Making Sense of the Hall of Fame Vote (Or At Least Trying To)

Big Monday Rewind for you today! I’m in New York, going to dear friend Alexis Gay’s show “Unprofessional” — a few tickets are still available if you happen to be in the New York area. Come on out! You’ll have the best time and you can yell at me afterward for the Jeff Kent rant that is coming.

Also, we have some new merch in the JoeBlogs store. Holiday merch! A PosCast Holiday Draft mug! A Clubhouse water bottle! Katie will be adding more soon!

OK, for you parents out there: You know that feeling when you realize that your child is basically, well, you? It’s not an easy feeling to explain — it’s part pride, it’s part joy … but it’s also part guilt. On one of our journeys for the book BIG FAN, Mike and I ran across a father and two sons wearing Bears jerseys. When I went to talk with them about their fandom, the father had this guilty look on his face.

“Yeah,” he said both happily and very sadly when I asked questions, “I did this to them.”

THAT’S the feeling I’m talking about.*

A few days ago, our oldest daughter, Elizabeth, and I were talking about something or other, and at some point, I said that the song “Man or Muppet,” from The Muppets, is a total banger. You know: The sort of conversations fathers and daughters have.

I added, “I know this is controversial.”

Elizabeth was mortified — not because I think the song is great, but because I called it controversial. In her mind, it’s both obvious and unanimous that “Man or Muppet” is a banger. “I mean,” she said, “it won the Oscar for Best Song.”

“Yeah, but what does that even mean?” I asked.

I suspect that asking that last question of pretty much any other 24-year-old on earth would have more or less ended the conversation. But because Elizabeth is my daughter, she has now started a newsletter series where she is listening to every single Oscar-winning and nominated song to determine EXACTLY what it means.

Why did I have to burden my family with my inability to let go of anything?

Some years ago, I went on a pretty savage campaign to prove that Bert Blyleven was a much, much, much better pitcher than Jack Morris and that there was basically no comparison between their Hall of Fame cases. This led me to write many, many (many) pieces that could be viewed as anti-Jack. I regretted it then. I regret it now. I don’t think it is in the spirit of the Hall of Fame to bash terrific players like Jack Morris just because they fall short of your own personal Hall of Fame.

As such, I was happy when Jack Morris was elected to the Hall by the veteran’s committee.

And I told myself that I wouldn’t do that again — that even when players who fall below my Hall of Fame line are elected, I would be happy for them and try to celebrate what they did well and remind myself that there are NO bad players in the Baseball Hall of Fame.

Jeff Kent was not a bad player. He was a good player.

He was also nowhere near a Hall of Famer. Nowhere near.

I feel sure that I would vote for 50 players ahead of Jeff Kent, if not more*.

And the guy who finished second in the Sunday voting was … CARLOS DELGADO? WHAT? I find myself pretty grumpy about the whole thing. I don’t like that about myself. I don’t like that the Hall of Fame plaque room matters to me so much that it crushes my spirits to see the directions that veterans committees have chosen to take it.

But I’ve read ahead — I know a rant is coming.

You have been warned.

It’s all about the stats. ‘Bout the stats. No nuance.

I don’t know why I ever think it’s about more than that.

Before my friend, Hall of Fame President Josh Rawitch, announced that Jeff Kent had been elected to the Hall of Fame, he read off the famous criteria that the voters are supposed to use as the basis for their vote:

And that’s all well and good. But do you know what it’s REALLY based on, when you look at the players the veteran’s committees actually vote in?

Career stats. Period.

Here in 2025, the Contemporary Era Committee voted in Jeff Kent, who, you probably know — because this factoid has been lobbed at us relentlessly for 15 years — hit more career home runs than any second baseman.

The only other player who received at least 50% of the vote was, bizarrely, Carlos Delgado, who was a fine hitter but whose only distinguishing characteristic on a ballot loaded with better-rounded ballplayers is his 473 home runs. All those home runs.

And it occurs to me that there’s no reason to break down the complex dynamics of these committees and their votes. There’s nothing complex about it at all.

Whichever player has the most compelling career statistic will get elected. That’s all.

Is that wrong? I can’t say that. These committees are made up of immensely accomplished baseball folks — Hall of Famers, longtime executives, prominent media members, and so on. I can believe whatever I want*, but if they think it should come down to lifetime stats and catchy slogans (most wins in the 1980s! Most homers for a second baseman! Retired with the most career saves!), then that’s what it is.

But I see no value in treating that as more complicated or thoughtful than it actually is.

Jeff Kent is going to the Hall of Fame for two reasons — the second more than the first.

Reason 1: He spoke out against steroids, becoming a favorite of Bud Selig (who quoted him in a letter he wrote to the players’ union in 2005).

Reason 2: He hit more home runs than any second baseman.

As for the second baseman thing — it has led pretty much every argument I’ve heard for Kent the last decade or more, and it was the first thing that the MLB Network host said after Josh announced Kent’s election. And, well, I’ve said this before, but I think it’s one of those facts that falls to even the slightest scrutiny. Most homers as a second baseman?

So what?

What can you learn from this list?

Most homers by position:

I’ll tell you what you learn: Second basemen don’t hit a lot of home runs. That’s all. Kent wouldn’t be within 150 home runs of the leader at ANY OTHER POSITION except catcher. He wouldn’t be a viable Hall of Fame candidate if he played any other position … and the kicker is that he wasn’t a particularly good defensive second baseman.

This feels to me like statistical misdirection. I mean …

Keith Hernandez is widely considered the best defensive first baseman in baseball history. He’s never even been on a Hall of Fame veteran’s ballot.

Jason Kendall stole more bases than any catcher of the last 100 years. He’s probably not going to the Hall of Fame.

Wes Ferrell hit the most home runs for any pitcher ever. He’s probably not going to the Hall of Fame.

By the way — do you know who is second all-time in home runs among second basemen? Hornsby? Morgan? Sandberg?

Uh. No. It’s Robinson Cano.

I just find this whole argument so shallow, and yet it has carried the day.

And maybe the worst part is — I do think second base is underrepresented in the Hall. Lou Whitaker and Bobby Grich are two of the most compelling Hall of Fame cases out there, and I think there’s a case for Willie Randolph, and I imagine Chase Utley will start getting some real support.

All of them were, in my view, quantifiably better than Jeff Kent.

Funny: I used to mock the old-time sportswriters and player types who gruffly say, “I know a Hall of Famer when I see one.”

Did ANYONE watch Jeff Kent play baseball and think, “Now THAT’S a Hall of Famer.”

Speaking of players who were better than Jeff Kent, we can’t just ignore the Barry Bonds thing. We all know why Kent got elected, and Bonds didn’t — there’s no reason to cover that ground again — but when you look at it as a baseball and sports fan, it’s beyond laughable. Barry Bonds wasn’t just many multiples the ballplayer that Jeff Kent was — I mean, managers walked Bonds many, many times so they could face Kent instead — there’s an argument to be made that Bonds MADE Kent.

Let’s not forget that Kent was 29 and utterly undistinguished when San Francisco got him, Jose Vizcaino and Julian Tavarez in a trade for Matt Williams — the trade was quite the scandal in the Bay Area.

“Jeff Kent and Jose Vizcaino have now been cast aside by two teams in less than six months,” San Francisco columnist Bruce Jenkins wrote. “They come as a pair, apparently. You can almost hear them getting booed in tandem.”

But Kent came to San Francisco and hit better than anyone could have possibly imagined. You think hitting behind the game’s greatest hitter helped him at all?

And now, the committee voted for Kent over Bonds for the Hall of Fame.

Pete Best over John Lennon for the Beatles Hall of Fame!

Hawkman over Superman for the Superhero Hall of Fame!

Fruitcake over pizza for the Food Hall of Fame!

The AMC Gremlin over the Porsche 911 for the car Hall of Fame!

Kent got 14 of the 16 votes. The only other person to get even half the votes was Carlos Delgado (nine votes), which shocked the heck out of me. I truly believe two things.

I mean, come on. Yes, he hit 473 home runs and drew a lot of walks. But, I mean, who didn’t in the 1990s? At his best, was Delgado a better hitter than Mo Vaughn? Albert Belle? Jason Giambi? Lance Berkman? Manny Ramirez? Gary Sheffield? Prince Fielder? Brian Giles? Ryan Howard? Travis Hafner?

Let me answer that: No. Not really. He lasted longer than most of those guys, and that’s what the 473 career homers are about, but I just can’t for the life of me figure out how the panel looked at this ballot with all-around talents (and former MVPs) Dale Murphy and Don Mattingly and voted for Delgado instead. It’s just weird to me.

But maybe it shouldn’t be. It’s all about the stats.

Browns Diary: Titans 31, Browns 29

OK, in lieu of a recap of this week’s regularly scheduled fiasco — I mean, the Browns lost to the worst team in football at home — let’s tackle a math problem! Math is fun!

With less than five minutes left in the game, the Browns trailed the Titans by 14 points. That’s when rookie quarterback Shedeur Sanders — who played his heart out — had a gutsy touchdown run to put the Browns down eight points.

So here’s the math problem: What do you do? Do you go for one or two?

This has been done before, but I ran my own numbers. This year, teams are successful on 44% of two-point attempts. And they are successful on 95% of extra points. So if you assume that overtime is a coin flip, then assuming the team scores another touchdown, their chances of winning:

Interesting! How does that math work? Well, basically, if you go for two and make it (44% chance) you win in regulation if you score that second touchdown. If you go for two and don’t make it, you still have a 44% chance of making the two-pointer the second time and sending the game into overtime.

Here is the formula:

P(win) = [ p (2 + q – p) ] / 2 = [ 0.44 (2 + 0.95 – 0.44) ] / 2 = [ 0.44 × 2.51 ] / 2 = 1.1044 / 2 = 0.5522 (≈ 55.2%)

BUT … that’s NFL math. And as a Cleveland Browns fan, you know that NFL math doesn’t apply to this team. So here’s the Cleveland Browns’ win probability if they go for two:

p_Browns = p(1 – F)(1 – T)

P(win) = [ p_Browns (2 + q – p_Browns) ] / 2 = [ 0 (2 + q – 0) ] / 2 = [ 0 × (2 + q) ] / 2 = 0 / 2 = 0.0000 (≈ Browns)

Where: F = probability of an immediate fumbled snap on the first two-point attempt = 1

T = probability that the rookie running back forgets to pitch the ball backward during an unnecessarily overcomplicated trick play on the second attempt = 1*

Huh! The Browns have a 0.0% chance of winning if they go for two! Interesting!

And that’s exactly the way it turned out because, yes, on the first two-point attempt, Sanders fumbled the snap. And on the second two-point attempt, the Browns tried some cockamamie reverse trick play that flopped when rookie Quinshon Judkins forgot to pitch the ball back. But it almost certainly wouldn’t have worked anyway.