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After all of the problems with the Hall of Fame selections and snubs over the years, I think it's time to admit that a mere hall is in no way big enough to honor all of those whose baseball careers have been of note. I thus propose we change the Hall of Fame to the Center Hall Colonial of Fame.
The Center Hall Colonial Of Fame simplifies so many things. The eternal Pete Rose/Shoeless Joe/Clemens, Bonds & the Roids Boys debate? If we can't put them in the Hall, how about the First Floor Powder Room of Perpetual Shame, where they can all crowd about a small pedestal sink trying to wash away their sins with herb scented guest soaps and seasonally themed handtowels?
What to do with all of those really good designated hitters & relief pitchers not named Mariano Rivera? One room in the Center Hall Colonial of Fame is the Upstairs Home Office of the Celebrated, where those who worked part time but excelled in their role can enjoy the high backed leather chairs while surfing kinky porn, playing Angry Birds and every now and again getting some work done.
For all of those old cronies that the Veteran's Committee added over the years we have the Downstairs In-Law Suite of Respect, home to Ron Santo, Phil Rizzutto, Pee Wee Reese and their friends. The holes in the drywall? Well, we never could get Robin Roberts to stop throwing the ball in the house!
Just down the hallway and past the photos of the kids is the Home Theater and Rec Room of the Overrated, where those players whose highlight reels eclipse their lack of overall greatness hold sway-- look, there's Nolan Ryan sitting in the Barcalounger of Whiffs watching Walker, Texas Ranger! Watch Ozzie Smith turning backflips on the Gymboree mats! Cal Ripken never misses a day!
Way upstairs is the Attic Room of the Inconvenient Elderly, where we can keep all of those players whose inclusion in the old Hall gives lie to the idea that venerability equals greatness. In this sad, dusty room Rube Marquard eternally plays an imaginary game of catch with Johnny Evers behind rheumy eyes. Be sure to catch the video presentation of the sadly hysterical day that Evers got a hold of a Viagra pill dropped by a visitor and spent the rest of the afternoon trying to show everybody his recreation of Merkle's Boner!
Down one level are the Bedrooms of the Boring, a series of rooms and galleries where you can relive those faded memories of really sharp third inning singles and nicely turned double plays! You can almost always find Tony Gwynn preparing a midnight snack from one of the en suite mini-fridges or see Wade Boggs agonize over his many neuroses with the covers pulled way up to his chin!
Before heading for the main level, why not take a stroll through the Backyard and Gardens of the Bizarre? Some of the guys who are, well, just a bit quirky are honored among the shady paths, tot lot and gardens! Dizzy and Daffy Dean just love the monkey bars, Steve Carlton's Survivalist Bunker is just over there buried beneath the radish patch and Spaceman Lee received a special invite to be the Center Hall Colonial of Fame's official designer of aluminum foil headware! Always make sure that you are outside the clearly marked limits of George Brett's leash-- we like to keep him barking mad by constantly replaying the Pine Tar homerun on the video screens of his dog house!
Heading back inside on the main floor we get ever nearer to the main event. Just outside of the Formal Living Room of the Gods is the Foyer of the Very Good-- a place where Bert Blyleven's presence is never questioned, Jim Rice tends the bar and Don Mattingly visits often hoping for a place to hang out. Here we can safely view the legions of sometimes All-Stars, occasional MVP vote getters and Cy Young runners-up free of the incessant whining and fanboy bitching that too often forms the soundtrack of their lives. When you visit do beware of the frequently overturned coffee tables and stools-- Kirby Puckett is always knocking things over!
Finally, it's the room we've all wanted to see, the Formal Living Room of the Gods. Here Babe Ruth reigns supreme, Lou Gehrig is still the luckiest man in the entire world, Ted Williams plays Flight Simulator under a mounted blue marlin, Willie Mays basks in his own glow and Mickey Mantle drinks only the finest Scotch. Oh, if you're looking for Ty Cobb he's over there in the closet. He's refused to come out ever since Jackie Robinson got in.
The Center Hall Colonial Of Fame simplifies so many things. The eternal Pete Rose/Shoeless Joe/Clemens, Bonds & the Roids Boys debate? If we can't put them in the Hall, how about the First Floor Powder Room of Perpetual Shame, where they can all crowd about a small pedestal sink trying to wash away their sins with herb scented guest soaps and seasonally themed handtowels?
What to do with all of those really good designated hitters & relief pitchers not named Mariano Rivera? One room in the Center Hall Colonial of Fame is the Upstairs Home Office of the Celebrated, where those who worked part time but excelled in their role can enjoy the high backed leather chairs while surfing kinky porn, playing Angry Birds and every now and again getting some work done.
For all of those old cronies that the Veteran's Committee added over the years we have the Downstairs In-Law Suite of Respect, home to Ron Santo, Phil Rizzutto, Pee Wee Reese and their friends. The holes in the drywall? Well, we never could get Robin Roberts to stop throwing the ball in the house!
Just down the hallway and past the photos of the kids is the Home Theater and Rec Room of the Overrated, where those players whose highlight reels eclipse their lack of overall greatness hold sway-- look, there's Nolan Ryan sitting in the Barcalounger of Whiffs watching Walker, Texas Ranger! Watch Ozzie Smith turning backflips on the Gymboree mats! Cal Ripken never misses a day!
Way upstairs is the Attic Room of the Inconvenient Elderly, where we can keep all of those players whose inclusion in the old Hall gives lie to the idea that venerability equals greatness. In this sad, dusty room Rube Marquard eternally plays an imaginary game of catch with Johnny Evers behind rheumy eyes. Be sure to catch the video presentation of the sadly hysterical day that Evers got a hold of a Viagra pill dropped by a visitor and spent the rest of the afternoon trying to show everybody his recreation of Merkle's Boner!
Down one level are the Bedrooms of the Boring, a series of rooms and galleries where you can relive those faded memories of really sharp third inning singles and nicely turned double plays! You can almost always find Tony Gwynn preparing a midnight snack from one of the en suite mini-fridges or see Wade Boggs agonize over his many neuroses with the covers pulled way up to his chin!
Before heading for the main level, why not take a stroll through the Backyard and Gardens of the Bizarre? Some of the guys who are, well, just a bit quirky are honored among the shady paths, tot lot and gardens! Dizzy and Daffy Dean just love the monkey bars, Steve Carlton's Survivalist Bunker is just over there buried beneath the radish patch and Spaceman Lee received a special invite to be the Center Hall Colonial of Fame's official designer of aluminum foil headware! Always make sure that you are outside the clearly marked limits of George Brett's leash-- we like to keep him barking mad by constantly replaying the Pine Tar homerun on the video screens of his dog house!
Heading back inside on the main floor we get ever nearer to the main event. Just outside of the Formal Living Room of the Gods is the Foyer of the Very Good-- a place where Bert Blyleven's presence is never questioned, Jim Rice tends the bar and Don Mattingly visits often hoping for a place to hang out. Here we can safely view the legions of sometimes All-Stars, occasional MVP vote getters and Cy Young runners-up free of the incessant whining and fanboy bitching that too often forms the soundtrack of their lives. When you visit do beware of the frequently overturned coffee tables and stools-- Kirby Puckett is always knocking things over!
Finally, it's the room we've all wanted to see, the Formal Living Room of the Gods. Here Babe Ruth reigns supreme, Lou Gehrig is still the luckiest man in the entire world, Ted Williams plays Flight Simulator under a mounted blue marlin, Willie Mays basks in his own glow and Mickey Mantle drinks only the finest Scotch. Oh, if you're looking for Ty Cobb he's over there in the closet. He's refused to come out ever since Jackie Robinson got in.
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