The "judge an athlete by the amount of championships he's won" way of thinking doesn't apply to Cubs players. My theory is that because we don't have championships to celebrate, we need another outlet to celebrate the greatness of our individual players that didn't achieve team success. This outlet is found in MVP and Gold Glove Awards, and ultimately, Hall of Fame induction. We need some sort of order to be restored to the universe. There has to be a silver lining in all the suffering, and that comes in the recognition of great individual effort.
Former Cubs third baseman Ron Santo, who died last Thursday, served as the longstanding symbol of a great Cubs player denied his proper recognition. Santo impressed both offensively and defensively on terrible Cubs teams for the first seven years of his career. While the Cubs achieved a degree of team success later in his career (including the 1969 team), Santo ultimately never played in a playoff game. The playoffs were structured differently and only allowed for the top team from each of the two divisions in each League to face off for a World Series birth.
Taking a look at Santo's numbers, it's hard to argue that he should not be in the Hall of Fame. There are currently thirteen third basemen in the Hall of Fame -- the position with the least amount of players. I compared Santo's career batting average, on base percentage, slugging percentage, home runs, runs batted in, and runs scored to ten of the thirteen players. I didn't include Hall of Famers Ray Dandridge, Judy Johnson, and Jud Wilson in the statistical comparison because they played in the Negro Leagues, and the statistical data in question is not available for Negro Leauge players.
Here is how Santo would rank compared to the other ten Hall of Fame third basemen in the following six categories: Batting Average - 8th, On Base Percentage - Tie 7th, Slugging Percentage - 4th, Home Runs - 3rd, RBIs - 5th, and Runs Scored - 7th. Santo also won five Gold Gloves, which would be third most among Hall of Fame third basemen.
Statistically speaking, Santo's inclusion seems like a no-brainer, but that's only when compared to other third basemen. Santo's career numbers in the so-called most important categories look like this: .277 AVG, 342 HR, 1,331 RBI, and 2,254 hits; not particularly impressive when compared across positions. We've been told a .300 BA, 500 HRs, 1,500 RBIs, and 3,000 hits are the gold standard and Santo reached none of those. This type of thinking is misguided and probably has played a huge part in Santo's rejection from the Hall. Does it make sense to attach such lofty offensive production to a position that historically has housed more defensive minded players? Would you penalize a center for dishing out less assists than a point guard?
When compared to the more offensive minded first base and outfielder positions, Santo's numbers are dwarfed. Compare him to other Hall of Fame third basemen, take into account the five Gold Gloves, and you see a player that is one of the greatest offensive and defensive third basemen of all time. The voters need to do a better job of differentiating production by position, rather than production overall.
Baseball, more so than any other sport, claims to champion character, honesty, and integrity when selecting their Hall of Famers. Their strict ethical stance is why MLB's all-time hits leader and the greatest home run hitters of my youth aren't sniffing the Hall.
Diagnosed with diabetes at the age of 18, Santo kept his disease a secret, fearing he would get cut from the team. Very little was known about the disease in the 1960s, in fact, most people diagnosed with diabetes were not expected to live into their 30s. In wasn't until the end of his career that Santo announced he had diabetes, and subsequently became of the foremost figures in the fight against the disease. It is estimated that he raised over 60 million dollars for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation over the course of his life. Santo also hosted camps and spoke to kids who were living with diabetes. Numbers aside, Santo possessed all of qualities the voting committee say they care deeply about.
For myself and many Cubs fans around my age, too young to see Santo play, we came to know Ron through his radio broadcasts. He's been criticized over the years for not providing the most insightful commentary, and this criticism was definitely warranted. Santo wasn't the type who was going to pepper you with the details of the game. He was a fan first and foremost, as evidenced by this clip:
Some may call that bad color commentary, and I guess, by definition, it is. Personally, I love it because his reaction was the same as everyone at home. Santo's announcing style was the definition of accessible. He had no intention of being the smug announcer snubbing his nose at the know-nothing fans. He was one of us, who just so happened to blessed with the talent to play professional baseball. Santo was never overly optimistic or pessimistic about the team. His feelings were usually a reflection of the larger fan base. He lent a voice to the frustrations, joys, and general masochism that is being a Cubs fan. For that, he was loved.
The Cubs aren't winning a championship anytime soon. Funny, how that phrase applies every decade. It's my guess that Ron would have wanted to see a championship even more than his Hall of Fame induction. But because we are Cubs fans, we need to settle for Ron's Hall of Fame recognition -- an honor that has been long overdue.
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