My 2021 Hall of Fame Ballot

I've divided this up into three sections: My official ballot, my thoughts on players linked to PEDs, and particular players I feel I need to explain why they did not get my vote. With each player, I will link their Baseball-Reference page and I encourage you to read further about the player's candidacy on Fangraphs with pieces written by Jay Jaffe, inventor of JAWS and someone whose Hall of Fame opinion I highly respect.

My Ballot

1. Curt Schilling

At this point I think it’s clear Schilling had a Hall of Fame career. Most people who aren’t voting for him are not using his career stats as reason. His off-the-field life is actually the most common reason why the 30% of voters who left him off their ballot snubbed him. I’ll get to that in a little.

What’s interesting is this hasn’t always been the case. Schilling actually did relatively poorly when he first got on the ballot, going from 38.8% to 29.2% to 39.2% his first three years. He spiked up to around 50% his fourth year and stayed there from 2016 to 2018. In 2019, he jumped to 60.9% and then again jumped to 70.0% this past year. Now this is really interesting because people have hated Schilling only more over time. While it now appears that Schilling is an obvious Hall of Famer but has people strongly divided for other reasons, it appears people weren’t actually convinced he was a Hall of Famer. I think this is because he finished with only 216 wins and an ERA of 3.46, and was a late bloomer. He was pretty up-and-down early in his career before really kicking into another gear from ages 30 to 37.

To briefly put why Schilling is a Hall of Famer, he had a career WAR of 79.5, over 3000 strikeouts, topped 300 strikeouts in a season three times, had four top-5 Cy Young seasons, and compiled 53.6 WAR across eight seasons (his aforementioned age 30-37 years) in which he was truly one of the best pitchers in the game. He also has a real case for best postseason starting pitcher of the past 40 or so years. He doesn’t have quite the totals of Andy Pettitte (19-11, 3.81 ERA, 276.2 innings in 44 starts) or John Smoltz (15-4, 2.67 ERA, 209 innings in 41 games and 27 starts), but I would certainly take Schilling’s stats: 11-2, 2.23 ERA, 133.1 innings over 19 starts. Schilling also has the iconic moment as well, with his bloody sock game. Madison Bumgarner is the only other who I would contemplate over him.

So would I vote for him despite his controversy? Yes. We’ve all heard the character clause: “voting shall be based upon the player's record, playing ability, integrity, sportsmanship, character, and contributions to the team(s) on which the player played.” Personally I do not care how a candidate acted off-the-field. I would say it matters nothing to me but I can understand why it does matter to some; the character clause does exist. It just gets tricky with me to single out Schilling. There are so many bad people in the Hall of Fame already—people that we knew were bad when voting for them. It wasn’t some surprise that these people were bad. It’s also strange to see people say no to Schilling but then vote for bad people like Omar VizqueI, who is going through a nasty domestic violence allegation. I also don’t appreciate how the character is only used for negative examples. We can keep people out for bad character but not put people in for good character? I don’t think I have ever heard someone campaign for a player’s candidacy because of their good character. It goes without saying that Schilling is an awful person but I am able to look only at his playing career.

2. Todd Helton

Helton only got 29.2% last year but I am hoping for a big jump this year. With an emptier ballot this year and former Rockie Larry Walker now in, I’m excited, and Ryan Thibodaux’s HOF tracker shows him at over 50% of publicly released ballots. Helton is running into the same problem as Walker when Walker was on the ballot: his stats are great, people knew he was great and recognized him when he was playing, but that all gets discredited because of Coors Field when doing Hall of Fame evaluation.

It’s true, his splits are drastic: .345/.441/.607 at home and .287/.386/.469 on the road. You have to admit, the road numbers still look pretty good. His .316/.414/.539 career slash is pretty elite but gets dismissed because of Coors Field—we don’t have to do that because we have park-adjusted stats. His 133 career OPS+ shows that he was still pretty good.

From 2000-2005, his OPS+ was 158. Helton was ridiculous during that peak, slashing .344/.449/.626 and averaging 34 home runs and 7.0 WAR a year while earning three Gold Gloves, four Silver Sluggers, and five All-Star games. At a certain point, your numbers are just so good that people will recognize it, and all the accolades show that. Ultimately it is this peak that puts him on my ballot.

Additionally to Coors, I think a lot of voters only look at that peak and feel that the rest of his career is not enough. It is a real shame if that’s how they feel. Helton was still pretty good after that peak but not so much at the end; from 2010-2013, his OPS+ of 97 shows that he was now a average-to-below average hitter. A Hall of Famer tailing off into mediocrity for his age 36-39 seasons is completely forgivable to me—we know what he did beforehand. Helton also lost his power after turning 30 due to injury. This also contributes to voters feeling the second half of his career was underwhelming, since he only hit 118 homers after. Helton, however, continued to put up great batting averages and on-base percentages. Helton was great for long enough and his longevity checks out to me. I believe his most underrated skill was his eye: he has 1335 career walks to 1175 strikeouts. 17 seasons with one team is also very respectable, and while the Rockies are a young franchise, being their undisputed GOAT has to account for something. As far as character goes, he was a pretty beloved guy but also has multiple DUI incidents.

3. Billy Wagner

The Hall of Fame standard is certainly at a questionable point now when it comes to relievers. Relief pitchers have become such a huge part of the game that I believe people want to recognize them; it’s just difficult. Plenty of relievers have dominant stretches but quickly flame out. To make the Hall of Fame as a reliever, you need to be great for a long period of time, and that just eliminates a lot of great modern relievers.

Only two relief pitchers have been voted in since Dennis Eckersley, Bruce Sutter, and Goose Gossage: Mariano Rivera and Trevor Hoffman (Note: Lee Smith was also elected with the Veterans Committee, and I view his era more with the other guys). Rivera is undeniably the GOAT and the Hall of Fame standard should be well below what he accomplished. Hoffman wasn’t nearly as good but pitched for an incredibly long time and compiled 601 career saves. Judging this, I arbitrarily put the Hall of Fame standard as pitching as good or better than Trevor Hoffman for at least ten seasons. Like I said, a lot of pitchers were better than Hoffman, but his standard was longevity. If we required every HOF reliever to have 13 seasons of 30+ saves, no reliever might ever make the Hall again. I think ten is a nice threshold.

This brings us to Billy Wagner. If there were another relief pitcher to put in the Hall of Fame, it’s him. He has the longevity: 16 seasons pitched, 422 saves (6^th all time), nine seasons of 30+ saves. He has the dominance: among relievers with a minimum of 700 career innings pitched, his 33.2 K% is the best ever, his .184 batting average against him is the best ever, his 2.31 ERA only trails Rivera, and his 1.00 WHIP only trails Rivera. If you decrease the qualifier to 600 innings, it is only Kenley Jansen who passes him in WHIP, batting average against, and K%, and his ERA ranking remains the same. Those rankings are especially impressive when you consider he threw 903 innings. His WAR of 27.7 is basically identical to Hoffman (28.0). His converted save percentage of 85.9% could be higher but is still comparable to Hoffman’s 88.8%. His postseason stats were terrible (13 runs in 11.1 innings, 3 saves and 1 loss) but it didn’t come back to hurt his team as much as you’d think. I would like to see better postseason stats, even if it is harsh to criticize 11.1 innings, but Hoffman wasn’t amazing in the playoffs either. To me, this says that small-sample postseason success is not necessary for the standard.

When it comes to rate stats, Wagner was among the greatest. Did he do it long enough? Not as long as Hoffman, but long enough to me. Wagner meets my standard. I do believe he will get in eventually, especially as the best closers of the 2010’s fizzle out and it becomes clear that we may not have another Hall of Fame reliever like Wagner for a long time. Craig Kimbrel and Aroldis Chapman seem like the only ones with a shot. Kimbrel looked destined to become the second greatest ever, with 333 saves through his age 30 season and rate stats that would make Wagner blush. While Kimbrel has fallen off pretty hard (and as we hope he bounces back), Aroldis Chapman is still putting in good seasons as he approaches his later years—the longevity years that really define a reliever’s case. Kenley Jansen has also been great. We shall see if these three reset that standard again.

4. Scott Rolen

I will admit that I did not view Rolen as a Hall of Famer when he first appeared on the ballot, but I do now. His candidacy has probably gotten the biggest public push for support—very similarly to Edgar Martinez and Larry Walker in recent years.

Rolen is one of the best defensive third baseman of all time, something that everyone agrees on. The stories and stats back up Brooks Robinson, Mike Schmidt, and Graig Nettles, all guys who have the same three highlights shown every time for their best plays. Meanwhile, Nolan Arenado and Matt Chapman I get to see play in the present with more accurate analytics for their defensive prowess. Rolen is a very unique guy to me personally because I was too young to remember his prime years, yet he was recent enough to have lots of footage of his highlights. His highlight reel is very impressive, his 21.2 career defensive WAR is very impressive, and so are his eight Gold Gloves. Countless people in baseball praised him as a perfect defender. So the conversation starts there: his defense was legendary. That’s enough to start the conversation, just like it has been for Omar Vizquel and Andruw Jones.

Was his offense enough? I think this is where he originally lost people. He barely had over 2000 career hits. His career .281/.364/.490 is pretty much the perfect “really good but not great” hitting talent-level for the era he played in. He had three 30 homer seasons and three 130 OPS+ seasons. The hitting doesn’t feel like enough—until you emphasize his position and look at the Hall of Fame history there.

Rolen has a career WAR of 70.1. That alone has some people convinced. It’s almost a paradox to wonder how Rolen achieved a WAR over 70. He fizzled out pretty quick after his early 30’s. He had quite a few injury-plagued seasons, especially late in his career, but even during his prime with the Phillies and Cardinals. Rolen’s WAR total makes you think. Being a legendary defender, a good hitter, and a good baserunner at a position like third base is way more valuable than we realized.

So back to comparing him to Hall of Fame third baseman. That 70.1 WAR is tenth all-time for third basemen. He is also tenth all-time in JAWS. Schmidt, Mathews, Boggs, Brett, Jones, and Robinson are all legends, Beltre will get elected first ballot, Santo should have been a slam dunk, and Molitor is another great candidate, although he played more games as a DH. You realize how high the standard is at third base and how underrepresented it is as a position. The only thing between Rolen and the legends is another slam dunk Hall of Famer. When looking at him as a third basemen, he looks way more like Hall of Famer.

I understand that his case isn’t undisputable, but the more you look at his numbers, the more you read stories about him, the more you realize he is a Hall of Famer. His apparent lack of longevity (only 2038 games played, underwhelming hits and home run totals) is made up by his career WAR and accolades (eight Gold Gloves). His hitting was indeed good enough to me, good enough as an all-around player and better when compared to other defensive-focused candidates. At his peak, he was pretty much a guaranteed All-Star when playing enough games and even an MVP candidate, with his 2004 season being one of the greatest ever at his position.

5. Andruw Jones

There’s no one I’m more torn on than Andruw Jones. Jones played what many consider to be the best center field defense since Willie Mays and is one of the best defensive players of all time. In addition to his defense, he was a very good power hitter. He was a cornerstone of a Braves dynasty. He wasn’t an easy decision—a lot of people would argue that if you aren’t completely sure, then that guy isn’t a Hall of Famer—but this year, for now, I’m voting for him.

If I told you the greatest defensive center fielder of the past 50 years also hit 434 home runs, you’d guess that he was a Hall of Famer. If I told you someone won 10 Gold Gloves and had 7 seasons of 30 home runs, you’d guess that he was a Hall of Famer. What about a 10-year run with a Gold Glove every season, 345 home runs, and 57.6 WAR? Sounds like a Hall of Famer. Five seasons with a WAR over 6.0, a season with 51 homers, and a defensive reputation backed by Gold Gloves and advanced metrics? These are all great selling points.

By the time Jones entered his age-30 season, he had 342 home runs and 58.0 WAR. You would have been crazy to think he wasn’t destined for the Hall of Fame. 500 home runs, well over 2000 hits, 70 WAR all seemed inevitable. Some players are so great in their 20’s that we say they could have made the Hall no matter what—they could retire or play poorly or, most ideally, gradually decline and compile impressive totals. We said it about Pujols, who had 73.8 WAR before 30, Griffey (70.7), and now Trout (74.6, and oh yeah, he still has his age-29 season coming up). Was this the case for Jones?

Jones’ career took a hit after turning 30. He put up his worst hitting season before heading to the Dodgers, which was a disaster. Storylines of him being (noticeably) overweight and not caring left a sour taste in our mouths. He was worth only 4.7 WAR over his last six seasons. By the time he was bouncing between teams, he was a bench player mostly playing DH and corner outfield. The end of his career was not the mediocre but graceful sendoff that Helton and others had. His 1933 career hits feel wrong. His 30-homer seasons aren’t as impressive when you consider the era he did it, as well as his career 111 OPS+. He did not have a nice end to his career. His character clause is lacking as well with his pleading guilty to domestic violence.

So will I vote for him? In 2021, I confidently can. I like to see a nice longevity in a career with a peak of true dominance—that’s my Hall of Fame prototype. If that longevity isn’t there, like in Jones’ case, maybe I can forgive it if that player’s peak was long-lasting. In the end, I view his peak as Hall of Fame-level talent. For ten years, no small stretch by any means, he was one of the best defensive players of all-time. His offense during this peak might be overrated but it’s good enough for me—good enough with how great he was defensively and good enough when you consider how impressive his consistent good power was.

Am I voting for any steroid guys?

No.

With that alone, my ballot is going to be a lot shorter than most people’s—there are six people, who in some form, are connected to performance enhancing drugs. Four of them (Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Manny Ramirez, and Sammy Sosa) would easily make the Hall of Fame if there were no acknowledgement of PEDs. The fifth person, Gary Sheffield, probably would make it but I’m not sure if I would lump him in with the other slam dunks. The sixth person, Andy Pettitte, won’t make it with or without PED acknowledgement but would probably have more support without it.

I have seen so many different arguments about why a writer is voting for some of them but not others. The most common one I see is voting for Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens but none of the others. Both Bonds and Clemens got over 60% of the ballot last year. This year is their tenth and final year on the ballot. It gets argued that they were Hall of Fame players before they ever took PEDs, which is undoubtedly true. They were more than Hall of Fame talents; pre-PED versions of them were overqualified Hall of Famers. This argument implies to me that the voter is not looking at PEDs from a morality perspective, but rather a question mark of how truly talented that player was. Since we know they were legendary without PEDs, their talent evaluation gets a pass, unlike perhaps Sosa, who we don’t know if he would have been great without PEDs. I can respect this argument but it’s hard for me to “guess” how good all the other PED players would have been without PEDs, as well as project when other players started using PEDs.

The other argument used by people who support Bonds and Clemens is that they are simply too great to be left out. Bonds might be the greatest position player ever and Clemens might be the greatest pitcher ever. This is pretty simple and I can respect it. It still doesn’t address morality, which I am iffy on still. This is especially tricky when I see writers vote for Bonds and Clemens but snub Curt Schilling, when Bonds has spousal domestic violence allegations and Clemens has statutory rape allegations for when he dated Mindy McCready. The things that people will and will not say cross the line morally will always perplex me. Bonds and Clemens are also well regarded as legendary jerks in baseball.

Some people try to have a simple rule: did they ever test positive for PEDs? Manny Ramirez tested positive twice, can’t vote for him. I can respect this as well but it eventually starts bothering me. There is so much we don’t know. We know that Manny Ramirez has tested positive, so if I’m against steroid users in the Hall of Fame, it’s easy to not vote for him. What about David Ortiz? We think he tested positive in 2003, when MLB had its anonymous drug testing before enforcing suspensions the next year, but we don’t know for sure he was on that list. Is a rumored positive test equally bad as a confirmed positive test post 2004? What about someone like Sammy Sosa, who has never tested positive (besides rumors for the same 2003 test as Ortiz) and still swears he never took steroids, yet it seems so obvious he took PEDs? The positive test thing starts to unravel for me.

There are so many others. Did they use PEDs before 2003, when MLB first started testing? Do they get a pass? A lot of people say they do get a pass but then this brings up morality again for me. These people are implying that PEDs are immoral only if they are against the rules. I certainly don’t agree with that. The question then comes down to if I believe taking PEDs before 2003 is immoral. Personally, I’m still undecided. Brian Kenny has really convinced me that steroids were considered immoral by the public in the 1990’s. The Olympics tested for them, fans jeered players like Jose Canseco for allegations, players were trying to keep it a secret, minor league testing began in 2001, plus Commissioner Fay Vincent sent a memo in 1991 that PEDs were against the rules (but with no official rule enforced). Meanwhile players with heavy allegations like Ivan Rodriguez are already in the Hall of Fame. I’m just so torn.

Ultimately, it’s hard to have one rule to make it a yes or no. Meanwhile, if you look at them at a case-by-case basis, you are certainly going to contradict yourself at some point. If I feel like I can’t make a proper evaluation of these guys, then I’m still not ready to vote for them.

Who am I not voting for?

Jeff Kent

There have been several times that a player’s entire campaign came solely from one factoid. I get it, maybe that fun fact is going to be some eye-opener that’ll change everyone’s minds, but come on, you can’t have your entire argument based around one fun fact. With Tim Raines, you always heard that he had reached base more times in his career than Tony Gwynn, a first-ballot HOFer (his 2605 hits + 1330 walks + 42 HBP = 3977 times on base in 10359 plate appearances was indeed more than Gwynn’s 3141 hits + 790 walks + 24 HBP = 3955 times on base in 10232 plate appearances). This was a very gimmicky way to say that they had comparable career on-base percentages but Raines deserved to be in the Hall of Fame so I can forgive this one more easily.

Another one is that Dick Allen had a career 156 OPS+. This is the one fact you always hear, and I will admit it’s probably a higher number than most people thought. It’s also a shame Dick Allen isn’t in the Hall of Fame. This is probably the most impressive of all the “one fact campaigns” that I can think of and it’s pretty forgivable.

Another: Lou Whitaker has a career WAR of 75.1. Whitaker is a player that I don’t believe was ever great but he was really good for a really long time, with 15 seasons of a WAR of 3.0+. Once again, I find this one fairly forgivable because it does show that Whitaker’s case needs to be reconsidered. It’s incredible that he fell off the ballot his first year of eligibility. I’m still not sure if he belongs in the Hall of Fame; I’m someone who wants to see a peak of dominance in addition to the consistent longevity that Whitaker showed. Either way, there is more to examine in his case besides the simple belief that everyone with a WAR over 70 needs to be in the Hall of Fame. 

There is only one single-fact campaign worse than Jeff Kent’s, and that’s Jack Morris. This one was beat into the ground just as much Kent’s: no one had more pitcher wins in the 1980’s than Jack Morris. This one is a triple whammy for me because 1) It is gimmicky 2) Pitcher wins are not a good stat for evaluation 3) Jack Morris probably shouldn’t be in the Hall of Fame.

So here is Jeff Kent’s campaign: He hit more home runs than any second baseman. I really don’t understand this one. Kent hit 377 home runs in his career. This is a very low total compared to other positions; realizing he was a second baseman doesn’t make you suddenly view him as a legendary power hitter. Kent only topped 30 home runs in a season three times. He played in one of the biggest home run hitting eras in baseball history. When Ernie Banks had everyone’s attention in the 1950’s, it was because we had never seen a shortstop hit for power like that before. Banks was hitting 40+ bombs a year, breaking home run records for shortstops, leading the league in home runs—he even finished his career with 512 home runs. That is revolutionizing power at a position. Kent’s home run total feels more like a coincidence. He was a guy who hit 377 home runs who happened to play second base.

Omar Vizquel

Vizquel had 2,877 career hits and 11 Gold Gloves. That understandably has made him a very popular candidate but I do not view him the same way I view Rolen and Jones. Rolen and Jones were good hitters; Vizquel was not. His career 82 OPS+ shows he was pretty below average. His career hits total is very impressive but it’s clear that it’s from playing for a very long 24 seasons rather than dominating with the bat. Simply put, 2,877 is just the number you get when a .272 career hitter has 10,586 at-bats. By WAR and JAWS, Vizquel looks even less impressive. This is mostly due to advanced metrics not loving Vizquel’s defense as much as the general public. This is tough and hard to explain how metrics could say he was good, and at times great, but not legendary. Even if I give him slack there, he is too one-dimensional for me to vote in. Rolen and Jones were better all-around players, and their reputation was rewarded while playing: Rolen played in seven All-Star games, Jones five, and Vizquel just three. The same line of thinking applies now for the Hall of Fame. Character clause alert: he is also in a messy domestic violence dispute right now.