Joe Henderson
I am one of 397 persons who cast a ballot for this year’s Baseball Hall of Fame class. For the record, I am not the sole soul who did not vote for Derek Jeter. It’s not my fault he missed being a unanimous selection by one vote. 
I wish all decisions on the HOF ballot were as easy as voting for Jeter. Alas, most of them are a lot more complicated.
First, here’s some background. I remain eligible to vote because I was a member of the Baseball Writers Association of America for at least ten years. I covered the expansion Tampa Bay Devil Rays as a beat writer, and then later observed the team as a sports columnist for The Tampa Tribune.
It remains some of my most enjoyable time as a sports writer.
The writers I know who vote take that responsibility seriously. I know I do. It’s not something we just slap-dash together. It involves a lot of research and judgment.
We can vote for up to 10 players each year. This year, I voted for eight: Jeter (duh), Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Andruw Jones, Manny Ramirez, Curt Schilling, Omar Vizquel, and Larry Walker.
Walker also was elected. Schilling came close and probably will get in next year.
What was my logic in these votes?
Let’s start with the most controversial: Bonds, Clemens, and Ramirez. They bear the scarlet “S” from baseball’s notorious steroid scandal of the late 1990s.
All three would have been Hall of Fame members by now if it hadn’t been for steroids. Bonds was the most dynamic player of his era, a lithe, cat-quick, multi-tooled player before he bulked up to the size of the Michelin Tire man and became baseball’s all-time home run leader.
Many voters will never forgive him for that, and I’ll concede the record is tainted. But he also had five years starting in 1993 where he averaged nearly 40 home runs per season. That was before the stench of steroids overtook the game.
Conversely, when I looked at players like Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire, their home totals skyrocketed well beyond their norm for four years, where steroid use presumably was at its peak. When you prorate those numbers to what they averaged before and after the steroid era, their numbers aren’t nearly as striking.
Clemens, meanwhile, had four his seven Cy Young Awards before 1998, when steroid use reportedly became widespread.
I labored most over choosing Ramirez, who finished with 555 home runs but also two suspensions for drug violations. One of those was with the Rays at the end of his career in 2011.
I made a judgment call. Who knows, maybe year my judgment changes on him.
Vizquel got my vote because I believe he was heads above the field as a shortstop. He was where ground balls went to die.
Jones, I believe, similarly doesn’t get enough credit for extraordinary defense. He won 10 consecutive Gold Glove awards with Atlanta, and that counts a lot for me.
Confession time: If I had one do-over, I’d include Tampa’s Gary Sheffield on my ballot. I think some off-field controversies hurt his chances, but he was as ferocious a competitor as anyone of his era.
He will be on my ballot next year.
I inevitably receive much feedback and email about my choices, and it’s not all positive. That’s OK by me because it shows the passion people have for this game.
I have attended two Hall of Fame induction ceremonies in Cooperstown, N.Y. I watched Tampa’s Wade Boggs, — who I watched at Tampa Plant High School, get his plaque. It was enormously memorable. All baseball fans should find a way to go. Visit the HOF museum. See the plaques of the greatest of the greats who played this grand old game. Remember what it was like when you fell in love with the game.
It’s history, and for people like me of a certain age, it’s a reminder of what this game means to the country.
Yeah, I’m a Hall of Fame voter, and I’m proud of that.
It doesn’t mean my selections are always correct, even though I did my best to make them so.
At least I voted for Jeter. It just seemed like the thing to do.
