This was supposed to be an extended discussion of this year’s candidates for the Hall of Fame.
After working on it for several days and only gotten to half of the viable candidates after several pages, I’ve decided that less is more.
For a more comprehensive look at the candidates, check out Aaron Gleeman’s outstanding overview, with both basic biographical and statistical information on each candidate, as well as an assessment of each candidate’s case. I won’t try to repeat his efforts (i.e. I will free-ride on his)
As mentioned below, David Pinto recently noted an e-mail exchange between us. What prompted my original e-mail to Pinto was that this year’s ballot has an exceptional number of borderline candidates, as opposed to having one or two sure inductees and many clearly unqualified ones, which seems to have been a more common pattern in recent years.
Rob Neyer has made a similar observation:
What's amazing about the current Hall of Fame ballot is how many viable candidates there are, candidates about whom we can argue.
Personally, I would vote for only six players on the ballot (I'll name them later). But I believe I might be wrong about five or six others, and there are still more candidates who have their rabid supporters, and wouldn't be among the most undeserving Hall of Famers if they were elected. There are 33 players on the ballot this time around, and 19 are viable candidates according to at least somebody's standards.
Those 19 players are Bert Blyleven, Gary Carter, Dave Concepcion, Andre Dawson, Steve Garvey, Rich Gossage, Keith Hernandez, Tommy John, Jim Kaat, Don Mattingly, Jack Morris, Dale Murphy, Eddie Murray, Dave Parker, Jim Rice, Ryne Sandberg, Lee Smith, Bruce Sutter, and Alan Trammell. Every one of those 19 players has a decent argument on either analytical premises or based on historical precedents (or both).
I think the current playing environment is distorting the current voting on two levels:
1) Due to the offensive explosion since the mid-1990s, the batting statistics of the current candidates seem superficially less impressive when compared to active players. Specifically, Gary Carter’s numbers – properly regarded as historic in his context – pale besides Mike Piazza’s, and don’t impress as much as they should when compared to Ivan Rodriguez or even Javier Lopez. Dale Murphy’s MVP numbers of the mid-1980s look pedestrian now. Same for Jim Rice; people have focused on his difficult relationship with sportswriters in attempting to explain why he hasn’t been elected, but I think the changed offensive climate is as responsible. (Analysts such as Bill James have pointed out that Rice was very overrated, but I don’t think that the BBWAA voters are using that argument. It’s a case of doing the right thing for the wrong reasons.) Had Eddie Murray not cleared 3,000 hits or 500 HRs, he may have had to wait a while for induction as well.
2) To a lesser extent, the increased concentration of saves in one pitcher and increased specialization of closers over the last 15 years has hurt the prior generation of great closers in the voting – both because the career leaderboards are rapidly being re-written, and that 35 saves isn’t nearly as big of a deal as it was 20 years ago. Examples include Gossage, Sutter, Dan Quisenberry and even Tom Henke.
In short, I would definitely vote for Blyleven, Carter, Gossage, Murray, Sandberg, Trammell, Kaat and John. I would probably vote for Dale Murphy as well, and one surprise candidate who’ll be described below. But there is no candidate out of the 19 listed above whose selection would be a travesty.
I’ve retained one of my original extended discussions, regarding Gossage and Sutter:

Rich Gossage and Bruce Sutter make for a fascinating joint discussion. They were probably the two most feared “firemen” of their time (the term “closer” not commonly used at that time). Gossage’s career was much longer, in part because he bounced around as a back-of-the-bullpen type for a decade after he was no longer an All-Star. And he wasn’t too bad, even in those years. (Contrast that with Steve Carlton’s last couple of years, for example.) Sutter’s career was basically wiped out by arm injuries approximately five minutes after signing a “lifetime” contract with the Atlanta Braves. Oops.
Under Win Shares, Sutter’s 1977 season ranks as barely better than Gossage’s best season (also 1977) by a 27 to 26 margin. Sutter and Gossage each had 3 seasons of over 20 Win Shares. Their primes basically overlapped, and I think it was generally accepted that Sutter was slightly better at their peaks. In the original edition of his Historical Baseball Abstract (published in 1986), Bill James ranked Sutter #1 among relievers for peak value, with Gossage #2. Part of that reputation is probably due to the fact that Sutter closed out four consecutive All-Star games during the time that the NL won every year, and made the American Leaguers look like a bunch of Little Leaguers in the process.
The story is often told about how Sutter’s second-half fades in 1977 and 1978 due to overwork inspired Cubs manager Herman Franks to restrict Sutter’s use to save situations, thus creating the modern “closer” role. I’m not sure if there’s more to the story than that, but if it is true, it may indicate Gossage’s superiority. Gossage pitched over 130 innings in relief 1975, 1977 and 1978 (not to mention 225 innings, along with 15 complete games, in 1976 in an ill-advised experiment as a starter) and was none the worse for wear. After an injury sustained in a famous fight with Cliff Johnson cut short his 1979 season, Gossage’s workload was more reasonable for the rest of his career, but his effectiveness did not seem to be compromised by extensive use the way Sutter’s was.
Based on durability and length of career, I’d pick Gossage over Sutter, and I’d feel comfortable voting Gossage to the Hall of Fame. But the question is whether Sutter qualifies as well. I’ve probably gone back-and-forth on Sutter more than any other candidate on the ballot. At the moment, I probably wouldn’t vote for him based on brevity of career. But I could easily go the other way. Was Bruce Sutter the Sandy Koufax of relievers – i.e., were his peak accomplishments of sufficient magnitude to outweigh his short career? The answer may be “yes.” Yes, I know closers are overrated (though that was less true when they pitched 100-130 innings as Sutter did, as opposed to today’s 65) But Sutter has a reasonable claim to being the best reliever of all time, judged on his peak. If a player can reasonably be called the best ever at his position – including closer - for any length of time, I don’t think we can complain if that player makes the Hall of Fame.
In fact, I just convinced myself. I’d vote for Sutter as well.