Carlos Beltran becomes Hall of Fame voters' latest scapegoat, and that's not good
Former New York Met and past recipient of the Roberto Clemente award, Carlos Beltran, looks on from the field on MLB Roberto Clemente Day at Citi Field on Sept. 15, 2022. Credit: Kathleen Malone-Van Dyke
To the surprise of absolutely no one, Carlos Beltran wasn’t elected to the Hall of Fame Tuesday evening – a slap across the wrist for his entanglement in the Astros sign-stealing scandal, and, given his not abysmal voting numbers in his first year of candidacy, potentially a temporary one.
For now, this is no permanent injustice, especially since time usually softens the perception of sins like his, and there’s every chance that Beltran’s time will come. He’s a nine-time All Star, after all – a switch-hitting, five-tool player, and postseason producer whose career WAR of 70.1 matches that of Tuesday’s only inductee, Scott Rolen. And while there might be a small-hall argument for omitting Beltran, that’s not what seems to be happening here. Not when you’re on just 46% of ballots.
No, once again, baseball has found a scapegoat, and it’s holding on tight. And that’s a problem.
Whether it’s Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, whose candidacy turned voters into arbitrators of the sport's morality, or now Beltran, it remains fundamentally unfair to punish singular individuals for the actions of the whole.
Bonds and Clemens, who fell off the ballot last year, allegedly used performance enhancing drugs in an era when baseball turned a blind eye to steroid use – charmed, it seemed, by much it could profit from men who could hit the ball farther, or throw it harder, than they had before. Steroid use was rampant, and it’s still unclear who was using and who wasn’t; there’s every chance, too, that some of those users are enshrined. Because of the environment in which they played, their actions differ from someone like Alex Rodriguez, who willfully cheated in a time when the league finally cracked down on PEDs, and in doing so, incurred the longest-ever steroid suspension in league history.
Which brings us to Beltran. In a world where former Astros manager A.J. Hinch is now managing the Tigers, and Alex Cora, who masterminded the plot, is calling the shots in Boston, why is Beltran the only person still paying for what happened in 2017? To take the Bonds example further, wasn’t Beltran a product of his environment, too? Not only was his whole team involved, but the Red Sox and Yankees were also found guilty of electronic sign stealing, though to a much lesser degree.
Sure, guys like Jose Altuve are still booed, and Hinch and Cora were suspended. But it was Beltran who lost a job as Mets’ manager in early 2020 – pretty much ending his coaching career before it started. Suddenly, the player who spent a career being known for his character, leadership, and charity was so tainted that he was forced to stay away from the sport until this past season, when he returned as a YES analyst.
A lot of that feels intentional. Beltran was the only player named in the commissioner’s report on the electronic sign-stealing scandal, and allegedly fine-tuned the operation. But look at how it was presented, per the report: “Approximately two months into the 2017 season, a group of players, including Carlos Beltran, discussed that the team could improve on decoding opposing teams’ signs and communicating the signs to the batter.”
“A group of players,” but only one named. And that’s simply because Beltran’s greatest sin was retiring at the end of the season. Commissioner Rob Manfred granted players immunity in exchange for their testimonies, and incidentally, not naming active players also meant the league could sidestep potential grievances with the players’ union. Having Beltran in there, though, still allowed one person to be punished in a very distinct way. A person, it should be noted, that didn’t seem to benefit all that much from what he was doing: Beltran hit .231 in his last year.
None of this is to say that Beltran’s cheating should be wholly condoned – simply that he’s paid his dues. Additionally, this isn’t the last time this is going to happen. There’s always going to be a group of people trying to game the system, and there are always going to be scapegoats. But we can fix how we respond to clear efforts to over-simplify wrongdoing. Even in the low-stakes world of sports, it does no good to live in a black and white world that leaves little room for nuance or real fairness.
Bonds and Clemens should have been Hall of Famers, and Beltran should be one, too. Good thing there are nine more years to get that last one right.
Laura Albanese is a reporter, feature writer and columnist covering local professional sports teams; she began at Newsday in 2007 as an intern.
