Jackie Robinson is among the most important figures in our nation's history because of the change signaled by his Major League Baseball career, and yet he didn't come close to gaining unanimous election to the Baseball Hall of Fame the year he was voted in. He was left off of 36 of 160 ballots. Willie Mays was somehow left off of 23 of 432 ballots. Hank Aaron retired as the all-time home run king, and he was omitted from nine of 415 ballots.
Nobody has ever been named on every ballot, although Ken Griffey Jr. came very close a few years ago, when he was included on 437 of 440 ballots.
But it appears that former New York Yankees closer Mariano Rivera has a legitimate shot. The conditions are ripe for a 100 percent voting record, although it's very possible that some writer already has decided to not include Rivera on his or her ballot. But what are the reasons why?
• His career record is, of course, spectacular, and he will easily gain election. Of all of the pitchers who have thrown enough innings to qualify, starters and relievers, Rivera has the lowest Adjusted ERA+ in baseball history, at 205. He mustered a 2.21 ERA in 1,115 games, with only 286 walks in 1,283⅔ innings. Think about this: From 1996 through his final season of 2013, he had one year among those 18 when his ERA drifted over 3.00. He is the all-time leader in saves, with 652. Rivera had 276 more saves in his career than the reliever who is second all time in the American League, Joe Nathan.
• The voters are more enlightened and a little less ridiculous. You might disagree with that premise if you are a fan of Barry Bonds or Roger Clemens or Curt Schilling, but almost all of the Hall of Fame, MVP and Cy Young ballots in recent years have demonstrated that the vast majority of voters take this process very seriously. They aren't endeavoring to be That Guy -- the person who doesn't cast a ballot for a particular candidate merely to be different or to draw attention. My sense is that the generations of voters who won't put someone's name on a ballot in the first year of eligibility just because that's the way it's always done have moved along.
• Transparency. Although we still don't know the identity of the three writers who didn't vote for Ken Griffey Jr., or why, almost all voters publish their ballots and provide explanations for their choices. That layer of accountability, with the additional scrutiny of social media, makes it more difficult for someone to cast a ridiculous ballot -- like in the 1947 MVP voting, when Ted Williams was left off a ballot, and the winner, Joe DiMaggio, was left off of three ballots.
• The "Rule of 10" ballot logjam has eased. No single ballot can have more than 10 players on it, and in recent years voters have determined the fate of a high volume of candidates. Four players were inducted last summer, and three in 2016, and some linked to PED use -- like Rafael Palmeiro and Mark McGwire -- have fallen off the ballot. It's likely that a lot of writers won't need to drop any players -- or as many -- whom they consider to be Hall of Famers off their ballot merely because of the Rule of 10.
This could be pivotal in determining whether Rivera or any other player earns unanimous selection, because some voters have dealt with the logjam in recent years by being strategic with their ballots -- picking players who are less likely to be selected instead of those who are considered locks. It's within the realm of possibility that this is what happened with Griffey Jr. -- that three writers chose to vote for more-needy candidates.
• The "no PED suspicion" box is checked. Rivera has never been linked through any suspension, investigation or reporting to performance-enhancing drugs.
• The universal respect for Rivera. Through the years, a very small number of colleagues have admitted to me that they didn't include a particular player on their ballot -- even superstar, slam-dunk candidates -- because of personal interaction. Maybe the player was a jerk or maybe the writer witnessed the player doing something untoward off the field or maybe the writer just didn't like the guy.
Rivera was uniformly cooperative with reporters in his time as a player and was regarded as a model teammate. One longtime Yankee said in conversation at the end of Rivera's career that the pitcher pretty much was the same guy he was as a rookie -- polite, gregarious, helpful, sincere. Even in the worst of times -- after infamously blowing leads in the postseason in 2001 and 2004, for example -- he conducted himself with the utmost professionalism, answering wave after wave of questions.
• He was a difference-making player. Over Rivera's nearly two decades in the majors, some of the other elite teams had major turnover at closer, especially in the postseason; the Yankees had the same guy. There are former players from the great Atlanta Braves teams who believe that if they had been lucky enough to have Rivera, they would've been the dynasty, rather than the Yankees.
• His record (yes, take another look). Rivera is arguably the greatest postseason performer ever. Because he was always charged with the responsibility of pitching in the highest-pressure moments October after October after October, he was on the mound for some of the most memorable lead changes in history. But part of why we remember that Arizona Diamondbacks comeback in Game 7 of the 2001 World Series is because it came against Rivera. Schilling has told the story of when the Yankees took the lead late in that game, and his first fearful thought on the mound was: Rivera is coming into the game, and it's over.
Rivera pitched the equivalent of two full regular seasons in the postseason -- 141 innings, over 96 games -- and in that time, Rivera allowed only 86 hits. Facing the best hitters in the most important games, he had an 0.70 ERA. Time and again, manager Joe Torre used him for multiple innings, and time after time, Rivera posted zeroes.
Rivera allowed a total of two postseason homers -- to Sandy Alomar in the 1997 playoffs and to Jay Payton in the 2000 World Series. That's it. Two homers in 141 postseason innings. He had an 8-1 won-loss record and 42 saves in 47 chances.
We'll know soon enough if some voter (or a small handful) will find flaws in Rivera's career or in the system or his candidacy. If that happens, an explanation should be provided.