In Short Order: Johan Santana fell off the Hall of Fame ballot, but don't forget his greatness
Welcome to In Short Order, a weekly look at all the baseball that I like and can't stop obsessing over. We'll mostly live at the edges of the game; at the intersection of the weird, the fun and the esoteric. Oh yeah, and hair.
The newest Hall of Fame class was announced on Wednesday, with Chipper Jones, Trevor Hoffman, Vladimir Guerrero and Jim Thome officially earning the title of all-time great. But Johan Santana will not join those players at Cooperstown. And, unlike Edgar Martinez or Mike Mussina or even Omar Vizquel, he won't even be on the ballot next year after receiving just 2.4 percent of the vote -- far below the 5 percent needed to remain.
That's the same support that Jamie Moyer received. While everyone loves how Moyer relied on a kind of sweaty pride to pitch until middle age, he didn't win two Cy Youngs like Santana.
Now, we won't spend the next decade dissecting his career and watching his changeups dart around batters' swings. Nor will there be debate over how Santana and Sandy Koufax are essentially the same person:
I'm not necessarily arguing that Santana should be a Hall of Famer, only that it's a shame that he's now joining the list of great Hall of Fame ballot one-and-dones.
There's Kenny Lofton, who racked up 2,400 hits and played stellar defense, but received 3.2 percent of the vote in 2013.
Jim Edmonds combined power with a penchant for hurling his body all over the park, but he collected just 2.5 percent of the vote in 2016.
Kevin Brown's sinker and emotional outbursts led to 211 victories and two ERA titles, but couldn't get him over 2.1 percent of the vote in 2011.
Joe Carter smashed dingers and won a World Series, but only 3.8 percent of voters rewarded him in 2004.
The Veterans Committee rewarded his double play partner this year, but Lou Whitaker received just 2.9 percent of the vote in 2001.
The list goes on: Bobby Grich, David Cone, Chris Carpenter, Will Clark, etc., etc., etc., I'd say let's induct all of these stars into their own roadside attraction one-and-done museum, but, well, that would become its own Hall of Fame.
Just promise me you'll watch at least one Santana highlight every winter for the next nine years. Like, oh, this one:
Now on to the rest.
The home run you should watch right now:
Barry Bonds hit a lot of home runs. He hit big ones, short ones, tall ones, long ones, every kind of homer. But very rarely did he spin like a pop superstar after hitting them -- except when he did this in the heat of an NL West title race against Chan Ho Park on Sept. 17, 1997:
Forget bat flips -- just look at that spin move:
(h/t r/SFGiants)
You should know about ...
Olmedo Saenz's nickname.
You probably haven't thought about Saenz since the corner infielder and pinch-hitter extraordinaire retired in 2007. That means you probably also forgot about his amazing nickname: The Killer Tomato. He even placed "Killler-T" on the nameplate over his locker.
As for the etymology of the nickname? It appears to be a combination of his first name sounding similar to "tomato," mixed with his penchant for big pinch-hits. Oh, that's easy.
They don't make commercials like they used to:
If you ever thought that baseball was a calm, tranquil game -- one for lazy summer evenings on the porch -- you haven't seen this hilariously over-the-top Starting Lineup ad.
What you should read this weekend:
"Summer of '49" by David Halberstam.
Perhaps you've had the issue that I have with baseball in the black-and-white photo era: You know the names and the stories, but you don't think of the players as people. Instead, they're more similar to Paul Bunyon or Johnny Appleseed -- American tall tales.
Focusing on the pennant battle between the Red Sox and Yankees that went down to the 1949 season's final weekend, Halberstam manages to make these players come to life after interviewing every player involved (well, except Joe DiMaggio, who rebuffed his every attempt).
I may have never actually watched Ellis Kinder pitch, but his ability to stay out all night and then throw a shutout makes him a personal hero.