When George Steinbrenner lorded over the Yankees, a local businessman would often show up at Yankee Stadium as the guest of The Boss, to sit in the owner’s box, take in a ballgame and chat. It made sense that long before Donald Trump ran for office, he and Steinbrenner were friends. Because back in the ‘70s and ‘80s, it was as if Steinbrenner created the mold through which Trump’s national image would flourish two decades later: a pushy, attention-starved millionaire who operated temperamentally and lived on the cover of the New York tabloids -- Steinbrenner

Before the politics -- just take the politics out of it, please -- Steinbrenner was Trump before Trump became Trump. Decades before the first episode of The Apprentice, Steinbrenner made famous the phrase “You’re fired” in a national beer campaign, guest-hosting "Saturday Night Live," posing on horseback as King George for the cover of Sports Illustrated, making the rounds on late-night talk shows. Steinbrenner’s personality was so ingrained in popular culture that Jerry Seinfeld made Steinbrenner a recurring character in arguably most famous sitcom in television history.

No owner in North American professional sports has made a bigger dent in the public psyche than the polarizing Steinbrenner, and whether you loved him or couldn’t stand him -- and for most baseball fans, it was the latter -- you couldn’t possibly ignore him. This is why it’s somewhat incredible and more than a little ridiculous that the late George Steinbrenner is not acknowledged with a plaque at the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York.

Steinbrenner is among the candidates being considered today and tomorrow by the Today’s Game committee for election to the Hall, along with Bud Selig, John Schuerholz, Mark McGwire, Lou Piniella and others.

If you tried to explain the 1970s, ‘80s and ‘90s in Major League Baseball -- if you tried to tell the history of the sport -- you could not do it without talking about the role of George Steinbrenner, unless you chose to willfully ignore his impact.

The same is true with longtime union leader Marvin Miller, by the way. Miller could be relentlessly vain and nasty, and he lived a lot of his life as the archenemy of baseball management. But Miller altered the trajectory for the sport -- mostly for the better -- in eliminating the reserve clause and in building the business model (most notably free agency) that has helped to generate interest and billions of dollars. Miller’s legacy is undeniable, and he should have a plaque at the Hall of Fame.

Because first and foremost, the Hall is a museum, an accounting of the sport’s history, and Steinbrenner was a key figure. He bought the Yankees at a time when baseball’s most famous franchise was dormant -- Steinbrenner’s share of the purchase was $800,000 -- and almost immediately, he turned the Yankees into a success, bending and breaking rules and wrecking the perception of how an executive should comport himself. The Yankees won the World Series seven times in his 38 years as the team’s owner, and through his rants and managerial dismissals and suspensions, he brought enormous attention to baseball, clearly raising the level of competition through his sometimes impetuous and failed pursuit of superstars.

He could be vicious, a cheat, a liar, as well as gracious and generous. He could be incredibly cheap, cutting dental benefits while squandering millions and millions of dollars on rash transactions -- and making money all the while. There is really no way to know what the Yankees would sell for until they actually reached the market, but if you made a very, very conservative estimate of $2 billion -- which is about what the Dodgers sold for -- then the Yankees’ worth is about 2,500 times greater than Steinbrenner’s initial investment.

The values of other teams have climbed dramatically, as well, along with the salaries of players, naturally pushed upward by the desire of owners to win -- and no owner spent more money trying to win than Steinbrenner.

Sure, he could be a lout, and yes, he was never a candidate for employer of the month. But he was to Major League Baseball what Cornelius Vanderbilt, John D. Rockefeller and Andrew Carnegie were to the United States’ financial system. Every time a committee ignores his place in history makes that committee's work a little less credible.

• Bud Selig gets his shot at Hall of Fame induction this weekend.