Fifteen long years of waiting. And wondering. And hoping.
The uncertainty ended Wednesday afternoon when Jack Morris learned that he won't become a member of Cooperstown’s elite and enter baseball’s Hall of Fame.
Deadline Detroit coverage: Bypassed: Morris, Trammell Fall Short Again In Hall Of Fame Vote
The argument for or against Morris has been one of the hottest topics of debate for years now.
The black and white statistics tend to leave Morris on the wrong side of the fence. His 254-186 win-loss record is solid but unspectacular for a career spanning 18 years. The lifetime 3.90 ERA would be the highest for any Hall of Fame pitcher should he get in. And while he was consistently a top-five vote getter for the Cy Young award, he never actually took home the hardware. Most HOF hurlers have that individual accolade to pad their résumé; Morris does not.
Led All Pitchers in Wins
Those in support of Morris point to his having led all pitchers in wins during the 1980s. This is a meaningful stat and one that displays the consistency Morris had over an extended period of time. But still, being perched at the top of such a leader board does not necessarily mean you were ever the very best pitcher in any of those particular seasons. The Hall of Fame has always been like that. While it’s essential to be very good for a very long time, they also like to see that at some point, you were considered the absolute cream of the crop. Morris never really had that distinction.
But Morris checks all the boxes in the intangibles department.
He had team success in the form of three World Series titles. In 1984, he racked up 19 victories for the eventual champion Tigers, winning all three of his post season starts (including two complete game efforts in the Fall Classic). Morris picked up another 18 W’s in ’91 for the cinderella Twins, and again he flourished in the playoffs. He went 4-0 in his five starts, including what still stands as the most memorable series-clinching pitching performance in the game’s long history.
Squaring off against John Smoltz and the Braves in Game 7, Morris refused to give in. For nine dominant innings, he kept Ron Gant, David Justice, and NL MVP Terry Pendleton from touching home plate. But he didn’t come out after nine. That’s not who Morris was.
Pitch counts didn’t dictate his comings and goings like the aces of today. It was his game to win or lose, and so he went back out for the 10th. Foul out, strikeout, groundout; eight quick pitches and Morris had his defense sprinting off the field ready to scratch out a run for their workhorse. Minutes later, Dan Gladden was crossing the plate with the game’s only tally and Morris was billed as the modern-day Christy Mathewson. A 1-0, 10-inning masterpiece in the deciding game of the World Series. He could have walked away right then and there with his Hall of Fame candidacy very much in play.
Helped the Blue Jays
But he kept on pitching. The very next season, Morris banged out a career-high 21 at the ripe old age of 37, helping the Blue Jays secure their first-ever World Series trophy. There were a couple more forgettable years to follow, and that was that; a long, illustrious, championship-filled career that would befuddle Hall-of-Fame voters for the next two decades.
Those in opposition of Morris’ worthiness claim that too much weight is placed upon those three titles, and specifically, the heroics in ’91. But what’s wrong with placing more importance on the games that are frankly, more important?
The pressure is highest when there is the most on the line, and in those situations, nobody was steadier or more dependable than Jack Morris. He wasn’t Prince Fielder, cowering in the spotlight and vanishing into the October air. He wasn’t Don Larsen, a sub-.500 career pitcher that just so happened to toss a perfect game in the World Series. Morris was a guy that would pitch you into the playoffs with 35 starts and 250+ innings, then take you down that final furlong when the finish line was in sight.
Bill Mazeroski has a bust in Cooperstown. His career numbers don’t floor you -- the 2,000 hits leave him about a grand short of elite status. But Mazeroski happened to smack the most memorable home run in history, a Game 7 walk-off shot against the Yankees that gave Pittsburgh the 1960 championship. You can talk about the Gold Gloves and his hero status throughout Pennsylvania, but when it comes right down to it, Mazeroski’s place in the Hall is directly linked to that one swing of the bat.
And that’s okay. But don’t forget to also reward the man that essentially accomplished the pitching equivalent of that moment 31 years later.
Last year, Jack Morris received his most support yet, a more-than-respectable 67 percent of the voters printing his name in bold type. But the museum in Cooperstown, New York, needs to see 75 to let you in the door. This afternoon marks Morris’ final chance to grab that last eight percent.
Jack Morris was a man who always rose to the occasion when his name was called and the stakes were highest.
The only problem is, Game 7 is today and the ball is in the hands of somebody else.
