Baseball Hall of Fame: Peak players, PED guys on Mike Axisa’s ballot, plus a surprising Ichiro consideration

Rule No. 1 in this business is don’t make yourself the story, and I’m going to break that rule today. Last year was my 18th year writing about baseball in some capacity. Year 1 was an amateur-hour blog at blogspot. In Year 2, I started a slightly less amateurish blog with some pals. Then came gigs with MLB Trade Rumors in Year 4 and FanGraphs in Year 6. That all led me here, to CBS Sports, in Year 8. Somehow I’m still going entering Year 19.

Over the years I’ve been fortunate to cover a lot of really cool games. I wasn’t just there when the Cubs ended their 108-year World Series drought, I was in the clubhouse for the celebration. I covered the Rays‘ Game 162 comeback in 2011, Derek Jeter’s walk-off single in his final game at Yankee Stadium, and Howie Kendrick hitting Houston’s foul pole in 2019. I covered games in empty stadiums during the pandemic, something I never ever ever want to do again. I’ve also covered hundreds of forgettable games during the dog days of summer. I love them. Chill nights at the ballpark are the best perk of the job.

I was accepted into the Baseball Writers Association of America in 2015, which is something I never expected to happen, and now, after the requisite 10 years in the BBWAA, I am a Hall of Fame voter. I’m not gonna lie, when I was informed my voting status had been approved, I got a little emotional. Eighteen years writing about baseball is about 18,000 years in internet time. I remember when 15 hits was a big traffic day. It’s been a long road to get here, but here I am.

Over the last few weeks, I sorted through the names and filled out my Hall of Fame ballot, and even after I sealed the envelope and mailed it out, I second guessed myself. Should I have voted for this guy rather than that guy? I suppose that’s natural for a first-time Hall of Fame voter, and maybe even for a veteran voter too. In the end, I voted for the maximum 10 players, and would have voted for two more if the rules allowed. Here’s my 2025 Hall of Fame ballot:

I’m a firm believer in comparing a player to his era and his contemporaries rather than the entirety of baseball history. That doesn’t mean the best of the generation are automatically Hall of Famers, though things usually work out that way. I also view postseason performance as something that can elevate a player’s Hall of Fame candidacy, but not subtract from it. I won’t ding a player for a rough showing in October. As for performance-enhancing drugs, I explain my feelings below.

Accountability and transparency are of paramount importance in this business. If you won’t explain yourself, how can you expect the players and people you write about to do the same? How could you expect readers to take you seriously? To that end, here is why I filled out my Hall of Fame ballot the way I did. The players are listed in no particular order.

Ichiro Suzuki

The easiest box to check this voting cycle. Ichiro meets all the statistical benchmarks (3,089 hits, 509 stolen bases, .311 batting average, 60.0 WAR, etc.) and more than satisfies the “fame” component of Hall of Fame. He achieved one-name-only status — Babe, Jackie, Pedro, Rickey, Ichiro — and was a phenomenon. A global icon revered on two continents, and quite possibly the coolest player of his generation. Peak Ichiro was something else. The speed, the defense, the bat-to-ball … Ichiro was as good as a player can possibly be without hitting home runs. I’m not in the business of giving people grief over their Hall of Fame ballots, but I can’t see how anyone could consider Ichiro undeserving. He’s a slam-dunk, no-doubt-about-it, first-ballot Hall of Famer.

Billy Wagner

Although this is my first year with a Hall of Fame vote, I’ve thought about my hypothetical ballot for years (decades, really), and I’ve done a greater 180 on Wagner than any other player during that time. When he first appeared on the BBWAA’s ballot in 2016, I certainly understood Wagner was one of the game’s best relievers during his generation, but I thought he was short of the Hall of Fame. Only 903 career regular-season innings, a one-inning reliever the majority of his career, etc.

Over time, though, I came to appreciate Wagner’s per-inning dominance — he is the all-time leader in strikeout rate and opponent’s batting average — and, just as importantly, the context. The Hall of Fame standard for relievers can’t be Mariano Rivera, nor it can be guy like Rollie Fingers and Goose Gossage, who started their careers more than 50 years ago and played in the era of 100-inning relievers and 2-3 inning saves. Reliever usage has changed over time. Our Hall of Fame standards should as well.

Wagner pitched when teams used their best reliever in the ninth inning and only in the ninth inning. His overall lack of innings is the result of reliever usage of his era, not his shortcomings. Wagner routinely struck out more than a third of the batters he faced back when the league strikeout rate was below 20%. For his career, Wagner’s strikeout rate was 90% better than the league average — almost double! — the best mark among pitchers who began their careers within the last century.

In terms of missing bats and limiting hits, Wagner was ahead of his time. He put up 2024 strikeout rates from 1995-2010 and, again, his .187 opponent’s average is the lowest in history. It’s not close either. Nolan Ryan is a distant second at .204. Relative to his era, Wagner is one of the most dominant pitchers in history. I went from thinking he was short of Hall of Fame worthy to believing he belongs in Cooperstown, and I’m glad I had a chance to vote for him in his final year on the ballot.

Mark Buehrle and Andy Pettitte

Similar to Wagner and modern relievers, our Hall of Fame standards for starting pitchers need updating. We can’t expect 300 wins anymore. We can’t expect 38 starts and 275 innings a year, or 4,000 career innings. The only constant in baseball history is pitchers throw less over time. The four-man rotation became the five-man rotation, the five-man bullpen became an eight-man bullpen, etc. We shouldn’t compare modern pitchers to the those who pitched when the game looked very different.

Neither Buehrle nor Pettitte was the best pitcher of the era, or even one of the four best pitchers of the era. They overlapped with Roger Clemens, Randy Johnson, Greg Maddux, and Pedro Martinez. Both were in that next tier though. The “very good every season for the better part of two decades” guy, and both had signature moments. Pettitte had some terrific showings in the postseason, most notably Game 5 of the 1996 World Series. Buehrle too, plus he threw a no-hitter and a perfect game. Their careers are remarkably similar, statistically:

I’m not big on win-loss record. I only included them in the table for your reference. Anyway, I see two of the generation’s great workhorses — Pettitte made deep postseason runs almost every year with the late 1990s and early 2000s Yankees, meaning he pitched an extra month and had one less month to recover in the offseason every year — and they were both considerably better than league average. The best ability is availability, and these two were always available.

Buehrle’s and Pettitte’s Hall of Fame cases are built on longevity more than peak value, though both had excellent peaks and were not out of place as the No. 1 starter on a contending team. Buehrle was second in WAR behind Hall of Famer Roy Halladay from 2000-15. Pettitte was eighth in WAR from 1995-2013. I did not build my Hall of Fame ballot solely on WAR. I’m just showing where they stood relative to their peers, which was pretty high up there. Again, two of the best pitchers of their era.

I will say that Buehrle and Pettitte are the lower end of what I consider a Hall of Fame starting pitcher. I typically would like to see more strikeouts — Pettitte finished with 2,448 strikeouts, Buehrle only 1,870 — though they make up for it with the sheer volume of high-quality innings. Fifty-one pitchers have a 117 ERA+ or better in at least 3,000 career innings and only 19 began their careers after integration. Pettitte and Buehrle are two of the 19. They’re Hall of Famers to me. 

CC Sabathia

For me, Sabathia is a step above Mark Buehrle and Andy Pettitte, two other lefties who fronted the rotation of World Series champions. Sabathia threw several hundred more innings (3,577 ⅓) of almost exactly the same quality (116 ERA+) as Buehrle and Pettitte, plus he won a Cy Young (2007) and crossed the 3,000-strikeout threshold. Sabathia is third all-time in strikeouts among lefties:

1. Randy Johnson: 4,875
2. Steve Carlton: 4,136
3. CC Sabathia: 3,093
4. Clayton Kershaw: 2,968
5. Mickey Lolich: 2,832

Sabathia’s 2008 run with the Brewers was legendary — seven complete games in 17 starts, including his final three starts on short rest to give Milwaukee its first postseason berth in 26 years — and his signature moment, in my eyes. His peak from 2006-12 was legitimately best pitcher in baseball stuff: 228 innings a year with a 140 ERA+. Sabathia checks both boxes as a guy who had both a great peak and longevity. I wasn’t certain I would vote for Buehrle and Pettitte. I had no real doubt about Sabathia though.

Manny Ramirez and Alex Rodriguez

The numbers are undeniable. Manny and A-Rod are two of the greatest right-handed hitters ever (Rodriguez is one of the greatest all-around players in history) and their resumes warrant first ballot Hall of Fame induction. Neither is in the Hall of Fame because of performance-enhancing drug use, and in this case their transgressions are confirmed, not speculative. Ramirez tested positive twice and was suspended twice. A-Rod admitted his use and served the longest PED suspension in baseball history in 2014.

I don’t begrudge anyone (including my colleague Matt Snyder) who leaves Manny, A-Rod, and all the PED guys off their Hall of Fame ballot. It is my belief that Ramirez and Rodriguez were punished in accordance with the rules at the time, and served their suspensions, so, for me, it’s case closed. They were already punished. I also think it’s hypocritical that Bud Selig, who oversaw the Steroid Era and didn’t crack down on PEDs until the players pushed for testing, is in the Hall of Fame while these players are not.

Ramirez and Rodriguez did more than enough to earn Hall of Fame selection on the field. They were great, great players. They used PEDs, we know that for a fact, and they were punished for doing so. I understand what is asked of me as a Hall of Fame voter and I take that responsibility seriously. I don’t believe that means handing down extrajudicial punishment. MLB and the MLBPA agreed to testing and discipline protocols, and Manny and A-Rod were punished accordingly. That’s enough for me. 

Carlos Beltrán

At his peak, Beltrán was pretty much the perfect player. He hit for average, he hit for power, he got on base, he played elite defense at a premium up-the-middle position, and he stole bases with volume and efficiency. His 2003-11 run was incredible: .283/.371/.511 (131 OPS+) with 220 homers and 184 steals, and 5.0 WAR per season. For his career, Beltrán finished with 2,725 hits, 435 homers, and 312 stolen bases, and, again, he was a top-of-the-line defensive center fielder at his peak. Beltrán’s 2004 postseason was legendary (20 for 46 with eight homers), plus he racked up All-Star Games and Gold Gloves and MVP votes (but no MVP award).

Beltrán is an easy Hall of Fame player to me and the biggest knock against his candidacy is his involvement with the Astros‘ sign-stealing scandal at the end of his career. He was the only player named in MLB’s investigation (he publicly acknowledged his involvement afterward), which was conducted after Beltrán retired. He was not disciplined, though he did “mutually part ways” with the Mets soon after being named manager because the scandal had become a distraction. Similar to Manny and A-Rod, my thoughts on Beltrán’s sign-stealing scandal involvement is that the league investigated and handed out the discipline it deemed fit, which in this case was none. To me, the case is closed.

Bobby Abreu

Chronically unappreciated during his time in Philadelphia, peak Abreu authored a .308/.416/.525 (143 OPS+) line and averaged 41 doubles, 23 homers, and 29 steals per season from 1998-2004. He was ahead of his time in terms of working the count, drawing walks, and getting on base. Abreu finished his career with 2,470 hits and 1,476 walks (20th all-time!), and is top 50 in career times on base. That puts him in the same range as Hall of Famers Tony Gwynn, Reggie Jackson, and Tim Raines. In fact, Abreu reached base more times than Gwynn (3,979 vs. 3,955) despite fewer plate appearances (10,232 vs. 10,081). I point that out to elevate Abreu, not diminish Gwynn. Abreu was a terrific hitter with a career .291/.395/.475 (128 OPS+) mark, and he was a very good defender early in his career (not so much at the end). Peak Abreu was close to a five-tool player. I know he’s more of a stathead Hall of Famer than a traditional Hall of Famer, but Abreu was indeed one of the best hitters of his era and one of the best on-base guys ever.

Chase Utley

Similar to Beltrán, Utley at his peak was one of the best hitters in the game and also a top of the line defender at a premium up-the-middle position. He was a great baserunner too, though he never put up huge stolen base totals. From 2005-09, Utley hit .301/.388/.535 (135 OPS+) and averaged 29 homers per year while being the best defensive second baseman in the game. He rattled off five consecutive 7-WAR seasons before a gentle decline into perennial 3-WAR territory in his 30s. There were two other pretty good second basemen on this year’s Hall of Fame ballot — Ian Kinsler and Dustin Pedroia — though Utley was the superior hitter with a much higher peak. He is one of the greatest second basemen ever, truly, especially in terms of peak value. What a ballplayer. 

Others considered

I voted for the maximum 10 players and would have also voted for Andruw Jones, who had an incredible peak and was maybe the greatest defensive center field ever. I also would have voted for Félix Hernández because he had about a 10-year run as one of the two or three best pitchers in the world. Ultimately, I went with Buehrle and Pettitte over King Félix because they had greater overall career value (several hundred more innings with an identical ERA+, to keep it short). Ryan Thibodaux’s public ballot tracker suggests Hernández will get the minimum 5% needed to say on the ballot, and I’m happy about that. I expect to vote for him in the future.

Pitch-framing gods Russell Martin and Brian McCann are on the Hall of Fame ballot for the first time this year and I kept going back and forth on them. Ultimately, I didn’t have room even if I wanted to vote for them. I just have some reservations about pitch-framing. It’s a valuable skill, clearly, though I’ve never been fully comfortable with the numbers and the precision with which they are presented. I’m going to need to figure out the framing thing soon because Yadier Molina joins the ballot in a few years.

I did consider strategically omitting Ichiro, meaning I would have counted on my fellow Hall of Fame voters to put him in, and given the vote I earmarked for Ichiro on a player who might have a harder time getting in (or even just staying on the ballot). Jones and Hernández were considerations there. So too were Dustin Pedroia and David Wright. I’m not sure Pedroia and Wright are Hall of Famers, but I’m not ready to say they’re not Hall of Famers either. Voting for them just to keep them on the ballot so I could consider them further in the future was a thought that crossed my mind.

In the end, I decided against leaving off Ichiro. I just felt like I should vote for the players I consider the most deserving, which forced me to essentially rank the players I consider Hall of Famers. The 10-vote limit forced me to pick the 10 most deserving rather than simply say yes/no on everyone. I don’t like it, but it is the system. I hope I get a chance to vote for King Félix in particular next year. I didn’t have room to do it this time around, but compared to his era, his peak was about as good as it gets.