Sixteen people chosen by the Baseball Hall of Fame will gather Sunday in a meeting room to debate historical greatness. They hold the power to change someone’s legacy in perpetuity. The 16 people of the Classic Baseball Committee are members of the Hall, executives and veteran media members. They will have an off-the-record, frank conversation with no sidebars or cell phones and debate the merits of eight players selected by a screening committee.
As someone fortunate enough in past years to have been selected to participate in the process, I can say there are no “favorites” for election and that every candidate gets an honest appraisal. If you can imagine a jury room, you can get a sense of how the work plays out. Baseball fans will argue the outcome; it’s part of the traditional debate about what defines ultimate greatness. But they should be confident about the integrity of the process.
The committee has an especially difficult assignment this year because of the variety of candidates. The careers of the eight players under consideration began as far back as 1908 and ended as recently as ‘91. Their primary positions are three pitchers, two first basemen, an outfielder, a third baseman and a manager. Three are living. Two have been within one or two votes of election by past committees.
Over the past two iterations of these oversight committees, just one candidate has been elected each time: Fred McGriff in 2022 and Jim Leyland in ’23. A candidate must receive at least 12 votes from the 16 members for election. Committee members can vote for up to three candidates, a drop from four a few years ago when the ballots had more choices. The new math—especially with a deep field like this one—appears to make the election of multiple candidates more difficult. Before ‘22, the previous six committees combined to elect 14 candidates, never fewer than two.
You can read elsewhere or decide yourself who is most likely to be elected. Such horse race talk is guesswork. Unlike the writers’ ballot, voters do not promote their vote before the process is completed. The unspooling of consideration begins only when the door is closed Sunday.
Here are the eight candidates up for election:
Dick Allen
The case for: He was one of the game’s most dominant hitters during a down era for hitting in the 1960s and ’70s.
Allen is one of only four hitters not in the Hall of Fame with a career OPS+ of 150 or better over at least 1,700 games. The others are Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire and Manny Ramirez, all tainted by PEDs.
Allen was a Rookie of the Year, an MVP, a seven-time All-Star and league leader in OPS (four times), slugging (thrice), home runs and OBP (twice) and runs, total bases and RBI (once). Goose Gossage, a teammate of Allen’s during his 1972 MVP season, called him the greatest player he ever played with.
In his 11-year prime (1964–74), Allen led the majors in OPS+ (165), was fifth in HRs (behind Hall of Famers Hank Aaron, Harmon Killebrew, Willie Stargell and Willie McCovey) and joined Aaron as the only players in that span with 300 homers and 100 stolen bases. He was one of the Phillies’ first Black stars and dealt with racism from the time the club sent him to Little Rock to integrate its Triple-A team.
Twice Allen has missed election by a Hall committee by one vote.
The case against: Much has been made of what Bill James wrote about Allen 30 years ago: “He did more than anybody else to keep his team from winning, and if that’s a Hall of Famer, I’m a lug nut.” Allen did strike out plenty and was not a plus defender. From 1969–77 he bounced from the Phillies to the Cardinals to the Dodgers to the White Sox to the Phillies again and to the Athletics. He feuded with managers and front offices. He played 130 games in a season only six times.
Ken Boyer
The case for: He was a reliable all-around player who was the premier defensive third baseman in the National League in his prime.
Consistency was his hallmark. In the nine seasons from 1956–64, Boyer drove in 90 runs eight times, made seven All-Star teams, won five Gold Gloves and was named Most Valuable Player in ‘64.
The case against: His MVP season marked the only time he finished in the top five in MVP voting. He led the league in a major offensive category once (RBI in 1964). His statistical profile (62.8 WAR, 116 OPS+, 282 HR) resembles that of Robin Ventura (56.1, 114, 294) and he ranks behind fellow third basemen Graig Nettles and Buddy Bell in WAR, hits and total bases.
John Donaldson
The case for: A lefthanded pitcher and sometimes outfielder, Donaldson was one of the most popular, prolific and best ballplayers in the first half of the 20th century.
Donaldson’s career predated the organization of the Negro Leagues in 1920. His career spanned 33 years of professional and semi-professional baseball, from ‘08, when he began with the Missouri Black Tigers at age 17, to ‘40—often playing year-round on barnstorming teams. In style, popularity and miles covered playing baseball, he forged a path Satchel Paige would follow. So well-known was Donaldson that he regularly was referred to as Famous John Donaldson.
He was voted to the first-team Negro Leagues all-time team in 1952 in a poll of the league’s players conducted by the Pittsburgh Courier. He is one of only three players on that team not enshrined in Cooperstown.
The case against: Complete statistics on Donaldson can be difficult to find, considering he often pitched for barnstorming and semi-pro teams.
Steve Garvey
The case for: Garvey was one of most famous and accomplished ballplayers of his generation and an all-time great postseason hitter.
From 1974–81, Garvey made the All-Star team every year, received MVP votes every year, was named the MVP of the All-Star Game, the NL and the NLCS (which he would win a second time in ‘84), won four Gold Gloves, played in four World Series, had more total bases than any hitter in baseball and began an NL record streak of 1,207 consecutive games.
Garvey’s career postseason batting average of .338 is the second best among players with 150 plate appearances, trailing only the .361 mark of Lou Gehrig.
He appeared in 10 All-Star games (in which his teams were 10–0, a record), he set the record for most consecutive errorless games at first base (193, since broken), his teams were 6–0 in division and championship series rounds and his No. 6 was the first number retired by the Padres.
The case against: Garvey is the only player to get more than 40% support on his first ballot and never get into the Hall. He never found momentum on the writers’ ballot. Much of the pushback has come from application of analytics. Garvey’s game was built on batting average, putting the ball in play and durability, factors that have been diminished with a growing emphasis on rate stats and power. Garvey never walked much, never slugged .500 and hit 30 homers once.
Dave Parker
The case for: In his 12-year prime, Parker was among the best all-around players in the game.
From 1975–86, Parker finished in the top five in MVP voting five times, winning in ‘78 with the second of his back-to-back batting titles, won three Gold Gloves and was named to six All-Star Games.
Playing through age 40, Parker retired as a .290 hitter with 2,712 hits and 339 home runs. He is one of only 14 players to reach those thresholds.
The case against: Parker did not age well because of injuries and, by his admission, his cocaine use from 1979–82. Parker posted 32.4 WAR over his first seven seasons and 7.7 over the next 12.
Vic Harris
The case for: With 17 seasons as a player and 11 as a manager, nearly all of it with the Homestead Grays, Harris was one of the most accomplished and influential fixtures of the Negro Leagues.
Known as “Vicious Vic” for his toughness, Harris was a career .303 hitter and seven-time All-Star who began managing in 1936 while still playing. His Grays won the league title eight of his 11 years managing the team, a record for first-place finishes for a Negro Leagues manager. His ‘48 team won the Negro World Series, the last to be played, over the Birmingham Black Barons and 17-year-old Willie Mays.
The case against: In 2006, a screening committee considering Negro League players, managers and executives did not include Harris while trimming a list of 94 candidates to 30 on the final ballot. That omission was largely viewed as a prominent oversight. Harris did appear on the 2022 Early Baseball Committee Ballot. He received 10 votes, two short of election.
Tommy John
The case for: John won more games and threw more innings than any pitcher since 1900 not connected to PEDs and was the first to successfully come back from what would be known as his eponymous elbow surgery.
John was 124–106 with a 2.97 ERA through age 31 when he underwent the surgery from Dr. Frank Jobe that would change the game. (The humble Jobe named his groundbreaking procedure after his patient, rather than himself, a rarity in medicine. Jobe deserves to be included in Hall of Fame consideration.) John pitched another 14 years thereafter, going 164–125 with a 3.66 ERA.
He finished in the top five in ERA six times, one more than Tom Glavine. He posted a 2.65 ERA across 14 postseason games, 13 starts—four of them Game 1 starts. It is the seventh-lowest postseason ERA with at least 13 starts. He also was an Opening Day starter six times.
The case against: It’s the same case as the case for: John was an extreme compiler. Over 26 seasons, he finished in the top five in Cy Young Award voting only three times (1977 with the Dodgers, ‘79 and ‘80 with the Yankees).
Luis Tiant
The case for: Tiant was one of the most entertaining and prolific pitchers in an era dominated by starting pitchers.
Tiant pitched 19 years for six teams, often as the ace. He was 229–172 with a 3.30 ERA and 114 ERA+ over 3,486 ⅓ innings. He won two ERA titles, recorded 20 wins four times and finished in the top five in Cy Young voting two times.
He left his greatest mark on the game in the biggest spots and with a unique style. In the postseason he was 3–0 with a 2.86 ERA in five games, four starts. With his various arm angles, gyrations and changes of speed, he made the craft of pitching entertainment.
This article was originally published on www.si.com as Analyzing the Baseball Hall of Fame Classic Committee Ballot.
