Whoever didn’t vote for Ichiro needs to stand up and own it

   

Ichiro Suzuki

Seattle Mariners right fielder Ichiro Suzuki bows at the end of a press conference to announce his retirement after Game 2 of the Major League baseball opening series between the Mariners and the Oakland Athletics in Tokyo Friday, March 22, 2019. (AP Photo/Eugene Hoshiko) APAP

To the voter who didn’t vote for Ichiro Suzuki, it’s time to come clean. To the Baseball Hall of Fame, it’s time to make all of the votes public.

When the results of the Baseball Writers of America’s ballots were announced on Tuesday, one voter out of 394 didn’t check the box next to Ichiro Suzuki. While most voters made their ballots public, the voter who prevented unanimity has chosen anonymity — at least so far.

That’s pretty cowardly.

Ichiro quite obviously has Hall of Fame credentials. So anyone who didn’t vote for him has to have a pretty specific reason. So let’s hear it. Anyone who thinks they have a good reason for voting against Ichiro should back that up. These are sportswriters casting these votes. In theory, articulating an argument shouldn’t be an issue. End the speculation.

Ichiro has been a lock to be inducted since well before he retired. This couldn’t have been an attempt to keep him out of Cooperstown. But if denying him unanimous enshrinement was the goal, it’s an empty gesture.

In 2019, Mariano Rivera became the first player to get in with 100 percent of the vote. He certainly wasn’t the best player in baseball history, but his sweep of the votes appeared to mean the end of old stubborn baseball writers believing if Babe Ruth hadn’t been elected unanimously then nobody should be.

Ichiro was a good bet and worthy of being second.

Tuesday should have been simply about celebrating his greatness as well as the careers of C.C. Sabathia and Billy Wagner. Instead part of that spotlight is on who didn’t vote for Ichiro and why.

Did they believe there were 10 worthier candidates? Or perhaps 11 worthy candidates? Maybe they knew Ichiro was getting in and wanted to give the other 10 their best chance.

Was there personal bias? Was this a protest vote? A stunt like Dan LeBetard tried in 2014 when he gave his vote to Deadspin? Was the voter simply trolling the system so they could watch the chaos they’ve created? Hopefully, it wasn’t anti-Asian racism, but it’s impossible to rule anything out.

Whether the logic is sound or bonkers, the voter should own it even if only for the integrity of the baseball writers.

On a daily basis, sportswriters ask coaches and athletes to explain why they made whatever ill-fated strategic decision they made. If Marcus Freeman has to answer why Notre Dame attempted a field goal late in Monday’s championship game, the fans and fellow media should be able ask us why we voted how we voted.

A great many sportswriters embrace the critique and welcome debate. We question, we criticize and open the door for our readers to do the same. Anyone unwilling to be held to the same standards should get out of the business.

Every time we publish, we invite the reader to reevaluate our knowledge and feel for baseball. That’s the way it should be. The ballot is simply another data point.

In 2014, the BBWAA members at the winter meetings voted 80-9 to make all of the votes public, but the Hall of Fame rejected it. Tuesday is a good reason for them to revisit and reconsider.

But that doesn’t fix the current scenario.

The vote was cast by 394 individuals, each coming with their own different knowledge, perspective and standards, but when one voter votes boldly and then refuses to stand by it publicly, their stunt becomes just another act of “the media.”

So own it. Explain it and get past it. The writer will take a cyber beating on social media for a day or two, but most of the backlash will be short-lived. Something else will happen to draw the spotlight elsewhere and by the end of the week, majority of sports fans will be thinking about Bills vs. Chiefs anyway.