Sixty-seven days until pitchers and catchers … and here’s your daily splash of joy.

Why do you love baseball?

Brilliant Reader Travis: “The feeling I get when I turn onto Miller Park Way in Milwaukee. You can feel the buzz of excitement. The smell of charcoal grills in the parking lot. Dads (and moms) playing catch, or bag toss, with their kids. The busloads of people unloading to set up their massive tailgates. The sound of a cold one being cracked open. Every time I’m blessed with the chance to go, I get as giddy as I used to when I was just a kid.”

Brilliant Reader Andy: “How 90 feet between the bases is still perfect. A ground ball to short, if well-fielded, still gets the hitter out by a step.”

Brilliant Reader Bob: “Snagging a foul ball during a Florida State League game at Vero Beach and giving it to my date, who turned out eventually to be my wife.”

Brilliant Reader Terry: Here I am with the great Bob Feller at Cleveland Municipal Stadium, probably early 1980s.

Joe: I interviewed Bob Feller many times over the years, and it was always memorable for all sorts of reasons, but my favorite was when I was a columnist in Augusta. He was coming to town for a minor-league appearance, and I interviewed him by phone to promote his appearance. At the end of the interview, he said, “OK, I get to the airport at 2 p.m. Don’t be late picking me up. I don’t like waiting.” At that moment, I had two choices.

Choice 1: Remind him that I was a newspaper columnist, and it wasn’t my actual job to pick him up from the airport.

Choice 2: Get there by 2 p.m.

Obviously, you know I was right on time.

If you would like to send in the reason why you love baseball, we’d love to hear it. And in that spirit, we’re also now collecting photos and artwork too — old snapshots, ballpark scenes, favorite scorecards, kids’ drawings, ticket stubs, whatever captures the joy of the game for you. Some people are sending song lyrics. Some are sending poems. It’s utterly wonderful. Just send along your baseball joy to [email protected].

This morning — or, I guess, late last night, depending on when you believe morning starts — I sent in our final, no take-backsies edit of BIG FAN. That’s it. The hay is in the barn, or the hay is out of the barn, or whatever that cliché is. My father-in-law is a Kansas farmer, and I still have never quite figured out that saying.

Anyway, I know I’ve said this before, and I will definitely say it again, but rereading BIG FAN multiple times as I’ve had to over the last few weeks has been an experience unlike any I’ve had as an author. Usually, I spend these editing weeks lamenting choices and panicking quietly and wishing I could start all over again. It’s a passing thing — I’m very proud of every book I’ve ever written — but this is just the price for seeing your work finished. What was once an ethereal thing, a dream, with infinite possibility, is now on paper, black and white, and it can never be as exciting or brilliant as it seemed in the imagination.

But BIG FAN — I’m more delighted by it every time I read it. I’m sure this is in part because half of it is written by Mike Schur. But it’s also because the book is so chock full of adventures and happy twists and silly asides and genuine fun that I find myself constantly thinking, “OH YEAH, I forgot we did that.”

Don’t get me wrong — I’m still lamenting choices and slightly panicking and wishing we could start all over again. That’s just baked into the writing process. But I feel so sure that this book will make people laugh and smile and think about their own fandom — I feel so sure that this book will brighten days — that with every read, I just feel more excited about its release on May 19.

You can, of course, preorder now — we are pre-signing thousands and thousands of copies for Joseph-Beth and Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million, and Indigo (for our Canadian readers!) — and I’ll be announcing a pretty cool giveaway so save your receipt!

I’m planning on doing a full breakdown of the Contemporary Era Hall of Fame Ballot tomorrow in The Clubhouse — our joyful little corner of readers who make JoeBlogs possible; you can join The Clubhouse now or give a membership as a gift for $10 off — but I wanted to spend a quick moment this morning talking about my friend Dale Murphy.

You might be aware that there’s a group out there called Dale Murphy to the Hall pushing hard for his election. As a longtime Dale Hall of Fame booster, I very much appreciate the effort. They’ve put out a few videos, including this one narrated by country music star Jason Aldean and written by my old pal Wright Thompson.

And three videos narrated by Ernie Johnson about 1982, 1983 and 1987 — so delightful since Ernie’s father was the WTBS broadcaster then. Here’s the 1982 one:

And this one, narrated by Jake Murphy, Dale’s son:

These folks reached out to me to help as well, and I have tried to do so. Over the years, I have been unofficially involved in some Hall of Fame campaigns I deeply believed in. I couldn’t tell you at all if my role had anything to do with anything, but I can tell you that some of those campaigns have been successful (Lefty Driesell to the Basketball Hall of Fame, Minnie Miñoso and, of course, Buck O’Neil to the Baseball Hall of Fame) and others have not (Otis Taylor to the Football Hall of Fame).

And all of it has me thinking about Hall of Fame campaigns in general. On Sunday, a group of 12 people — Hall of Famers Fergie Jenkins, Juan Marichal, Tony Pérez (who called me personally to thank me for promoting his Hall of Fame case), Ozzie Smith, Alan Trammell and Robin Yount, executives Mark Attanasio, Doug Melvin, Arte Moreno*, Kim Ng, Tony Reagins and Terry Ryan, and media members/historians Steve Hirdt, Tyler Kepner and Jayson Stark — will get into a room this weekend and decide which, if any, of the eight players on the ballot belongs in Cooperstown.

*I’ll have more to say about this tomorrow, but THANK GOODNESS Arte Moreno is on this committee. I don’t know if Jimmy Haslem, John Fisher, Dan Snyder and Donald Sterling weren’t available, but alas Moreno will have to handle the represent the worst owners in sports demographic all by himself.

Will they be moved by the Murphy to the Hall campaign? I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, everyone on this committee, every single one of them, knows exactly how good a player Dale Murphy was. There is nothing in any of these promotional videos that would surprise them, inform them, or remind them.

In fact, I’ve actually heard some backlash to the campaign — two people who are very much involved specifically told me they didn’t at all like the way the Aldean/Wright video begins:

“The Eras Committee is designed to make sure that every era in America’s pastime is fairly represented in the Hall of Fame,” Aldean says. “So let’s talk about an era that defined the childhoods and formed the young adulthood of millions of boys and girls.”

Beautifully written and said. And I hope it breaks through. But …

“That’s not at all what The Eras Committees were designed to do,” one of the people told me. “The Hall of Fame’s mission has nothing at all to do with representing every era. It has only to do with honoring excellence, whatever the era.”

“Yeah, they got that part entirely wrong,” the other said. “The Eras Committees were created only so that we can compare players to others in their time. I’m sympathetic to their cause, I really am, but it’s difficult to take the argument seriously when you start off by misrepresenting what the Hall of Fame is trying to do.”

Then I started to think: But is the campaign really trying to convince those Hall of Fame voters?

Or is it going for something more?

Here’s my Dale Murphy argument, one I’ve made dozens of times: For eight years, 1980-1987, he was a no-doubt, slam-dunk, Hall of Famer. He won two MVPs, five Gold Gloves, became just the sixth player in baseball history to have a 30-30 season, hit more home runs than anyone except Mike Schmidt, scored more runs than anyone but Rickey Henderson, played in more games than anyone, period, and played in seven All-Star Games, starting five of them. He was beloved and famous and widely regarded by millions as the best player in baseball — John Thorn has always thought “Fame” should play a much bigger role in Hall of Fame thinking.

And was a credit to the game.

Always a credit to the game. Nice. Kind. Decent. Always.

When you look at the famous Hall of Fame voting rules …

“Voting shall be based upon the player’s record, playing ability, integrity, sportsmanship, character, and contribution to the team(s) on which he played.”

… I kind of wish the Murphy-to-the-Hall folks had made a video highlighting each and every one of those criteria. Because Murph hits the heights on all of them.

Look, Dale Murphy is not in the Hall of Fame because those eight years basically made up his whole career. Dale is a big man — listed at 6-foot-4, 210 pounds — and he played hard, and he averaged 161 games per year from 1982-87, the vast majority of them in center field. He wore himself out. He posted 42.4 WAR in those eight years. He posted 4.1 WAR for the rest of his career. I don’t think that should matter. I think eight years of greatness make a Hall of Famer career. I don’t think you should have to surround that with eight years of meh just to punch up the career numbers.

Do I think Dale has a shot? Well, I don’t want to give too much away — tomorrow, I’ll try to list the candidates in order of their Hall of Fame chances — but I want to circle back to those Dale to the Hall videos. The day Buck O’Neil was passed over for the Hall of Fame in February 2006, he called me. I was walking through a bookstore, and I answered, and Buck said this:

“I want you to do me a favor,” he said. “I want you to thank the people of Kansas City. … I’ve never felt more loved.”

I don’t know if Dale Murphy will get elected to the Hall of Fame. But I hope — and believe — that he feels loved. And that matters even more.

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