Andre Dawson Deserving of Long Overdue Call From the Hall

Jim Rice's lengthy Hall of Fame snub? Actually, that made sense. His personality was about as pleasant as slurping whatever sits at the bottom of Boston Harbor. Many of those that he offended were voters. So, since he was a marginal candidate anyway for Cooperstown, he wasn't going to make it, or he barely was going to cross the city limits. He was elected during his 15th and final year of eligibility, which happened in 2009 by the slimmest of margins.

Andre Dawson?

This makes no sense. As a player, Dawson had the numbers and the personality. In fact, nobody of any stature was classier during his baseball career than Dawson, a gentle warrior, who joins Willie Mays and Barry Bonds as the only folks with more than 400 home runs, 1,500 RBIs and 300 stolen bases.

Lou Gehrig. Ted Williams. Jimmie Foxx. Reggie Jackson.

Well, Dawson has more career hits than all of them. Just like Dawson has more career home runs than Johnny Mize, Joe DiMaggio, Ralph Kiner and Yogi Berra. And Dawson has more RBIs than Willie Stargell, Al Kaline and Mickey Mantle.

Everybody I just named outside of Dawson and Bonds (who has that little steroids issue) already is in Cooperstown.

That's why, as a Hall of Fame voter who has placed a check mark next to Dawson's name during his nine years on the ballot, I wish to issue a public apology to the guy on behalf of my peers for making him wait this long. And, yes, Dawson is suffering, but not only because of his famously bad knees. He is suffering from Cooperstown anxiety, which is huge. He was a noted player of composure during his 21 seasons with four different teams. Even so, since 2002, whenever early January draws near to bring word of another Hall of Fame class, he becomes an absolute mess.

"Yeah, I'm always nervous this time of year, because you keep hearing people coming up to you and saying, 'This is the year. This really is the year, and you should have been in already,' but then you have that uncertainty," Dawson told FanHouse on Monday from his native Miami, where he works as an executive for the Florida Marlins. "In the past, I didn't really prepare for it, because I kind of had the sense that, if a guy's going to get in, he's probably going to be tipped off if he's close. That way he can have time to start making preparations.

"I just never had that gut feeling that I would get the call. So I'd only make sure I'd be available, especially at home, maybe 30 minutes before the announcement. But this year, it's a little bit different. I am extremely nervous about it.

"I don't know. I really don't know."

Neither do I, but logic says Dawson finally will exhale on Wednesday, when this year's Hall of Fame results are released. He has watched his vote count rise on a consistent basis. He was at 67 percent last year, and you need 75 percent for entry. Then again, logic often is thrown out at home plate in these cases. Take Catfish Hunter, Don Sutton and Phil Niekro, for instance. While those pitchers are Hall of Famers, Bert Blyleven isn't, and his resume is comparable or better.

Nevertheless, Dawson is going to lay his heart in the open on Wednesday with hopes that Hall of Fame voters don't smash it to pieces. His day will begin with a 7 a.m. trip from his home in Miami to the gym. After that, he will return around 10 o'clock to work around the yard and perform other household chores. "Then probably from, I guess . . . Well, I don't know what time the announcement will come (It will be around 2 p.m.)," Dawson said. "I didn't even bother to ask any of the prior inductees about what time they were called. But I'll probably just sit around the house from noon until the announcement."

In other words, Dawson really expects to make it this time.

I mean, he really does.

So do others, including Dawson's wife, Vanessa. She'll join Andre in hosting relatives and friends throughout much of the Cooperstown vigil, and they'll likely jump toward the bright Florida sun after every ring of the phone. "I haven't done this in the past, but I'm going to keep my daughter home (in anticipation of the announcement)," said Dawson, referring to 18-year-old Amber, a high school senior. "She already told me that she isn't going to school (on Wednesday), so I didn't get into it with her in that regard. I'm taking a chance.

"See, with me, I kind of shun that kind of thought of what happens if I don't make it, because I don't want to see them disappointed. I could probably handle it, but I wouldn't want to see the disappointment with them. But this year, I'm going to take a chance, and we're all going to be around the house waiting."

Oh, boy. The more I think about it, the more I believe that enough of my peers did do the right thing by picking Dawson when they turned in their ballots before New Year's Day. I do believe that enough of them chose Roberto Alomar, the brilliant second baseman who is in his first year of Hall of Fame eligibility. He was a master at base stealing and at producing runs. He also won 10 Gold Gloves while hitting .300 or higher during nine of his 17 seasons in the major leagues.

Other than Alomar -- along with manager Whitey Herzog and umpire Doug Harvey, already picked by the Veterans Committee -- I believe that everybody else will have to wait. That includes Barry Larkin and Fred McGriff, both in their first year of eligibility, both checked on my ballot, both deserving of Cooperstown right now.

But neither Larkin nor McGriff will make it this time.

Dawson should, and maybe he will. Otherwise, he'll spend late Wednesday afternoon with a house full of cranky people -- starting with himself.