Starr Gazing: Raising Hall of Fame Standards

Tonight in Seattle, or one of the next few nights there, Baltimore Orioles first basemen Rafael Palmeiro will lace his 3,000th base hit, thus joining one of baseball's most exclusive clubs. Only Hank Aaron, Willie Mays and Eddie Murray have ever compiled 3,000 hits along with 500 home runs.

My baseball friends say that, as a result of this rare milestone, Palmeiro is destined for Cooperstown--that either 500 home runs or 3,000 hits is usually sufficient to punch your Hall of Fame ticket. Thus the combo makes it a "no-brainer," they say. Palmeiro, who will turn 41 in September, has shown no inclination to retire and put it to the test. With 566 home runs to date, he may pass both his fading teammate Sammy Sosa and the 600 mark next season--putting him fifth all-time behind only Hank Aaron, Babe Ruth, Barry Bonds and Willie Mays.

But what so many of us love about baseball is that it is the most delectable brain food. Every decision on the field, every analysis of a player or a team off it, is subject to discussion and, quite often, contention. And while Palmeiro may be a "no-brainer" for most folks, my brain keeps insisting that he is not Hall of Fame material. His is, without doubt, an admirable career. But it is that of a first-rate ballplayer who has sustained his productivity over time. In the fields of nonglory, that used to earn you a gold watch. In baseball, everybody seems to think it mandates a far greater entitlement.

That notion ignores how dramatically the game has changed. Of the top 100 single-season home-run totals, we have witnessed 57 of them since 1987. We don't have to rehash all the reasons--both legitimate (new ballparks, lighter bats, dilution of pitching talent) and illegitimate (juiced balls and players)--to know that home runs and related stats have been significantly depreciated. Yet we haven't really readjusted the standards by which we judge our modern sluggers. We treat Palmeiro's 566 home runs as if they were an equivalent to the 573 hit--mostly in the '50s and '60s--by Harmon Killebrew, who is Palmeiro's next notch up on the career home-run ladder. Hall of Fame inductees should be players who were transcendent among their baseball generation. Palmeiro has endured more than transcended.

Though he was pretty much a perennial American League top-tenner in the power categories throughout his prime, Palmeiro has never led the league in any of the game's holy trinity of stats--batting average, home runs or runs batted in. He has never come in higher than fifth in MVP voting. And perhaps most telling, he has never even been regarded as the best player at his position in his own league, let alone the game. In the AL he has played second or third fiddle to everyone from Eddie Murray and Mark McGwire to Mo Vaughn and Jim Thome to Frank Thomas and Carlos Delgado to David Ortiz and Mark Teixeira. That is reflected in the fact that, in a career now spanning two decades, Palmeiro has been an all-star just four times. This week, Kansas City first baseman Mike Sweeney, a superb hitter whose name has never been mentioned in the same breath with Hall of Fame, went to his fifth all-star game in 11 seasons. (Yes, I know Sweeney benefits from the fact that the woeful Royals must get at least one all-star slot, but still ... )

It is hard for me to fathom how a player who's not a consistent all-star can morph into a Hall of Famer at career's end. By contrast, Wade Boggs and Ryne Sandberg, the two players who will be inducted into the Hall later this month, were chosen as all-stars 12 and 10 times respectively. Indeed, consider all the hitters from Palmeiro's era who have been inducted since 2000 and their all-star selections--Ozzie Smith (15), Dave Winfield (12), Gary Carter (11), Kirby Puckett (10), Eddie Murray (8), Paul Molitor (7). They reflect an elevated stature.