Tomorrow night, we’ll find out the results of the National Baseball Hall of Fame’s Contemporary Era ballot. The ballot is an opportunity for the Hall to reconsider the cases of players whose primary contributions
came from 1980 onwards and who failed to reach induction through the standard Baseball Writers of American balloting process. Eight players are on the ballot, including three former Yankees — Roger Clemens, Gary Sheffield, and Don Mattingly. To earn induction, a candidate must receive votes from at least 12 of the 16 members on the voting committee, the same 75-percent threshold as the BBWAA.
Although borderline to some degree, Mattingly’s Cooperstown case has long been a cause célèbre among Yankees fans and those who prioritize peak performance alike. The career .307 hitter made six All-Star teams, took home nine Gold Gloves, and won the 1985 MVP, though his production took a steep decline in his early thirties as back injuries limited his ability to contribute. The former Yankees captain is appearing on his fourth committee ballot and, after peaking at 50 percent of votes last time around in 2022, has cause for optimism this year. That’s due in large part to the voting committee’s composition. Kim Ng served as the Marlins’ GM while Mattingly was the club’s manager and spent many years in the Yankees’ organization, where he is held in high esteem. Jim Kaat, who broadcast perhaps Mattingly’s heroic swan song in the 1995 ALDS, has compared him favorably with Ted Williams and Stan Musial in the pantheon of sweet-swinging lefties. Tony Pérez is a friend and contemporary, as are Ozzie Smith, Alan Trammell, and Robin Yount. The Athletic writer Tyler Kepner has written glowingly about Mattingly’s latter-day role as a coaching mentor to the pennant-winning Blue Jays.
It’s all reminiscent of another Yankees legend who was inducted 31 years ago. After retiring in 1956, Phil Rizzuto had been bandied about as a Hall of Fame candidate on the strength of his MVP, seven World Series championships, and defensive reputation. However, like Mattingly, his truncated career—partially due to World War II sapping away three years in his twenties—fell short of the kind of counting stats that lead to a smooth induction process. Similar to Mattingly’s quiet 15-year run on the BBWAA ballot, Rizzuto received votes in 16 different years from 1956-76, never topping 40 percent. But, in late summer 1993, Rizzuto’s longtime broadcast partner, Bill White, best friend, Yogi Berra, and shortstop contemporary, Pee Wee Reese, were announced as members of that year’s Veterans Committee. So upon the announcement, it wasn’t lost on the public how it might benefit a man who had been waiting decades for his call.
Indeed, it was Berra himself who would get to share the news of his buddy’s induction. As the Scooter recounts in a typically colorful local news interview, he was mid-bite into a mortadella and mozzarella sandwich when his wife, Cora, handed him the phone. Yogi told his former teammate, simply, “Well, we got you in.”
Phil let out the best “holy cow” he could muster through the mozzarella. He then heard from the other members of the committee, including Reese, who told his former rival, “Congratulations, you should have been in with me a long time ago.” Rizzuto, who had long expressed modesty about his Hall of Fame chances publicly, was deeply moved by the honor.
“I just cannot believe it …When Yogi called and told me, I began to cry. I am as happy for my fans as I am for myself. This is the greatest thing that ever happened to me.“
But the best was yet to come. When Rizzuto finally got his day in the sun, the beloved ballplayer who had become an even more beloved announcer due to his trademark tangents and meandering anecdotes left it all on the field. He swatted away pesky flies. He espoused the virtues of southern fried chicken. He paused to ask White, a few rows back in the audience, “What’s that stuff that looks like oatmeal?” (he was searching for the word “grits”).
And, of course, the line that will live on forever in the hearts of Italian-Americans everywhere: “A day without cannolis is like a day without sunshine.” The speech went so long that Berra and Johnny Bench pretended to walk out, leading Rizzuto to quip that the two catchers “took too many foul balls to the mask.”
If you’ve never seen the full speech, it’s worth a watch.
Should the more reserved Mattingly gain enshrinement tomorrow, don’t count on as eccentric of a speech at next year’s induction ceremony. Still, these two very different players and people, who represent different eras of the game’s history, share much in terms of their potential path to the Hall, with Rizzuto providing something of a roadmap for his younger counterpart.
