Before I begin, I would just like to once again shamelessly refer our dedicated audience to a documentary I spent the last two months writing, editing, and filming called Boats Boards The Ship. It follows the story of this incredibly handsome, 5’9″ white kid with a gigantic dick as he attempts to cement himself as the greatest quarterback of all time. Don’t think about it, just watch it…
Anyway, one thing I always like to talk about is the life of a journalist. Sure, there are people who risk their lives everyday overseas protecting our freedom, but let’s see those people wear my shoes for one day. Let’s see them meander through a season, crafting and polishing takes for a living. When it comes down to it, anyone can fight for our freedom; it takes a well-oiled machine to sit in a dimly lit basement and suggest Tom Brady’s career is nearing its end seven times in the span of four years.
So yeah, there are a lot of things I love about journalism. Between manufacturing a surplus of mock drafts, complaining about airport protocol, and deepthroating Bruce Springsteen, I wouldn’t have it any other way. However, amongst all journalistic idiosyncrasies I enjoy, there’s one tradition that always floats to the brim of my admiration mug: Hall of Fame voting.
Earlier this year, some hero by the name of Bill Ballou from the state of Massachusetts—the birthplace of American revolution in the face of tyranny—defiantly claimed Mariano Rivera would not be receiving his vote to Cooperstown. His reason? No structural clue. However, don’t let that distract you from the fact he had the balls to do it.
In other words, Hall of Fame voting is an absolute joke, which sucks because the players up for induction played during the glory days of my life. For the past few years (as well as the next few), my baseball card collection is essentially at the mercy of the journalistic machine and I can’t stay silent any longer.
A lot of controversy surrounding HOF ballots concerns the morality of steroids. This is a topic that has been discussed and debated in intricate detail over the past decade so I won’t get into it too much. If you want to clasp a decent read on what transpired during that period, I suggest reading Game of Shadows, which highlights the roles of Victor Conte’s Balco and, namely, Barry Bond’s involvement in the whole situation. Fascinating stuff, and if you actually read it, you’ll realize two themes, in particular: a.) EVERYONE was pissing hot; and b.) Bonds might be the biggest flaming dickhead of all time.
All of that said, I can’t rightfully deny the MLB’s all time HR leader an induction. I know that’s ridiculous, but it is what it is. Not to mention, I think it would be a poor look on the MLB if Bonds gets in, which I’m ALL for.
For those keeping score at home, the MLB is the biggest collection of antiquated frauds on this planet aside from those German Chilean communities who still harbor particular sentiments of Nazism (fascinating stuff to research, if you care).
This isn’t necessarily groundbreaking news, but rich people are corrupt, and the MLB should be the poster child for corruption as it pertains to sports. The MLB knew about all this stuff back when it was going on. You would have to have been the breathing embodiment of the perfect oxymoron to hold a seat on that organization’s Board of Directors and have no idea guys were juicing.
That said, the MLB did this; and when they got caught red handed, instead of owning up to their negligence, they started pointing fingers at the same guys they allowed to juice in order to boost revenue. And you know what? It was fucking awesome so I can’t fully complain.
So, in regard to why I hate HOF voting, do I blame the players? Kinda. Do I blame the league? Kinda. Do I blame the brave men and women of the journalism industry that paved the way for guys like me to write over 1,000 words in a WordPress dashboard without making a single salient point? Absolutely not.
The bottom line is this: EVERYTHING’S already tainted. Just let these guys in so we can move on…
– Joey Boats (@joey_boats)