Reflections of a Baseball Hall of Fame voter

Fifteen Baseball Hall of Fame ballots have come into my south St. Louis County home since the year 2000, and my stomach has churned filling out every single one of them.

A little background: It starts in September 1989, the day I walked into The Sporting News offices at 1212 N. Lindbergh Blvd., in St. Louis County. It was among the happiest days of my life. OK, maybe in addition to my wedding day and the birth of my two boys, but beyond that I can’t think of any day happier.

Amidst office décor that screamed 1960s functional, beyond computer wires strewn to and fro and typewriters scattered about, under a cigarette cloud and surrounded by the best collection of sports memorabilia anywhere, I took a deep breath and walked into an office filled with desks bearing nameplates this native St. Louisan had grown up reading and idolizing: Stan Isle, Bob McCoy and Larry Wigge.

It was then-editor Tom Barnidge who hired a young woman just weeks out of Northwestern University’s Medill School of Journalism. One of the first women to break The Sporting News’ editorial staff glass ceiling, I started working as an associate editor at The Bible of Baseball a few days after Bart Giamatti died of a heart attack.

The Sporting News issue that dealt with that tragedy — and Giamatti’s last act as commissioner in banning Pete Rose — was my first one. That fall, Miami Hurricanes football, the Loma Prieta earthquake that interrupted the World Series and a young NASCAR champion named Rusty Wallace all grabbed headlines in the gray, newsprint pages of The Sporting News. Also at that time, as was the custom for the small group of Sporting News editors, I was invited to join the Baseball Writers Association of America (BBWAA). I gladly accepted.

Over the course of the next 17 years, I covered, at various times, college football and college basketball, the NBA, and ultimately – and always – Major League Baseball. I witnessed The Sporting News go from glorious gray pages filled with box scores, statistics and agate type, to a variety of glossy, slick incarnations forced upon it by cable sports television and daily national newspaper. All the while, baseball remained the butter upon which the Sporting News churned, even as glorious publications such as the Baseball Guide, Baseball Register and countless annual yearbooks succumbed valiantly to something called the Internet.

Along the way, I had the privilege to learn and work under some of the finest sports journalists in the country, beginning with Tom Barnidge and then one of the finest gentlemen and mentors I’ve known in John Rawlings. Editors Dennis Dillon, Bob Hille, Celeste Williams, Steve Meyerhoff, Carl Moritz, Bill Marx and Cindy Boren all left indelible marks and taught me immeasurable lessons about journalism. And later, in a decade called the ’90s, I saw the best young talent come through our doors and help us figure out how to convert the Gray Lady into digital content with the likes of Mark Newman, Chris Jenkins, Aimee Crawford, Will Leitch, Sean Deveney and Ryan Fagan – all of whom continue, in one way or another, to take sportswriting to professionally staggering levels. At every stage, I worked with a collection of talent unmatched in journalism circles.

It’s this legacy I have carried with me each year since 2000, the first year I became eligible to vote and I looked at the paper ballot with trepidation and awe. Each year since, I have weighed the nominees carefully and with great consideration. And my great career at the Sporting News comes back to me.

I think about the baseball notes edited at 2 a.m. on a Monday morning on deadline, and the great conversations and arguments in the newsroom. I think about the baseball history I witnessed through the pages of a national magazine, from Pete Rose to Cal Ripken Jr. to Derek Jeter to Albert Pujols. I think about the World Series and All-Star games and clubhouses and pressboxes. I think about a cardboard membership card with the diamond logo that arrived each year in late winter. I think about the players and their legacies, and how that ballot I hold in my hand is one of the most important things I will do in my career. And on a cold December night, typically next to a glowing Christmas tree, I mark my selections and seal the envelope, my heart pounding with each pencil mark.

The voting process is not perfect, but the BBWAA is as much a part of baseball lore as the knuckleball and hitting for the cycle, and I’m honored to be a small part of it. One day, that could change and us honorary voters may get sent down for good. If that happens, it won’t change the fact that for 15 years, I’ve proudly, diligently, and with the utmost reverence to the game, contributed to the Baseball Hall of Fame.

In the meantime, I’ll keep voting as long as I’m asked, one of fewer than 20 women who have the privilege. For the record, my 15th ballot was marked with 10 players – the maximum number allowed. I cast votes for all four inductees, Craig Biggio, Randy Johnson, Pedro Martinez and John Smoltz. In addition, my votes this year went to Jeff Bagwell, Edgar Martinez, Mike Piazza, Tim Raines, Curt Schilling and Lee Smith.

Said Smoltz when he was told of his selection: “I’m honored, I’m humbled …”

So is this voter.

A version of this column appeared in the Jan. 9, 2015 issue of the South County Times.