A Sad Day In Chicagoland

We lost one of the greats when Ron Santo died from bladder cancer Thursday at the tender age of 70. Santo might just be the best player ever to be considered and passed over for the Hall of Fame.

Santo's numbers are not startling and his teams unimpressive. His .277 average and 342 home runs in 15 seasons with the Cubs don't scream all-time great unless we listen to the echoes. His 1108 walks and 365 doubles helped him post a proud.362/.464 line that translates even 50 points higher when considering that the effective portion of his career -- 1961-72 -- was baseball's modern deadball era. Every year from 1963-1969, Ron Santo hit at least 25% better than average. Add to that his slick fielding at the hot corner and you have a truly great player.

Even more impressive, Santo never let on that he suffered from diabetes from the time he was 18, an often fatal disease 40 years ago. His doctor told the family that he could expect to live to 25. He famously smacked a grand slam once while suffering mid-game hypo-glycemia that was causing him to see triple. 

For this he was awarded 43% of the Hall of Fame vote. At his peak. In his final year of eligibility. 

Ron Santo never came close to an MVP award -- finishing fourth in 1967 -- because he was one of three great batsmen on decidedly mediocre squads. The Northsiders finished 7th-8th-8th-10th-3rd-3rd-2nd (the last three in division play) during his prime and never won a division or pennant -- much less a World Series -- during his career. Had Americans seen Santo play for two weeks straight in the post-season, they would have better appreciated his skills.

Which, ironically, is what many Cubs fans do with respect to Santo the announcer. Following his playing days, Santo spent 20 years pronouncing his love for the team over the airwaves. Beloved for his overt fandom, Ron Santo was below the Mendoza Line (the Rizzuto Line?) when it came to his radio play. He is very likely the single worst announcer of this millenium, and among the silliest and most grating I've ever heard. His admirers credit him with being "one of us in the booth." That is exactly the point. If I wanted to hear the irrational, biased frothing of the average cretin I'd sit in the bleachers with them and forget to drink. 

I don't know which would be sadder, for Ron Santo to be voted access to the Hall by the Veterans Committee now that he can't enjoy it or for Ron Santo to be voted access to the announcer's wing of the Hall despite his utter lack of contributions in that arena. In any case, he belongs in the former and not in the latter, irrespective of his existential status.

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