The Hall of Fame: it's all about the money

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Next time you hear Hall of Famers spout off about how the steroids cheats should be kept out, keep in mind that it may very well be more than the alleged integrity of the institution that they’re
protecting. Being inducted into the Hall of Fame can mean lots and lots of cash:

On the day Mr. Gossage’s election was announced, in mid-January
2007, I spent several hours with him and his agent, Andrew Levy. Their
cellphones never stopped ringing. Mr. Gossage bantered with George
Brett, Joe Torre and other baseball friends who called to offer
congratulations. Meanwhile, Mr. Levy furiously fielded business offers.
“Until now, he’s been getting between $7,500 and $10,000 per speech,”
Mr. Levy told me. “Today, his price just tripled.” The Goose had laid a
golden egg . . .

. . . In recent years the money pot has grown as the Hall of Fame,
which produces and markets its own line of merchandise, has been forced
to give 30% of the profits to its inductees. According to Marvin
Miller, very likely the world’s greatest expert on baseball economics,
this helps explain why the Veterans Committee, composed of Hall of
Famers, consistently refuses to exercise its mandate to elect
previously overlooked old-timers. “Nobody wants to dilute the value of
his stock,” Mr. Miller told me.

And it’s not as if it’s only the people on the inside who are treating
this like a business. As the article notes, the most famous of those on
the outside looking in — Ron Santo, Bert Blyleven, the estate of
Shoeless Joe Jackson and Davy Concepcion — all have what amounts to
professional lobbying and P.R. representation working for them.
Jackson’s heirs, the article tells us, can expect a boost of of a half
million bucks a year in marketing opportunities if and when he’s ever
inducted. Joe Morgan isn’t even the craziest guy out there campaigning
for Concepcion: “The government of Venezuela hired Washington lobbyist
Tim Gay to mount a Hall of Fame campaign for Hugo Chávez’s favorite
shortstop, Dave Concepcion.”

Given this weekend’s Hall of Fame induction ceremonies, you’re going
to hear a ton about this allegedly august institution. About who is
outside looking in. About who deserves to be there and who doesn’t.
About how allowing Barry Bonds and his fellow travellers in would
simply corrupt the place. Don’t take it seriously. Because while the
Hall of Fame is a great museum, the Hall of Fame induction game is a
business like anything else, and it’s owed just as much reverence as
Wal-Mart, Google, Congress or any other useful yet ultimately
self-interested institution.

(Thanks to Neate Sager for the link)

Aaron Judge set a new postseason strikeout record

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For a few days, it looked like Aaron Judge was finally hitting his stride in the postseason. He was still striking out at a regular clip, piling more and more strikeouts atop the 16 he racked up in the Division Series, but he was mashing, too. He engineered a three-run homer during Game 3 of the Championship Series, followed by another blast and game-tying double in Game 4. His one-out double helped pad a five-run lead in Game 5, while his 425-footer off of Brad Peacock barely made a dent during a 7-1 loss in Game 6. And then Lance McCullers‘ curveball found and fooled him, as it did five of the 14 batters it met in Game 7:

The strikeout was Judge’s first of the evening and 27th since the start of the playoffs. No other major league batter has racked up that many strikeouts in a single postseason, though Alfonso Soriano’s 26-strikeout record in 2003 comes the closest. Within that record, Judge also collected three golden sombreros (four strikeouts in a single game), narrowly avoiding the dreaded platinum sombrero (five strikeouts in a single game).

It’s an unfortunate footnote to a spectacular year for the rookie outfielder, who decimated the competition with 52 home runs and 8.2 fWAR during the regular season and was a pivotal part of the Yankees’ playoff run. Thankfully, the image of McCullers’ curveball darting just under Judge’s bat won’t be the image that sticks with us for years to come. Instead, it’ll look something like this: