Hayes: Maybe Hall members should decide who belongs in their club

EVERY YEAR, the National Baseball Hall of Fame tasks accredited baseball journalists to decide which two or three players will be enshrined on a summer day in a small town in the bucolic crotch of the state of New York.

Every year, when the class is announced in mid-January, the fans, the press and the electronic media rise to the bait and excoriate . . . one another. What could be a celebration of lifetime achievement as denoted by inclusion on 75 percent of submitted ballots often devolves into round after round of recrimination.

Delightful, irrational recrimination.

Such will be the case in the coming days. Both Tim Raines and Jeff Bagwell, who narrowly missed last year, jumped about 16 percentage points. Raines made it in his 10th and final year of eligibility, which he called the "biggest day" in his career. It was Bagwell's seventh chance. Ivan "Pudge" Rodriguez, a peerless catcher for most of his 21 seasons who is proudest of his longevity, made it in his first try, as he should have - though he said he spent three sleepless nights before Wednesday. He knew it was close. He made it by 1 percentage point.

Prolific reliever Trevor Hoffman needed only five more votes among the 442 ballots, but finished 1 percentage point short in his second year, a 7-point jump. That's a good harbinger for 2018. The same is true of Vladimir Guerrero, less than 4 percentage points short in his first year.

Meanwhile, the prospects remain bleaker for Edgar Martinez, a designated hitter who gained 15 points in his eighth year. Steroids continued to stigmatize Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, who nevertheless gained in their fifth year.

This is where the wonderful outrage begins.

Should steroids be an issue? Bagwell said Bonds and Clemens belong: "I'm a fan."

Should character matter? It's the obvious obstacle in the candidacy of coarse loudmouth Curt Schilling, a postseason genius who this year, his fifth, dipped to 45 percent, down 7 percentage points, as he became ever more divisive.

The answer to those questions, of course, is simple: It should not be our problem. Just turn the vote over to Hall members. They already have a committee that decides which outliers get in. If a small group can vote for umpires and commissioners and managers, then they, as a body, can handle the big ballot. There now are about 70 living Hall members. That's plenty.

Of course, having inductees vote would diminish the power and importance of the most significant body of American sports journalists, which is a bad idea. That doesn't make it any less logical.

After all, who's better suited to judge the merit of Clemens or Schilling: Hall of Famer pitchers Tom Glavine, John Smoltz and Greg Maddux - or, say, a writer who covered the Braves?

This should not impugn any of the writers, who are, generally, a conscientious lot who take the voting seriously; some, far too seriously. Athletes are policed best when they police themselves. If Mike Schmidt thinks that lying juicers such as A-Rod and inveterate gamblers such as Pete Rose should reside with him in Cooperstown, then Schmidt should be allowed to choose their company.

As for the "morals clause," well, Schilling's politics might seem fascist and his world view reprehensible, but plenty of other scum is floating all around the Hall. One more bag won't noticeably foul the waters.

All of that said, the voting actually seems to be trending toward common sense. Perhaps it's getting saner because the voters are getting younger; or the voters are better informed; or the voters have more fully accepted the tenets of reason and accountability.

For instance, time clearly has eroded arguments to exclude high-profile PED players: players whose star power fueled the industry that employed the voters; players whose entire world was awash in steroids, human growth hormone, amphetamines and various other chemical cocktails.

By the way, Clemens and Bonds gained about 9 points apiece this year. Every flipped vote, every changed mind is an admission of previous idiocy.

Which, again, is delicious.

It's too late for poor Lee Smith, a star-crossed candidate (seven-time All-Star from 1983 through 1995, third all-time with 478 saves) who now falls off the ballot after 15 years of failure. Hopefully, Bonds and Clemens won't suffer the same fate. If they do, well, it only proves the presence of hypocrisy, resentment and shame, powerful forces in any democratic process. It is a flawed system, but that's one of the reasons we love it.

Because, really, Halls of Fame are not about players. They're about us.

It is the press enshrining generally flawed men with strange, specific gifts whose work provided entertainment and vicarious validation. It's about permanently deifying demigods whose feats awed lesser mortals. It's about deciding which of the heroes were the greatest of the heroes; this frivolous, imperfect thing, and nothing more.

Often, writers (like myself) lose touch with the fact that we are, at the core, conduits between these heroes and the fans. At our best, we avoid the worship; at our best, we present clear-eyed reports and offer reasonable commentary.

I'm not eligible to vote yet. Some writers and news outlets believe that BBWAA members voting for the Hall of Fame is inappropriate. Perhaps it is. It's also illogical. So what.

No Hall of Fame is about players. They're all about us.

That's why we pick the players.

That's why we care.

hayesm@phillynews.com

@inkstainedretch Blog: ph.ly/DNL