80s and '90s. We'll catch up a bit in upcoming years with the likes of Maddux, Glavine, Griffey and others, but that will still leave the past 30 years underrepresented.

2. The other problem is more complicated. As the quality of play improves over time -- and it has -- it becomes more difficult to flourish above and beyond your peers. Basically, there were more "bad" players in the old days than now, thus easier for Ty Cobb or Babe Ruth or whomever to put up their numbers. Just look at the career leaders in WAR on Baseball-Reference. Does it make sense that many of the very greatest players of all time were born in the 1800s or before World War II began? As Joe Posnanski just wrote:

Yes, baseball is the only sport going where people honestly believe (and desperately want to believe) that good players today might not match up to good players 75 of 100 years ago, that numbers when the game was all white and all-American are every bit as viable (if not more viable) as numbers after Jackie Robinson and the world joined in.

Baseball is the only sport where anyone would say, with a straight face, that the best player of all time stopped playing during the Great Depression and the best pitcher of all time retired before the Great Stock Market Crash.

So if the quality of play becomes more even, you end up with clusters of players with the same ability or same value, however you want to define it. How do you separate Edgar Martinez from Tim Raines from Larry Walker from Fred McGriff from Alan Trammell? That's what the voters haven't been able to figure out. Sometimes, what we'll call a non-certain candidate like Jim Rice or Bruce Sutter or Jack Morris will pick up momentum -- and it usually has nothing to do with their on-field value -- and get in. More often, those players are left with their various supporters flailing against each other, unable to reach a consensus.

Is this a sad day for baseball? Maybe not. There will be another election next year and one the year after that. I presume onward into the future players will get elected. But this year? The Baseball Writers' Association of America struck out.

Nobody can deny the current process is broken. This summer, the Hall of Fame will hold an induction ceremony that will honor three individuals who have been dead for over 70 years. Only one of those was a player, and Deacon White played so long ago he was a catcher without a glove.

The Hall of Fame is a museum, but there will be no Astros fans trekking to Cooperstown to see Craig Biggio and Jeff Bagwell inducted and take a tour of baseball history. There will be no Tigers and Twins fans going to see Jack Morris get in. No Expos fans cheering Tim Raines, Mariners fans driving 3,000 miles to see the great Edgar Martinez inducted or throngs of Mets fans making the short drive to see Mike Piazza's speech.

If you've never been to the Hall of Fame, maybe this summer is the time to go. The lines will be short.

Some quick thoughts:

Craig Biggio (68.2 percent)
The BBWAA went against its history by not electing Biggio. Every eligible player with 3,000 hits except Paul Waner and Rafael Palmeiro was elected in his first year on the ballot (Pete Rose being ineligible). Somehow the writers didn't find room for a player who scored the 15th most runs in history. He'll get in next year.

Jack Morris (67.7 percent)
I almost feel sorry for Morris at this point. His vote total went up just 1 percentage point from last year, leaving him 42 votes short of election. He has one year left on the ballot, and while players as close as Morris often get the sympathy vote when they get this close, his candidacy will be hurt by the addition of Greg Maddux and Tom Glavine to next year's ballot, two pitchers in a higher class than Morris. I just heard Bob Costas on MLB Network mention that the sabermetric community has hurt Morris' case, unlike how it helped Bert Blyleven's case. I think Costas is 100 percent wrong with that statement. In Morris' first five years on the ballot, he received less than 30 percent of the vote. He was initially rejected because voters looked at his 3.90 career ERA as unworthy of Hall status. His totals have risen through the years despite the strong sabermetric evidence against him.

Jeff Bagwell (59.6) and Mike Piazza (57.8)
Bagwell's total increased 3.6 percentage points from last year, and Piazza fared well for a first-ballot guy. By historical measures, both are on an excellent Hall of Fame path. Barry Larkin, for example, received 51.6 percent his first year, 62.1 percent the next and was elected in his third year with 86.4 percent. Bagwell and Piazza are tied to PED rumors, so historical measures may not apply to them; Bagwell's total certainly didn't rise as rapidly as Larkin's did. Still, it's also true that Bagwell and Piazza are being viewed differently than Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens.

Tim Raines (52.2)
In his sixth year on the ballot, Raines' total increased from 48.7 percent. He still has nine years to get in; he'll get there.

Lee Smith (47.8)
While Smith's support isn't surprising in light of the fact that three of the past 14 members elected by the BBWAA have been relief pitchers, it continues to baffle me. Yes, he racked up a lot of saves, but I always put the Smith question this way: At any point in his career, even when he was at his scariest, most dominant peak, would he have been traded for a Dale Murphy, Larry Walker, Edgar Martinez, Curt Schilling or Alan Trammell? Of course not. Smith's general manager would have been laughed off the phone, yet he got more votes than any of those guys. His vote total did drop and it was his 11th year, so he's a guy who was affected by the crowded ballot. His chances took a big turn for the worse.

Curt Schilling (38.8)
While it's amazing that Schilling received almost 30 percentage points fewer votes than Morris, this is actually a decent vote total for a first-year candidate. It may be a slow trek for him, but I believe he's on the path to induction.

Roger Clemens(37.6) and Barry Bonds (36.2)
No surprise that these two received less than 40 percent. The most interesting fact is that Clemens received eight more votes than Bonds.

Edgar Martinez (35.9)
In his fourth year, Martinez lost a few votes. He is already fighting the bias against designated hitters, so even though he is just one of 16 players with at least 10 seasons with a .400 OBP (11 total), this wasn't a good day for him.

Alan Trammell (33.6)
Trammell also lost votes. His bandwagon didn't really begin until last year, but it's too late for him and the ballot is too crowded. He is every bit the Hall of Famer that Larkin is, but with three years left, it will be up to some future version of the Veterans Committee to put him in.

Sammy Sosa (12.5) and Rafael Palmeiro (8.8)
They stayed on the ballot, but they're not getting in, at least not through the BBWAA.

Bernie Williams (3.3) and Kenny Lofton (3.2)
Maybe the most discouraging result of the day is that Williams and Lofton -- admittedly, borderline guys -- will be booted off future ballots, their cases never given the opportunity to be argued. Whitaker'd.

* * *

So there we go. A crowded ballot gets even more crowded next year with the additions of Maddux, Glavine, Frank Thomas, Mike Mussina and Jeff Kent. Good luck, voters.

I was never a big "Bernie Williams for the Hall of Fame" guy, but then Joe Sheehan made an offhand comment about how the Hall of Fame voters have been tough on center fielders. So I checked, and sure enough, the Hall of Fame voters have been tough on center fielders.

Below you'll see all the Hall of Fame outfielders, broken down by position, and whether they were elected by the BBWAA or the Veterans Committee (or Old-Timers Committee). The BBWAA has elected 11 left fielders and 13 right fielders, but only seven center fielders. Doesn't that seem a little unfair, especially since center field is the more demanding defensive position? I think two things have happened:

1. Voters haven't properly accounted for the idea that center field -- like second base and shortstop -- is a defensive position as well as an offensive position. Center fielders don't have to put up the offensive numbers of corner outfielders to be just as valuable.

2. The standards of the great center fielders -- Willie Mays, Ty Cobb, Mickey Mantle, Joe DiMaggio and Tris Speaker -- are so high that voters hold center fielders to unrealistic comparisons.

Anyway, Joe made the point that Williams is a good Hall of Fame candidate, especially when factoring in his excellent postseason numbers (.275/.371/.480) that helped the Yankees win four World Series titles. After all, isn't winning the ultimate goal?

Sabermetrically, Williams' case falls a little short -- 45.9 career WAR on Baseball-Reference. (Despite winning four Gold Gloves, his defense is evaluated as being poor, perhaps because of his notorious weak throwing arm.) He was certainly a great player from 1995 to 2002, but didn't age particularly well so his counting stats (2,336 hits, 287 HR, 1257 RBI) don't impress the voters.

Some would argue Kenny Lofton has a better Hall of Fame case (or even Dale Murphy). The sad part is, both Williams and Lofton may fail to receive the 5 percent needed to remain on the ballot and have their cases discussed further. And center fielders will continue to get short-changed in the Hall of Fame voting.

Left fielders
1. Lou Brock (BBWAA)
2. Rickey Henderson (BBWAA)
3. Ralph Kiner (BBWAA)
4. Joe Medwick (BBWAA)
5. Stan Musial (BBWAA)
6. Jim Rice (BBWAA)
7. Al Simmons (BBWAA)
8. Willie Stargell (BBWAA)
9. Billy Williams (BBWAA)
10. Ted Williams (BBWAA)
11. Carl Yastrzemski (BBWAA)

12. Jesse Burkett (VC)
13. Fred Clarke (VC)
14. Ed Delahanty (VC)
15. Goose Goslin (VC)
16. Chick Hafey (VC)
17. Joe Kelley (VC)
18. Heinie Manush (VC)
19. Jim O'Rourke (VC)
20. Zack Wheat (VC)

(Musial played more games at first base than any single position, but more games in the outfield than first base, with the majority of those as a left fielder. He's usually considered a left fielder for these kinds of things.)

Right fielders
1. Hank Aaron (BBWAA)
2. Roberto Clemente (BBWAA)
3. Andre Dawson (BBWAA)
4. Tony Gwynn (BBWAA)
5. Harry Heilmann (BBWAA)
6. Reggie Jackson (BBWAA)
7. Al Kaline (BBWAA)
8. Willie Keeler (BBWAA)
9. Mel Ott (BBWAA)
10. Frank Robinson (BBWAA)
11. Babe Ruth (BBWAA)
12. Paul Waner (BBWAA)
13. Dave Winfield (BBWAA)

13. Sam Crawford (VC)
14. Kiki Cuyler (VC)
15. Elmer Flick (VC)
16. Harry Hooper (VC)
17. Chuck Klein (VC)
18. Tommy McCarthy (VC)
19. Sam Rice (VC)
20. Enos Slaughter (VC)
21. Sam Thompson (VC)
22. Ross Youngs (VC)

(Dawson played more games in right field, so I listed him here; his best years came as a center fielder, though he won his MVP Award as a right fielder. Cuyler also played a lot in center field, but had more career games in right.)

Center fielders
1. Ty Cobb (BBWAA)
2. Joe DiMaggio (BBWAA)
3. Mickey Mantle (BBWAA)
4. Willie Mays (BBWAA)
5. Kirby Puckett (BBWAA)
6. Duke Snider (BBWAA)
7. Tris Speaker (BBWAA)

8. Richie Ashburn (VC)
9. Earl Averill (VC)
10. Max Carey (VC)
11. Earle Combs (VC)
12. Larry Doby (VC)
13. Hugh Duffy (VC)
14. Billy Hamilton (VC)
15. Edd Roush (VC)
16. Lloyd Waner (VC)

There are really three issues surrounding the Hall of Fame voting results that will be announced at 2 p.m. ET:

1. What to do with the steroids guys.
2. Whether you (or, I should say, the voters from the Baseball Writers Association of America) believe in a big Hall or a small Hall.
3. The debates over the individual players.

Issue No. 1 has taken center stage, of course; the second and third issues are much more interesting to discuss, since they get at the history of the game, the meaning of the Hall of Fame, and how we view great players in those contexts. I'd much rather discuss Jack Morris and Larry Walker and Edgar Martinez than Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens.

Anyway, here are some thoughts from some of my favorite baseball writers:

Buster Olney, ESPN Insider :

Drug use in baseball is part of the sport's history, just as it is in the NFL and the NBA and the NHL. Drug use is part of the history, just like segregation and the 1919 Black Sox and game-fixing. You cannot have a Hall of Fame without players from the steroid era any more than you can erase the accomplishments of Babe Ruth and Lefty Gomez and others because they didn't play any major league games against African-American players.

If there's specific and relevant information about the past drug use of players voted into the Hall of Fame, well, put it on the plaques.

Howard Bryant, ESPN.com:

Baseball's own investigation, ordered by commissioner Bud Selig, concluded that the steroid era was a massive institutional failure.

And yet we have been asked to celebrate it in the Hall of Fame.

[snip]

My position now is the same as it was in 2002 and 2005: If players had been worried back then about how their reputations and the legitimacy of their accomplishments would look when their Cooperstown time arrived, they would have fought harder to protect those things when they had the opportunity.

Jayson Stark, ESPN.com:

Unfortunately, I live in a world where the names of unelected steroid era candidates keep piling up on top of one another, like wrecks in a junk yard, clogging a ballot that has only 10 slots. So there wasn't even room, sadly, to vote for men I'd voted for in the past, let alone men who have long dangled right on my cut line.

And that created the worst ballot nightmare of all: For two decades, I've always studied the names on my ballot and looked for reasons I should vote for a player. Suddenly, this year, I was studying the names of great, deserving players and trying to figure out which of them not to vote for because I only could vote for 10.

Peter Gammons, MLB.com:

I understand how some voters feel that to vote for certain players sends the wrong values message to their children, and while I disagree on the concept of the "eye test," I do so respectfully. My highly respected friend and colleague Pedro Gomez and I argued over Jeff Bagwell last month. Despite my citing his high school and college power and the fact that he couldn't lift a weight anyway during his last five years because of a congenital arthritic condition and that his closest teammate and friend absolutely insisted he was clean, Gomez felt he could not vote for Bagwell.

Fine. We have never fully wrapped our arms around how we deal with steroids and other performance-enhancing drugs. We have a very good idea that players hit balls farther, that their eyesight after 35 was sharper and that pitchers threw harder and could recover more easily. But we also cannot quantify any results. We have never defined "cheating." We who vote are not judges, jurors or keepers of the gate, but we vote because baseball's Hall of Fame is so important to the sport.

Tom Verducci, Sports Illustrated:

When I vote for a player I am upholding him for the highest individual honor possible. My vote is an endorsement of a career, not part of it, and how it was achieved. Voting for a known steroid user is endorsing steroid use. Having spent too much of the past two decades or so covering baseball on the subject of steroids -- what they do, how the game was subverted by them, and how those who stayed away from them were disadvantaged -- I cannot endorse it.

[snip]

The genesis of that article was that during the 2001 season many clean players were complaining to me that steroids had become so prevalent in the game that they felt clearly disadvantaged. That's when I knew the game reached a tipping point: when a few rogue early adopters had grown into hundreds of cheaters. The hundreds who played the game clean were harmed. Many lost jobs, money and opportunity by choosing to play the game clean. I think of them every time I get a Hall of Fame ballot.

Joe Posnanski, Sports on Earth:

But with this history, I think, comes this illusion that time winds backward, that yesterday will always be better than tomorrow, and that no player will ever be quite as exceptional as the ones who crackle on black and white film and in old books. This sort of nostalgia is as much a part of the Baseball Hall of Fame as the city of Cooperstown. It has always been a huge part of the BBWAA vote.

You might already know this: From 1958 to 1964, the Baseball Writers of America cast four Hall of Fame ballots -- in 1958, 1960, 1962 and 1964. They used to vote every two years. Do you know how many future Hall of Famers were on those four ballots? Fifty. Yes: Fifty.

Do you know how many of those 50 got 75% of the writers' votes in those four elections?

Two.

That's right. Two. None in 1958. None in 1960. Two in 1962. None in 1964.

The two players who got 75%, in case you are wondering, were Bob Feller and Jackie Robinson. Feller breezed in, as you would hope and expect. Jackie Robinson made it by just five votes. That would be Jackie Robinson.

[snip]

This sort of thing will happen again this year. Craig Biggio with 3,000 hits, and Jeff Bagwell with a higher WAR than any first baseman not named Gehrig, Foxx or Pujols, and Curt Schilling with the best strikeout-to-walk ratio for any pitcher under modern rules, and Mike Piazza who hit better than any catcher before or since, and Tim Raines, who was probably the best pure base stealer in the game's history ... none of them will make it. But Deacon White, Jacob Ruppert and Hank O'Day -- a player, an owner and an umpire who have been dead for 75-plus years -- are going into the Hall of Fame this year through the veteran's committee's velvet ropes.

Joe Sheehan, from his newsletter:

It's funny when you think of it. Right now, we have the Veterans Committee saying that the Mike LaValliere of the Reconstruction is a Hall of Famer, while the BBWAA is saying that Jeff Bagwell isn't good enough. If you do no timelining at all, it's a little silly; once you start doing any, it's a farce. Deacon White played half his career before pitchers could try and miss bats, and whatever skill he displayed at that game, he's being inducted for being good more at proto-baseball than anything anyone alive has ever seen. The Veterans Committee, a necessary tool at one time, has outlived its usefulness and needs to be eliminated in its current form.

[snip]

There was a problem, though. Take 1927, just as an example. Per the Play Index, in an eight-team league, there were 52 Hall of Famers playing that year, in a 16-team league. That's more than three per team. (Heck, go back to 1895: there were 22 Hall of Famers in a 12-team league (23, but Clark Griffith isn't really in as a player), just 20 years into the history of organized baseball.) In 1965, a time I think we'd all agree featured a tremendous density of stars as African-American players continued to make inroads and change the game, there were 38 Hall of Famers active in a 20-team league -- about two per team. So despite the addition of a class of stars heretofore separate, two generations of improvement in physical development, playing skill and the scouting and development of baseball talent -- including the first wave of Latin stars -- there were fewer Hall of Famers playing baseball, in an absolute sense and per team, than there had been in 1927. Take it out to 1985 -- a year before Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire and Rafael Palmeiro made their debuts -- and you have 30 Hall of Famers on 26 teams.

Tyler Kepner, New York Times:

The next thing that must change is the voting process for the Hall of Fame. There are too many unqualified voters — too many voters, period — and too many segments of the baseball world with no say in the process. There has to be a better way to decide the ultimate honor.

Rob Neyer, SB Nation:

I don't really blame the Baseball Writers Association of America. Of course they're going to behave in a self-serving fashion. Of course they're going to protect their turf, even at the expense of their, and the Hall of Fame's, credibility. Of course they're going to resist change, and pretend, as an organization, that the process is essentially perfect, and in fact could be improved only by a) fewer grenades thrown by impudent non-members/non-voters like me, and b) the dissolution of the Veterans Committee, which after all was invented largely to redress any (supposed) errors made by the BBWAA.

Ken Rosenthal, Fox Sports:

But that consternation -- the intense debate over what to do with Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens and others -- is not a bad thing for the Hall. If anything, it underscores the special place that Cooperstown holds in every fan’s heart.

[snip]

I’m not saying the BBWAA voters are perfect — we have made mistakes, and we undoubtedly will make more. But for the most part, we’ve gotten it right over the years, and I’m confident we’ll eventually get to the right place on the PED users — whatever that place may be.

I've mentioned this before: While the Baseball Writers Association of America have become very stingy on their Hall of Fame elections (and that's aside from the candidates associated with PEDs), other groups are just as stingy -- if not more so.

There is a group called the Internet Baseball Writers Association of America, founded in 2009 by Howard Cole. Each year, the IBWAA holds an alternative Hall of Fame election. I was one of the voters this year, as were fellow ESPN writers Mark Simon and Jim Caple. So this year the IBWAA elected ... Mike Piazza. One guy.

Piazza just squeezed past the 75 percent threshold at 79 percent. But Craig Biggio (64 percent) and Jeff Bagwell (51 percent) didn't make. Neither did Roger Clemens (52 percent) or Barry Bonds (51 percent), although I suspect they received a higher percentage than they'll get from the BBWAA. The IBWAA hasn't elected Barry Larkin, whom the BBWAA elected last year.

(For more information on the IBWAA and the complete voting results, go here.

Similarly, the SportsNation ballot would elect ... well, nobody. The fans are toughest of all, as Biggio topped the ballot with 69 percent of the vote, followed by Piazza at 67 percent.

High standards everyone, very high.

Let's play a little Hall of Fame game. I'm going to present two players with similar statistics. One is in the Hall of Fame and the other is on this year's ballot. Presented two lines of numbers, can you guess which player is the Hall of Famer? Check the numbers, vote in our poll and then check below to see who the players are. (No cheating!)

Comparison No. 1
My favorite part of this comparison are the final two stats: runs created and outs made, with the two players nearly identical over their careers.

I should note that these two are contemporaries and the Hall of Famer made it in the first year he was on the ballot.

While the Hall of Famer was never considered the best player in the game, there is an argument to be made that the non-Hall of Famer was the best player in the game at his peak.

Both were good defensive players and had speed, at least early in their careers.

Comparison No. 2
Two hard-hitting outfielders who both fell short of many of the magic Hall of Fame numbers such as 500 home runs and 3,000 hits due to relatively short careers.

Both had some monster seasons, however. The Hall of Famer led his league in several offensive categories at various times, including runs scored, home runs, RBIs, on-base percentage and slugging percentage. The non-Hall of Famer also led his league in home runs, on-base percentage and slugging percentage. Both were considered good all-around players.

The Hall of Famer took a few years to get elected, but nobody ever calls him out as a poor selection.

Comparison No. 3
Let's try two starting pitchers.

I can say these two were pretty similar in many ways, both among the biggest names in the sport while active, with some legendary tales about their performances.

Both pitched for multiple World Series champions but neither came close to 300 wins. Their adjusted ERAs are pretty similar.

When elected, the Hall of Famer was viewed as a controversial selection, in large part because of his win total. The non-Hall of Famer will have to face that same bias.

Comparison No. 4
Two guys who relied on their bats to earn their paychecks. Both hit cleanup for World Series champs and were viewed as among the premier sluggers in the game at their peaks.

The Hall of Famer made it on his first year on the ballot and made seven All-Star teams. The non-Hall of Famer made five All-Star teams. Both led their league twice in home runs.

The Hall of Famer hit 30-plus home runs six times while the non-Hall of Famer hit 30-plus home runs 10 times, including six seasons in a row at one point.

According to Baseball-Reference, both players had five seasons with 4-plus WAR.

Comparison No. 5
This one is my favorite comparison on the list.

They didn't play the same position, but both did play key up-the-middle positions and were awarded multiple Gold Gloves in their careers.

One guy was part of more than one World Series champion while the other never played in a World Series. The Hall of Famer made it in on his third year on the ballot while the non-Hall of Famer has work to do.

As far as fame, both would rate very high in that category while active. Had they played longer, both would have a better chance to meet some of the automatic Hall of Fame standards.

Comparison No. 6
These two guys played the same position and had several seasons in which their careers overlapped, although they played in different leagues.

Both were arguably the best player on a World Series championship team.

While the Hall of Famer made it after a short stay on the ballot, the non-Hall of Famer has struggled to get enough support. Both players won multiple Gold Gloves. The Hall of Famer hit .300 nine times and the non-Hall of Famer hit .300 seven times.

According to Baseball-Reference, the Hall of Famer had eight four-win seasons while the non-Hall of Famer had nine. This one is close.

Answers

Comparison No. 1: Player A is Tony Gwynn and Player B is Tim Raines.

Of course, I left out Gwynn's 3,000 hits and .338 career average. But as you can see from above, the two were quite similar players: Raines drew more walks, hit a few more home runs and stole more bases at an excellent percentage, making up the advantage Gwynn had in base hits. But Gwynn won batting titles and Raines' dominant years in the '80s came in the obscurity of Montreal.

Comparison No. 2: Player A is Larry Walker and Player B is Duke Snider.

Snider's Hall of Fame case was originally hurt by the fact that he wasn't Willie Mays or Mickey Mantle. Of course, who is? But he was a key member of one of the great teams of all time, the 1950s Brooklyn Dodgers. Snider never won an MVP Award but finished as high as second; Walker won MVP in 1997. Of course, Walker is questioned because of the Coors Field numbers, but as you can see, each player's adjusted OPS is about the same. (Ebbets Field was a great hitters' park as well, and Snider's career OPS is 79 points higher at home.)

Comparison No. 3: Player A is Curt Schilling and Player B is Don Drysdale.

Two hard-throwing right-handers who racked up strikeouts. Schilling, of course, has the great postseason record (11-2, 2.23 ERA); Drysdale was 3-3, 2.95 in the postseason (all World Series games). Both pitched for three World Series champs. Drysdale has the lower career ERA -- 2.95 to 3.46 -- but once you adjust for eras and ballpark (Dodger Stadium in the '60s was a great pitchers' park), Schilling's ERA is a little better.

Comparison No. 4: Player A is Willie Stargell and Player B is Fred McGriff.

And both had cool nicknames as well -- Pops and Crime Dog. Stargell did win an MVP (shared with Keith Hernandez) but that was an award earned for leadership more than production; he did finish second twice in the voting. McGriff finished as high as fourth in the voting.

Comparison No. 5: Player A is Bernie Williams and Player B is Ryne Sandberg.

This was my favorite comparison on the list. Sandberg made it on the third ballot while Williams, despite playing center field for four World Series champs, got just under 10 percent of the vote his first year on the ballot. Shouldn't center fielders be given a similar defensive consideration as second basemen?

Comparison No. 6: Player A is Barry Larkin and Player B is Alan Trammell.

There is very little to separate these two. Larkin did win an MVP Award, but Trammell should have won in 1987, when he finished second. Larkin played until he was 40, but their career games totals are similar. I think his edge over Trammell is that once Ozzie Smith faded, Larkin was viewed as the best shortstop in the National League. Trammell was always behind somebody -- Robin Yount or Cal Ripken, and then after he retired, the AL had all the shortstops putting up the big numbers -- A-Rod, Derek Jeter, Nomar Garciaparra and Miguel Tejada. But there's no shame in being ranked behind Yount or Ripken. Trammell deserves to join Larkin in Cooperstown.

In 1978, four rookies helped the Tigers win 86 games, ending a stretch of four consecutive losing seasons. That group -- Jack Morris, Alan Trammell, Lou Whitaker and Lance Parrish -- would be the core of a team that would finish over .500 for the next decade, peaking with a 104-win season and World Series title in 1984 and another American League East title in 1987. While it wasn't exactly historic -- the Tigers would win 90-plus games just three times in that 11-year stretch -- it was certainly a terrific run of success.

Yet that club has just one Hall of Famer so far -- manager Sparky Anderson.

Morris, of course, has a chance to get in when the balloting results are announced Wednesday. But is he the right Tiger who should go in? Trammell remains on the ballot as well, but received just 37 percent of the vote last year. Whitaker, despite strong but underappreciated credentials, fell off the ballot after one year. Their career stats:

Morris: 254-186, 3.90 ERA, 3824 IP, 3567 H, 1390 BB, 2478 K, 39.3 WAR
Trammell: 2293 G, .285/.352/.415, 185 HR, 1003 RBI, 1231 R, 67.1 WAR
Whitaker: 2390 G, .276/.363/.426, 244 HR, 1084 RBI, 1386 R, 71.4 WAR

Obviously, if you're WAR believer, Morris lags well behind his double-play combo. (Something to consider: How much better did those two make Morris?). Of course, we didn't have WAR back in the '80s, but it's also not correct to say -- as many writers point out in protest against the numbers geeks or in defense of Morris -- that we didn't have those fancy sabermetric stats back then. Of course we did. Bill James was writing his best-selling "Baseball Abstract" throughout the decade.

Let's do a quick survey of how the three players ranked in James' annual "Abstract," to give us another view of how they were viewed at the time.

1981
Morris: Fourth among starting pitchers (behind Fernando Valenzuela, Steve McCatty and Steve Carlton). Morris had a career-best 3.05 ERA in that strike season (it was also the lowest-scoring season in the AL between 1977 and 2012).

Trammell: Sixth among shortstops.

Whitaker: Seventh among second basemen.

1982
Morris: Fifth among starting pitchers (behind Carlton, Dave Stieb, Fernando and Steve Rogers).

Trammell: Fourth among shortstops (behind Robin Yount, Dave Concepcion and Dickie Thon).

Whitaker: Third among second basemen (behind Bobby Grich and Joe Morgan).

1983
Morris: Fifth among right-handed starters. One of his best seasons: 20-13, 3.34 ERA, led the AL in innings and strikeouts.

Trammell: Fourth among shortstops (behind Yount, Thon and Cal Ripken).

Whitaker: First among second basemen. Hit .320, won a Gold Glove, eighth in MVP voting (the only time he received MVP votes).

1984
Morris: James rated entire rotations instead of pitchers. Morris didn't rank in the top 10 in the AL in ERA or innings.

Trammell: Second among AL shortstops. Trammell was the World Series MVP, hitting .450 with two homers and six RBIs.

Whitaker: First among AL second basemen.

1985
Morris: Fourth among AL right-handers (behind Bret Saberhagen, Stieb and Bert Blyleven). In separate article on the Hall of Fame progress of active players, James wrote, "Among the pitchers of his generation, Jack Morris is the one who is making the strongest progress toward the Hall of Fame. It is not that he has done anything spectacular that immediately projects him forward, as Dwight Gooden did last year, but that he is picking up plusses here, there and everywhere, adding something almost every year.

Trammell: Third among AL shortstops (behind Ripken and Tony Fernandez).

Whitaker: First among AL second basemen. "May have been the only unanimous selection other than Gooden," James wrote.

1986
Morris: Fourth among AL pitchers. "He's probably three or four good years away from the Hall of Fame now."

Trammell: Fourth among AL shortstops (behind Fernandez, Ripken and Julio Franco).

Whitaker: Third among AL second basemen.

1987
Morris: Second among MLB right-handed starters (behind Roger Clemens). "For the ninth straight year, Jack Morris last year did a few things that would be characteristic of a Hall of Fame pitcher."

Trammell: Third among MLB shortstops (behind Ozzie and Fernandez). A little surprising that Trammell didn't rate ahead of Fernandez, after finishing second in the MVP vote (and he should have won it over George Bell).

Whitaker: Third among MLB second basemen.

1988
James did not publish a book in 1989.

1989
James published "The Baseball Book," but did not include player rankings. He did include his 1980s decade All-Star team and had Morris as the No. 3 starting pitcher, behind Dwight Gooden and Roger Clemens. That's the argument, of course, that has essentially gained Morris momentum in recent years ("Most wins in the '80s.") Morris did pitch the most innings in the decade, and while defining a decade as artificial as any 10-year division, it is instructive to note what happened to the other top pitchers on James' all-decade team:

• Dwight Gooden: Suffered shoulder injury in 1989.
• Roger Clemens: All-time great.
• Ron Guidry: First season didn't come until he was 26, so had a short career. Crushes Morris in career Cy Young shares -- he's 16th while Morris is 76th.
• Bob Welch: 211-146, 3.47 in career, won a Cy Young award, received one vote for Hall of Fame.
• John Tudor: Developed late and then got hurt, but was great for a few years.
• Orel Hershiser: Led National League three consecutive years in innings pitched and then tore rotator cuff. Came back and managed to win 204 games. Fell off the ballot in second year.
• Teddy Higuera: The little guy from Mexico could really bring it. Was 27 as a rookie and later had back surgery and then tore his rotator cuff.
• Bret Saberhagen: Two-time Cy Young winner had thrown over 1,300 innings at age 25 (Morris had just under 600). Shoulder issues rest of career.
• Dave Stieb: Had the second-most wins in the '80s. Averaged 275 innings from ages 24-27. Morris averaged 228 at the same ages. Shoulder and back injuries.
• Fernando Valenzuela: Led league in innings at age 20. Averaged 269 innings from 21 through 25. Arm died.

You see what happened here, right? Most of the best pitchers of the '80s got hurt. With guys like Valenzuela, Gooden and Saberhagen, it's not surprising, seeing in retrospect the workloads they carried as young pitchers. This requires a more in-depth article, but the 1980s was a sort of transition decade: Teams were moving to five-man rotations, hitters were getting bigger and stronger, the 300-inning workloads of the 1970s had ceased, but pitchers weren't handled as carefully as now and medical and training techniques weren't as advanced.

Morris and Clemens -- both college pitchers, by the way -- weren't abused at a young age like some of the other top pitchers. They survived. Morris first threw 200 innings at age 24 (between the majors and minors) and threw 250 at age 25, but then had the shortened season at age 26. His first back-to-back big workloads didn't come until 27-28.

That makes Morris unique for his generation of pitchers -- but doesn't make his value more than what it was. But back to the point: Based on James' rankings, Morris was considered one of the best pitchers at the time -- not the No. 1 or No. 2 or No. 3 guy, but you don't have to be the very best to achieve Hall of Fame status.

Trammell and Whitaker also ranked consistently high and there was certainly a time when Whitaker was defended as the best second baseman in baseball. Trammell might not have quite achieved that status -- but, again, you don't have to be No. 1 to be a Hall of Famer (it would be a small Hall of Fame if that were the case). On the other hand, Morris probably was the most famous of the three. One year, James wrote that one of these days America would wake up and realize how great Whitaker was. That, unfortunately, never did happen, even though Whitaker remained effective until he retired after 1995 (he slugged .518 that year).

OK, this was really just a long post to give a reason to post the poll above. What do you think?

OK, enough with all of what the so-called experts. What do you think about this year's ballot?

First of all, here's the SportsNation ballot where you can vote for up to 10 candidates. In the past, the fans have been tougher than the writers. Let's see if anybody even cracks the 75 percent marker.

Then you can play a little crystal ball: Predict how the first-timers will do. Will Roger Clemens and Barry Bonds get 50 percent of the vote? Will Craig Biggio go in? How many votes will Curt Schilling get?