Baseball’s
Hall of Fame made significant changes to the way
the Veterans Committee elects long retired players
to the Hall. With these changes in place, baseball
fans have reason to hope that the sign saying,
“no hicks allowed” that has hung on the doors
of Hall of Fame for years will finally be taken
down, and a hick from North Dakota will finally be
welcomed inside.
Roger
Maris,
the hick from North Dakota is without question the
“best ballplayer to ever play the game who
isn’t in the Hall of Fame.” He is not there
because of how enshrinement into the Hall was done
and because those that choose and voted for the
members of baseball’s Hall of Fame didn’t take
the time to examine a player’s record and
instead choose to hold grudges or remember stories
untrue.
It is vexing
to see how the baseball writers elect players to
the Baseball Hall of Fame. Many players get
elected because of unquestioned credentials such
as Ruth, Mays, Aaron, and Cobb.
Others with
less stellar credentials, who shouldn’t be
elected, arrive anyway. They enter through back
doors on the laurels of a moment in the sun, would
be legends, or by ambitious and overstated press
releases. They enter because they were personable
and gregarious and because they could tell a joke
and share a laugh. Writers could like them because
they let themselves be liked. Roger Maris was none
of that. He was just a hick from North Dakota.
The Hall
doesn’t welcome players like Roger. They don’t
meet standards or have qualities writers think
are important. Their credentials and
accomplishments on the field can match
those of the best. But, those qualities and
standards don’t seem to matter in the minds of
those who vote. Accomplishments don’t seem to
matter when you’re just a hick from North
Dakota.
Writers
concentrate on egocentric ideals that prevent them
from looking past their self-absorbed world to see
the reality of what is right and just. They
remember trivial events and unimportant stories
filled with half-truths, myths and lies. All of
this blinds them to the contributions a player has
made to his team, to winning, to the game
–contributions like those of Roger Maris!
Many players
enshrined in the Hall unquestionably had greater
success and achievements on the baseball diamond
than Roger. Others, though, have accomplishments
that pale in comparison next to his. Go ahead,
look it up. You will see his record includes more
than just 61 home runs.
There were the
awards – back-to-back Most Valuable Player and
Gold Gloves. There were the seven World Series in
nine years, on the winning team three times. Of
course, there was the record 61 home runs season
in 1961. It stood for 37 years – longer than
Babe Ruth’s old record.
Roger’s
record speaks for itself. It matches up against
many players the Hall proudly opened its doors to
accept inside. If you take the names away, aside
from the legendary 61 number, you’d be hard
pressed to tell them apart.
Those who
vote, though, choose not to look at the record or
to remember the hits, the catches, and the things
that lead to winning. Instead, they remember who
gave the best interview, who gave a quote that
made their stories sparkle and dance, or who told
that off-color joke and picked up the check. No
one remembers the guy that didn’t party. No one
remembers the hick from North Dakota.
It’s not
easy being the hero nobody wants. It’s not easy
giving all you can give only to have people say
“it ‘taint e’nuff, give us more.”
It’s not easy trying to do the right thing only
to have your efforts twisted, ridiculed, and
tossed back in your face as useless or
misunderstood.
No, it’s not
easy when the people’s hero, the real
chosen-one who can give a quote and can be quick
with a joke, bats next to you in the line-up.
It’s not easy just being who you are and having
people not appreciate you for what you are, just a
simple hick from North Dakota.
Roger never
lost sight of the small wonders in life. At the
height of the pressure during the 1961 season, he
virtually held up a game in Detroit to pause in
the batter’s box admiring a flock of geese
flying over Tiger Stadium. He hit the next pitch
for his 58th home run. That was Roger. That was
the hick and the ballplayer!
The HBO movie
61* portrays a season like no other and of the
circus that surrounded the Yankees that year. It
shows the animosity and hatred so many fans had
for Roger. It is sad to note that so much of that
hatred came from New York fans. But, hatred
wasn’t just from the fans. It came from the
media and press. It came from the commissioner’s
office itself. And, although it didn’t show it
in the movie, there had to be taunts and tirades
from opposing players as well.
"They
acted as though I was doing something wrong,
poisoning the record books or something,"
said Maris at the 1980 All-Star Game. "Do you
know what I have to show for 61 home runs?
Nothing. Exactly nothing."
Roger didn’t
do anything wrong. He just played the game as well
as he could and worked each day to be the best
teammate possible. And while it may be too late
for him to realize it, he does deserve something.
Roger could
sulk and pout and put people off. He could be
surly and abrasive. Like many athletes he failed
to understand that much of the game is played off
the field. But, that part of the game went against
all that Roger was.
Roger Maris
was simple man who played many rolls. He was a
son, a brother, a neighbor and a friend. He was a
father, a husband – a teammate. He was a man who
also was a terrific baseball player. He was just a
hick from North Dakota, a hick who belongs in
baseball’s Hall of Fame.
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