COOPERSTOWN, N.Y. -- In advance of what has become my favorite weekend on the calendar, I drove into Cooperstown on Wednesday. This was on my own time, before I started my work for ESPN, as I wanted a chance to show my traveling companion around and see the town before the hordes arrived.
On the latter point, the notion was only partially successful because when it comes to baseball, something is always happening in Cooperstown this time of year. There were a gaggle of youth teams with their families touring the Hall and investigating the baseball-themed gift shops up and down Main Street. There were plenty of Hall of Fame visitors of a more freelance sort around as well, many of them trying to get their fix in before the crowds descended. Locals were talking of an influx of more than 100,000 for this weekend's events because of the inductions of Mike Mussina and, especially, Mariano Rivera, with Yankees fans making the easy trip up from the city.
Coming here is never exactly an accurate gauge of the sport's place in the general zeitgeist. If you landed here, on the shores of Otsego Lake, and this is all you knew of our planet, you would think that everything in this civilization revolves around attacking a little white orb with a blunt object. And those who are best at it are somehow or another elevated to a god-like mythical status. Reality and myth indeed walk side by side in Cooperstown, especially on this very special weekend in late July. (Though not as late as it used to be, as the inductions were moved up this year in hopes of separating the interests of those obsessed with the Hall and others more tuned into trade deadline activity.)
Everything that unfolds from Friday to Monday will be aimed at celebrating the careers of Rivera, Mussina, Edgar Martinez, Roy Halladay, Harold Baines and Lee Smith. Come Sunday evening, we'll officially have six new immortals commemorated in the plaque gallery of the Hall, a big class, to be sure. However, a couple of days before the festivities got going, my mind was on the Hall of Fame in general as I poked around. Here are some observations.
1. This weekend will be bittersweet.
The loss of Halladay in a plane accident less than two years ago will have a large emotional effect on the days to come. We knew this already, but now that the time has nearly arrived, you can already see signs of how his absence will mark this induction weekend.
Those selected for the Hall make an initial visit to Cooperstown each year and visit the plaque gallery, where they will forever join the likes of Ruth, Gehrig, Clemente, Mays, Mantle and Aaron. There are blank, plaque-shaped slates of marble hanging on the walls where the new enshrinees' likenesses will be hung. Each new honoree signs this backing as if saving his place. This year, the signatures of Rivera, Mussina, Smith, Baines and Martinez have been proudly scribbled. But the spot above Martinez's and to the left of Mussina's remains a blank slate. This will be where Halladay's plaque will hang.
In the museum, after you've snaked through all of the mesmerizing exhibits, they have displays set up to honor each new inductee. Here, in advance of induction weekend, Halladay is as present as the others. There is a No. 34 Phillies jersey with its back facing outward and a No. 32 Blue Jays jersey facing frontward. There's a Phils cap and Halladay's two Cy Young awards.
I wanted to take a photo of each new display but at Halladay's stall, a young man in a Star Trek T-shirt (man after my own heart) lingered for a long time. A very long time. He read every card listing Halladay's feats and studied every piece of memorabilia. I waited at a good distance so as to not rush him, and I didn't want to take the photo with him in it. Finally, after a while, he brushed the glass cover of the display with his fingertips and exited the room, without looking at the other stalls.
I'm not sure what that young man was thinking, but I suspect there will be many more like him experiencing something very similar in the days ahead.
2. It'll be Mo's weekend.
The weekend is for everybody, but you get the feeling Rivera will elicit the most passion from the gathering this weekend, both from a fan and a media standpoint. Two reasons: He's the first unanimous selection to the Hall. And he's Mariano Rivera, a distinction that wins him respect for many reasons that are tangential to baseball as well as for what he did on field itself as the game's best relief pitcher.
One of the first things I noticed upon arrival was that the marquee on the old theater along Main Street -- now one of the ubiquitous gift shops along the avenue -- featured the words, "ENTER SANDMAN 100% UNANIMOUS." Rivera gear will move swiftly on Main Street and Metallica will be everywhere. Every new inductee will get his moment in the sun, but the hills rolling out from the backyard of the Clark Sports Complex will be jammed with pinstripe-wearing Rivera fans.
Then, next year, they and probably many more will be back for Derek Jeter, who, by the way, is rumored to be a probable attendee at Sunday's ceremony.
3. The Bonds limbo continues to cloud everything.
I've written about this before, but it still grates on me, so I'll describe it again. In the room of the Hall of Fame's museum where records and milestones are recognized, there is an expansive display recounting Hank Aaron's 755 home runs. I have no problem with this, as you'd expect. In the sappy-but-wonderful film they show in the theater at the museum about baseball's hold on our hearts, Aaron says that when he was going for Babe Ruth's record, he didn't want anyone to forget Babe Ruth. He just wanted people to remember Henry Aaron. And we will remember Aaron. He deserves the attention his display demands in Cooperstown and much more.
We'll never forget Ruth, either, whose presence is all over the Hall. He also has a large display about his 714 homers, plus another entire section of a gallery devoted to his career and role in our culture. In the plaque room, there are two life-size statues side by side of players swinging a bat -- Ruth and Ted Williams. At the entrance to the art gallery, there is an enormous portrait of a young Babe so meticulous it looks like a high-resolution photograph. No, there's not many baseball fans who are going to forget the Babe, especially if they ever make the trip to Cooperstown. I'm not sure anyone deserves as much attention as Ruth still gets, but it wouldn't be a Hall of Fame without a healthy dose of No. 3.
As for Bonds ... it's pretty apparent the good folks in Cooperstown, not to mention the former commissioner of baseball, would like to forget Bonds ever existed. Let's forget the debate about whether Bonds should be or ever will be elected to the Hall. Let's just look at how he's treated in the museum.
Tucked away around the corner on a column in the room where the records are celebrated, between the much larger displays of Aaron and Ruth, there is a representation of No. 762. Which is, if you're not aware, Bonds' career home run total, and which, as it happens, is higher than any other player's in history.
In front of the column there is a small case that primarily has just two items in it. One is a signed Bonds batting helmet from the night he hit No. 756. The other is a cap and it's not even one of his -- it's a Nationals hat that belonged to Mike Bacsik, who gave up the record dinger. Other than that, there's a placard that notes the date and states that, with the homer, Bonds moved into first place on the all-time home run list -- without calling it historic or even that it broke Hank Aaron's record -- and then goes right into the PED aspect of it and then into the nature of baseball statistics and why you can't just take away events that happened.
But that's exactly what they are trying to do with the way Bonds' home run record is acknowledged. I've suggested that whomever you want to call the home run king, you can make an objective case -- whether it's Ruth, Bonds, Aaron or even Japan's Sadaharu Oh. Still, no matter how much one might want to wish it away, no one can change the fact that Bonds has hit more MLB home runs than anyone.
This was all in place before this year, but then Bud Selig came out with his autobiography and went on a promo tour in support of it. He has talked about how miserable Bonds' quest made him because, among other things, he is a friend of Aaron's and didn't feel that Bonds was likable. (Which many others have echoed, but that observation should bear about zero weight when assessing his Hall case.) He also has stated flatly that he still considers Aaron the true home run king. I would argue that not only is this a heck of a line of thinking for someone who was the head-honcho owner during the time the conditions that led to the PED era ripened, but it's just flat out not the kind of subjective ranting you want in a commissioner, current or former.
Anyway, you might agree with me it's a travesty Bonds hasn't been elected, or you might not. We're not going to change each other's mind. There are other omissions it might be more productive to debate right now -- Minnie Minoso, Marvin Miller, Buck O'Neil, Ted Simmons, just to start -- but as long as Bonds and Roger Clemens are left out, the hallowed halls of Cooperstown risk being overshadowed by who is not there and by attempts to pretend that what happened on the field of play in competition did not in fact take place. And if there is a place where shadows do not belong, it's the Baseball Hall of Fame.
4. And ... spare me.
Self-righteousness is not a trait I deal with very well. Which, in some way, might mark me as self-righteous, and that's kind of frustrating. There are several stations in the Hall dealing with issues or famous debates in which you can weigh in and answer a series of questions to see where you land on the topic, as well as where the consensus of all others who have answered the questions have fallen. There's one on the DH that is fun, another on the history of labor issues that is, frankly, laden with loaded questions. And then there is one on the PED issue that falls way short.
Here's the one that gets me: You're asked in one question whether you would ever take PEDs to help your career. The options are something like "I'd do what I have to do" or "I'd stay clean." I'm paraphrasing from memory here, but I'm pretty sure somewhere in the questions the word "purity" is mentioned. According to the display, 82% of the fans who answered the question said they would never take PEDs.
My response to that is, well, it's profane. My other response is that I don't believe you.
5. The Diz
A Dizzy Dean jersey still hangs in a prominent place in the museum and whenever I encounter it, I still start to feel a little misty. He was the hero of the first books I ever read, and seeing the actual garment he once donned affects me in a way that isn't entirely logical. That is what the Hall of Fame is all about.
Extra Innings
1. This week, Chicago's new mayor, Lori Lightfoot, put out a list of potential locations for a long-discussed casino in the city. One of the potential spots is on the other side of the freeway from Guaranteed Rate Field on the near south side, a property owned by the city that once contained the towering public housing high rises that were across from the park when it first opened.
We'll see if it happens, but this eventually could play into the long-term future of the White Sox in Chicago at 35th and Shields, where they've played since the original Comiskey Park opened in 1912. Mainly, if that project were to come to fruition at that spot, it could turbocharge an area of Chicago that is already growing fast.
At the moment, the White Sox have a deal with the state to maintain the current ballpark that runs out in 2029, at which point the park -- a much-improved venue from its early days that nevertheless still feels like a missed opportunity -- will have 39 seasons under its belt. That's longer than most big league ballparks have lasted, with the only exceptions being some of our most beloved venues.
There hasn't been much written recently about the ChiSox's long-term future, and perhaps it's too soon to be worrying about it. But, after all, 10 years goes by fast and it might be time to start musing over some possibilities. There is a lot we don't know, the big item being the future owner. Jerry Reinsdorf is 83 years old and no one I've talked to in Chicago seems clear about what's supposed to happen when he's no longer around.
My feeling is that there is a tremendous amount of potential in the future of the White Sox, both on the field and as a commercial entity. The area south of downtown Chicago has been densifying at a remarkable clip over the past 20 years and new developments are sprouting up in pretty much every district between the Loop and Bridgeport, home of the White Sox. There is a 62-acre plot of land alongside the Chicago River not far from the park that is slated to be developed into an entirely new neighborhood.
Meanwhile, one part of the current park's original suburban-inspired theme was to make sure there is plenty of surface parking around the venue. This means that there is already an ample supply of land right around the park that, if the ChiSox can control it, could be developed for mixed use in much the way the Cubs have done in the north part of the city and the Atlanta Braves pulled off with the concurrent construction of SunTrust Field and The Battery, an entirely new district that features bars, restaurants, apartments and office space. In other words, the White Sox could potentially become a robust real estate company, just as the Braves have done in their arm of the corporation that owns them.
If the proposed casino does end up across from the current ballpark, or perhaps a new one across 35th Street in the old Comiskey footprint that actually orients the park in a way that showcases the Chicago skyline, and the White Sox's current rebuilding plan pays off with a long run of contention, there is a real opportunity for someone to turn the franchise into a cash cow and to challenge the Cubs' seemingly unbreakable hold on the city. I'm totally serious about this.
2. Just a quick observation from this piece by Ken Rosenthal at The Athletic, in which he quotes an executive who "all but flipped out" at news that beginning with this season, there will be only one trade deadline. What happens if the team is in contention and an injury wave crashes into it?
This, I would argue, is not only a good thing (the rule, not the injuries), but it's the very reason the player's association was eager to make this change. No longer can pennant hopefuls skimp on their 40-man roster depth during the offseason, knowing they'd have all the way until the end of August to make late-second additions to plug holes. Now, teams should be more aggressive at adding quality depth beforehand. This aggression will reward those willing to spend on the margins and who have the foresight to cover potential issues with internal solutions.
This is all good stuff. It will be interesting to see if any contenders end up left out of the deadline game of musical chairs because they played too much by the old rules last winter. If there is such a team or teams, then the real effect the MLBPA hoped for might manifest in the hot stove season to come.
3. There's a nice little home run battle going on between the brothers Gurriel. Lourdes is in the midst of a breakout campaign for the Blue Jays and, entering Friday, he had hit 17 homers in 60 games, with a .597 slugging and .311 isolated power. Meanwhile, the Astros' Yulieski, who is nine years older, has 16 homers in 90 games, with career bests in slugging (.497) and iso (.209).
So that's 33 homers between the Gurriel brothers with 40% of the season left to play, putting them on pace for 55. But that pace has been quickening of late, so if they stay healthy and hot, that number could climb pretty high.
Obviously individual players have hit more than that in a season, but it did make me wonder what the record is for homers by a set of brothers in a single season. Going through the list of MLB-playing brothers here, I came up with this list of siblings who reached at least 50 homers in the same season.
Giambi 61, 2002 (Jason 41, Jeremy 20)
DiMaggio 59, 1937 (Joe 46, Vince 13)
Boone 59, 2003 (Bret 35, Aaron 24)
DiMaggio 59, 1941 (Joe 30, Vince 21, Dominic 8)
DiMaggio 58, 1940 (Joe 31, Vince 19, Dominic 8)
May 56, 1969 (Lee 38, Carlos 18)
Seager 56, 2016 (Kyle 30, Corey 26)
Meusel 54, 1925 (Bob 33, Irish 21)
Upton 54, 2011 (Justin 31, Melvin 23)
Conigliaro 54, 1970 (Tony 36, Billy 18)
Aaron 53, 1962 (Hank 45, Tommie 8)
Giambi 53, 2000 (Jason 43, Jeremy 10)
Upton 51, 2016 (Justin 31, Melvin 20)
Boone 51, 2001 (Bret 37, Aaron 14)
DiMaggio 50, 1942 (Joe 31, Vince 15, Dominic 14)
Giambi 50, 2001 (Jason 38, Jeremy 12)
Boone 50, 2002 (Aaron 26, Bret 24)
The brothers Gurriel have a lot of work left to do, but they could be on a pretty special pace.