Thursday, February 24, 2011

Top 5 Worst Arguments Against Induction in the Hall of Fame


The references to the Hall of Fame in this article are confined to the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

                The Top 5 Worst Arguments against Hall of Fame induction

                5. They didn’t play long enough/they were compilers.

                                While these may seem like two separate arguments, they are based on the same premise; that there is certain window in which a player must be dominant for them to be a Hall of Famer. In simpler terms, it’s used as an excuse in many cases to simply dismiss cases without actually examining them. For example, the argument most often used against Terrell Davis, who was the best runningback in the NFL when he played, is that he didn’t play long enough, while someone like Jerome Bettis or Curtis Martin will often be tagged with the compiler label because of their long careers, but were never considered “great.” I do agree that certain players can fall into these categories, like Priest Holmes or Keenan McCardell, however they’re used way too loosely and without any understanding of the context in which those players played. For example, Gale Sayers played a very short period of time, but was so dominant in the time he played that he made the Hall of Fame in spite of playing 7 years (and combining for less than 100 rushing yards and 0 touchdowns in the last two). Also, there’s Jerry Rice, who was long since surpassed for the title of best receiver in the league when he retired, could’ve have been considered a compiler since he continued searching for a job even when it was evident that he just didn’t have it anymore. Really the biggest issue I have with this is that it’s completely arbitrary as to how long constitute too short or too long. Some players who play 15 or 16 years are considered ironmen, while others are merely considered compilers. It’s a ridiculous and obvious excuse to exercise bias against certain players. 


                4. I won’t put a special teamer in, because they only play some parts of them game.
 
                                I will acknowledge the fact that it is difficult to effectively judge the quality of specialists since there is such a high turnover rate and some who are great statistically are not necessarily all-time greats (see Mike Vanderjagt). However, to simply dismiss players because of the position they played is beyond poor reasoning, its right there with (positional) profiling. To basically discount players because they aren’t playing a regular position is to completely dismiss the concept that special teams have any impact whatsoever. If you are of the opinion, I would kindly point you to look at Devin Hester. If any player should remind you of the impact a special teamer can have, it should be him. It also shows just flat out laziness. To dismiss a player because he was a special teamer just sounds like an excuse for not paying attention to the entire game. Also, the precedent for putting a special teamer in the Hall of Fame has already been set in Jan Stenerud. For those who don’t know, Stenerud was a place kicker with Kansas City Chiefs back in the 60s and 70s who was elected to the Hall of Fame. His inclusion should set the stage for any other special teamer who was dominant at their position (like Ray Guy and Steve Tasker) to go in. However, these and others like them have been summarily pushed aside by those who would not even consider the quality of their play or the impact they had on the game.

                3. You shouldn’t have to think about whether or not they’re a Hall of Famer

                                I said in the previous column that dismissing a player strictly because of the position they played reeks of laziness. Well, this reasoning doesn’t just reek of laziness, it IS laziness in its most undiluted form. The entire concept of just knowing that someone is a Hall of Famer without actually needing to examine their careers or think about their impacts is just stupid. It’s nice as a theoretical smell test; however it fails to hold up under the scrutiny of closer examination. For example, a player on multiple Super Bowl winning teams who is just above average could be given more consideration than a far better player on a losing team (i.e. Andy Russell {the forgotten linebacker in the Steel Curtain defense} over Tommy Nobis {great from the first Atlanta Falcons teams}). Also, a guy like Tiki Barber, who played for a high profile franchise in a big market (the New York Giants), could be given more consideration then a  guy like Fred Taylor who played most of his career in a smaller market and was generally unheralded. This argument lends itself to too much to hype and not enough to facts. If you don’t want to do the research, then you shouldn’t have a vote.

                2. They didn’t win a championship
 
                                Ok, I’m going to say this in the simplest terms possible. 

                                Titles alone ≠ Greatness

                                This is every bit as lazy as simply dismissing a player because of where the played or what position they played. Yes, the point of the game is to win a championship, however that does not encompass the entirety of a player’s impact or greatness. Easy examples, neither Dan Marino nor Barry Sanders, ever won titles. Yet both are considered among the best to ever play. Why is that? Simple. Someone actually watched them play and judged that their ability to excel at their craft was better than many who have come before or after. I know that Marino and Sanders are actually rather easy examples of the counter to this argument; however anyone who is more borderline is simply dismissed. A better example of this is a guy like Donovan McNabb. He has never won a title and is not statistically far and away better than everyone else. However, when you think of the best teams of the 2000s, who do you, think of? The Colts and Pats for sure, maybe the Steelers and….. the Eagles. There’s almost no way around it. The Eagles were the most consistently good team in the NFC over the course of the 2000s and that was do in VERY large part to the play of Donovan McNabb. He would often steward inferior receivers and runningbacks to victory after victory. Yes the defense was consistently good as well, but that too experienced a great deal of turnover, seeing only Brian Dawkins to lead it over a ten year period. When McNabb comes up for election, the only thing that will be said about him is that he never won a title. However when you actually look at the 2000s, you know actually watch the games, it’s pretty obvious he was one of the best players in this decade. It’s such a shame that this, pathetic excuse, will be used to wash away all of his (and so many other’s) accomplishments in favor of easy ring counts.

1. They didn’t change the game
                I hate this argument. 

                I hate this argument with a fiery passion. 

                My hate for this argument burns worse than jalapeños that have been marinated in Tabasco sauce and curry powder. 

                This argument goes beyond pure laziness and passes into the realm of simple contrarianism for contrarianism’s sake. You actually have to examine and understand a player’s career to make this argument. The entire basis of this argument is the mistaken concept that the Hall of Fame exists solely to honor the legends of legends, instead of just the best players. It’s worsened by the belief that a Hall of Fame is better when there are fewer members. The simple truth is that the legacy of player is NEVER defined by his induction into the Hall of Fame. A simple example is Pete Rose. There is not a single person who can say he is not one of the greatest hitters in baseball history. However he is not in baseball’s Hall of Fame. While he’s has been banned because of issues related to his gambling, he’s legacy as a player is not hurt by his banning from the Hall of Fame. That Hall of Fame is worse for leaving him out. It’s impossible to say that place properly represents the entirety of Baseball history when the all-time hits leader is still not in.

 While his example is a rather extreme example (and completely irrelevant considering what a joke the baseball Hall of Fame is), the concept is no less true. Let’s take for example this past year’s runningbacks; Marshall Faulk, Jerome Bettis and Curtis Martin. The overwhelming opinion among those who have examined the statistics and watched all three play was that Faulk was clearly the best. This opinion was mostly based on the overwhelming four year stretch Faulk had between 1998 and 2001 where he lead the league in All-Purpose yards (noting that only 18 of those 9010 yards were return yards, all the rest were rushing and receiving) for that period. While neither Martin nor Bettis were ever the same kind of receiving threat that Faulk was, it could be argued that both were better pure runners than Faulk (mostly in Bettis’ case, Martin was clearly better in the area of running). When you look simply at the statistics, Bettis and Faulk experienced very similar careers. Both started out were great in their first two seasons, experienced a slump during their third season, then went on long periods of success before finishing their careers in less than stellar fashion, neither breaking the thousand yard rushing mark in their last four seasons. Martin rushed for less than one-thousand yards only in the final year of his career. While Faulk was considered a game-changer in the way he could dominate as a rusher and receiver, Bettis and Martin were just great runningbacks. As a result, Faulk was inducted on his first year of eligibility, while Martin and Bettis are now on the waiting list. While I agree that Faulk is a better over player than Bettis and Martin and is certainly deserving of being a first ballot Hall of Famer, there are people who have taken the concept that Martin and Bettis are not among the “Best of the Best” and taken that to the point of saying that neither are Hall of Famers. To take that big a leap because neither necessarily changed the way the position is viewed or how it was played is just ludicrous. The speed at which you are missing the point must be faster than Rick Moranis flying into a view screen. 

Bettis, Martin and those whose careers are similarly great, but not “All-Time Great” are being overlooked because of this insane notion that only the best can be a Hall of Famer. It’s such a ridiculously subjective argument that it’s barely worth addressing. While there is a certain amount of subjectivity to every argument revolving around the Hall of Fame, there has to be a certain amount of objectivity brought to the table as well. This argument is the ultimate dismissal of objectivity in favor of subjectivity. There are only a few, exceedingly few (maybe five to ten) players to ever play the sport of football that are considered unanimously legendary. The vast majority of the other greats are argued about at nauseam and there is just no way to form a consensus on them. So what do you do in that situation? Do you limit the Hall of Fame to just those few? Do you take players out when they are surpassed in greatness? What exactly is the process you’re supposed to go through when trying to reach a consensus on someone’s level of greatness? There are just so many holes in this idiotic argument that you could strain pasta with it. It’s pathetic.

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