Yesterday’s election results were so disappointing.

I’m not
talking New Hampshire primary results. Those were fine; a competitive
primary season is excellent for the electorate — at least we’re thinking. No, this is about that other quirky institution of the Northeast — Cooperstown, New York’s National Baseball Hall of Fame.

Fresh off their stellar reporting on performance-enhancing drugs in the game, the Baseball Writers of America
just voted on the lasted batch of potential Hall of Famer. One cat got
in: Relief pitcher Rich “Goose” Gossage. Left out? Among others, Jim
Rice, Tim Raines, Andre Dawson and Bert Blyleven. (Ugh, don’t get me
started on Blyleven. His 19-7 1984 season was my last in Ohio. Blyleven was awesome on a horrible Cleveland team. If he had played in New York, there would be monuments to Bert Blyleven.)

Full disclosure: Jim Rice
is my cousin. Our family lives in Anderson, South Carolina. But Rice
isn’t even the issue. I’m more incensed that Dawson didn’t get in.
Dawson is one of six players ever with 300 home runs and 300 steals.
Look, I loved Gossage as a pitcher; he helped invent the whole closer
persona with his hulking physique and fu Manchu mustach. Goose
shouldn't have been this year's only admission though.

Thing is,
it’s the last part that I think the Baseball Writers habitually
overlook. Players are a helluva lot more than their pure numbers, Mr.
Moneyball. Jim Rice influenced the Boston Red Sox’s line-up — no, full franchise
— by being such a fearsome presence in the clean-up spot. morning.
“Nobody scared me, but the guy who came closest is Jim Rice,” Goose
Gossage told ESPN’s Mike Greenberg on Wednesday. Cousin Jim Ed put the
fear of Rice into them kids, and everyone from Freddie Lynn to Fudge
Fisk benefited.

This is only partially about my grudge against
on baseball. I’m actually of a mind that, across the sports landscape,
non-statistical contributions are underestimated by fans and experts
alike. Glenn Burke
and Billy “White Shoes” Johnson should be institutionalized for
inventing the high-five and end zone celebration, respectively. Bill
Bellichick’s innovations are obviously incredible, but just as
impressive is the speed with which he elevated “We’re just focusing on
the game” to the very top of football coaching’s lexicon of clichés.
These people changed the game in very deep ways. Kudos to the first
sports Hall of Fame to figure that one out.

“Jim Rice belongs in the Hall of Fame,” Gossage said.

Baseball by the numbers is great for managing, but it sucks for measuring history.

Donnell Alexander is the MOLI View's contributing editor for sports and fitness.