To start: the Hall of Fame is a knot of contradictions. An institution that recognizes the superlatives, yet doesn’t include the all-time home run leader and all-time hits leader; a sanctimonious temple that counts racists, misogynists, abusers, and bigots in their number but shuns and shames cheaters and gamblers (who also happen to be the all-time home run leader and all-time hits leader); a history museum that planted itself on the grounds of a made-up one—the ol’ brick and mortar is man-made and flawed.
As much as it can feel like a mausoleum—all those bronze tombstones hung on lacquered walls bathed in half-light—it shouldn’t determine how, or what, players are remembered.