Belle's attitude has to be considered in HOF voting

                    

	Albert Belle is eligible to be voted into the Hall of Fame this year. Doug Pensinger/Getty Images

"People want me to do things, be a certain way and that's not going to happen. I'm going to be Albert Belle."
-- Albert Belle, Sept. 26, 1998

I must confess my spirit slumped when I realized Belle was the most worthy (I use the word loosely) candidate on the new Hall of Fame ballot. To me, he's just another dreary example of impressive numbers obscured by depressing behavior.

When you think of Belle, do you remember that his average season was .295, 40 homers, and 130 RBIs and he was the first player to hit 50 homers and 50 doubles in a season (1995)? Or do you recall his ugly demeanor, corked bat and never-ending string of volcanic eruptions, including his profane tirade at Hannah Storm during the '95 World Series and firing a ball at photographer Tony Tomsic?

Personally, I recall accompanying a 12-year old leukemia victim to the '94 All-Star Game in Pittsburgh. The players treated the lad, who was working as a guest reporter for Sports Illustrated For Kids, like royalty -- all except Belle, who wouldn't even take his sulking head out of his locker long enough to acknowledge the kid's presence.

I am aware that Belle was an intelligent, sensitive, troubled man who ran afoul of the media and the public because he was reclusive and prone to lashing out. I realize numbers are king and the whole point of the Hall is to honor on-field excellence. Ty Cobb, virulent racist and public thug, is in there. If I want saints, I should contact the Vatican. Check.

What reddens my posterior is the increasingly common argument that elite athletes are entitled to do anything they want, no matter how harmful to others, and that we should all just shut up, accept it and honor them. Media members and fans can be first-class idiots, too, but is it too much to ask that we all try to handle annoyance and adversity with a smidgen of grace, class and dignity?

When I visit a Hall of Fame, I want to be inspired by players who evoke warm memories, rare or unique achievements, truly significant moments and, hopefully, personalities that enhanced their sports. Guys like Belle make for a gnarly visit. I don't have a vote in these matters, but in my quaint little book, if sourpusses and miscreants are going to be in the hall, their numbers had better be damned exceptional.

Belle is a clone of Dick Allen, the 1964 National League Rookie of the Year, '72 AL MVP, and Barry Bonds prototype -- a clubhouse outcast and front-office migraine with awesome power who was allowed to live by his own rules (he practiced when he felt like it). Allen became a villain in Philadelphia after a fistfight with popular teammate Frank Thomas. Like Belle, he insisted on engaging the media, the public and his teams in a pointless, ongoing war of words and taunts that only cloaked his talent in storm clouds.

Allen's career numbers (.292, 351 HR, 1,119 RBI, .534 slugging percentage) are close to Belle's (.295, 381, 1,239, .564) and he's up on Belle, two major awards (Rookie of the Year, MVP) to none. If Belle belongs in the Hall, so does Allen -- in a special Crustacean Wing for talented but infamous crabs. Bonds, Belle and Allen are shoo-ins. So are:

Billy Martin: His resume includes countless suspensions and booze-fueled brawls in nightclubs and with his own pitchers, not to mention the Texas Rangers' travel secretary and a marshmallow salesman, plus his fiery feuds with Reggie Jackson and George Steinbrenner. All of that makes his managerial career with its 1,253-1,013 career record, World Series championship, two AL. pennants and three division titles a bit of an afterthought.

Jose Canseco: His oily, clownish image, involvement with steroids, presence on the police blotter for domestic battery and automotive escapades (allegedly plowing his Porsche into his wife's BMW) tarnish his 462 homers, 1,407 RBIs, '86 AL Rookie of the Year and '88 AL MVP awards, six All-Star selections, four World Series appearances and the fact that he was baseball's first 40-40 player.

Canseco will be eligible for the Hall in 2007 when Tony Gwynn and Cal Ripken Jr. appear on the ballot for the first time. If you believe the hall is a place for players who were a credit to the game, then there is a world of difference between players like Gwynn and Ripken and the likes of Belle, Canseco and their ilk. It's a much nicer world, too.