Let something positive result from 99.7 PercentGate.
Don’t let anyone hide behind ridiculous rationales.
That is my wish as we begin to move past Derek Jeter’s controversial showing, announced Tuesday, in the Baseball Hall of Fame’s writers ballot. Barring a dramatic reversal of course by the Hall, my wish will not be commanded. Might as well air our grievances, though, right?
Jeter, who appeared Wednesday afternoon at a Manhattan news conference along with his fellow electee Larry Walker, set a record of sorts by getting 396 of 397 votes from the writers. Never before had a player received such a high total, the aforementioned 99.7 percent, without attaining outright perfection — which Jeter’s old pal Mariano Rivera did last year, becoming the first and only such honoree.
The surprising result — the “No” voter has not declared her or himself, thereby bequeathing us a mystery we might never solve — predictably set social media aflame, with even O.J. Simpson checking in on Twitter (“He’s probably from Boston”), and transcended by many miles the standard audience for a Hall of Fame story. As a BBWAA voter myself, I received several text messages from associates both professional and personal who wanted to know 1) whether I was the No vote, and 2) if I wasn’t, who was. The answers were 1) No, I wasn’t and 2) the shrug emoji.
Though I love a good imbroglio as much as the next person, I think this is wrong. Voting for the Hall of Fame represents a privilege that should be treated with the utmost seriousness. Enough seriousness that you should own your choices, put yourself out there, explain your thinking. Hey, who knows? Maybe the Jeter No Voter came up with an argument that will put the other 396 of us to shame — just like that episode of “The Simpsons” when Homer, having gained sudden intelligence, proves that a higher power doesn’t exist.
Alas, the folks who run the Hall of Fame actively disagree. A few years ago, the Baseball Writers’ Association of America voted, at our winter meetings get-together, to divulge all of our Hall votes. We delivered that vote to the Hall and were told, essentially, thanks but no thanks.
Jane Forbes Clark, chairman of the Hall’s board, explained to me the group’s thinking: Concern emerged that a required disclosure would impact people’s decisions. Some writers personally reached out to her, Clark added, and expressed reservations about this practice.
This most certainly serves as a respectful disagreement. After all, if the Jeter No Voter’s name was known, there might be a need for security for that person, given the anger of some folks out there. I concede that when I fill out my ballot, knowing that I’ll release it, I contemplate the reaction by the masses. And remember, it’s not like the voter knew that literally everyone else would vote for Jeter. This person found out at the same time as the rest of us.
On the flip side? All of the voters are journalists, who make a living by holding people accountable. It seems rather hypocritical to do that then not account for your own actions in the public arena. And gosh, it does confound how someone cannot vote for Jeter, or for Ken Griffey Jr. in 2016. Sunlight can be a mighty effective disinfectant.
Jeter, still as consistent as the morning rooster, tagged out Wednesday, just as he did Tuesday, when asked if he wanted to know the No Voter’s identity.
“See, that’s where our minds are a little bit different,” he said. “I focus on the ones that did [vote for me]. It takes a lot of people to all agree to get you to this point. So I’m not thinking about that. I’m happy to be sitting up on this stage right now, and that’s something that just doesn’t cross my mind.”
If not his mind, it’s crossing plenty of others. We’d like to know. And we’d like to be assured that people aren’t treating a privilege like a pool toy. Here’s hoping that the Hall, no matter how good its intentions, reconsiders.