An open letter to the Veterans Committee of the Major League Baseball Hall of Fame,
For yet another year you've kept Chicago Cub great Ron Santo out of your hallowed halls.
While Santo himself -- along with the vast majority of Cub nation -- are appalled by your decision, I applaud you, good sirs, with the thundering roar of 41,198 sets of clapping hands.
On the surface, some may say it makes little sense that the hall's golden gates would open for Joe Gordon and his .268 lifetime batting average and not for Santo. But I see the method behind your madness, Hall of Fame selectors.
You see ... the Hall of Fame as it stands is currently a Ron-less hall. And if Santo gets in, it'll only give hope to other Rons in the world.
Guys like Kittle, Karkovice, Dibble or Cey -- can we really afford to give these guys hope?
The hall is for men with real names. Names like Eppa Rixey, Heinie Manush, Rabbit Maranville, Home Run Baker, Dazzy Vance, Kenesaw Mountain Landis.
By keeping Ron Santo from joining your ranks, you've made him a martyr -- the Jesus, if you will, of this religion we call baseball. It was the 1993 masterpiece 'The Sandlot' that offered the following axiom: "there's heroes and there's legends. Heroes get remembered but legends never die."
This old Cub we call Santo may be getting older, but he's one legend that just refuses to die.