The Induction Speech You Don't Want To Hear

Curt Schilling announced his retirement yesterday, just in time for the recession created by his pick for President (whoops, sorry, that was out loud) to dry up the market of team that were willing to pony up many millions of dollars under the possibility that he might come back and add to his career stats. And while one should never take an athlete at his word on the lack of a comeback, especially given how much green is still on the sidelines and how much a media whore like Schill craves the limelight, I do think we've seen the last of him. (If nothing else, the Red Sox have effectively doubled his role by bringing in John Smoltz and Brad Penny.)

Now, for the possibly surprising point for blog readers who are familiar with my longstanding enmity for Bloggy McBloggermouth... I think he's a lock for the Hall of Fame. If I had a vote, he'd be first ballot. As Rob Neyer has pointed out, he's basically got the Catfish Hunter career, only better.

You have to give the Mouth his due. A won-loss record that's 70 games on the positive side of .500, given how much of his time was spent toiling for terrible Phillies teams, is meaningful. So are the three championship rings, all of which were more or less impossible to imagine without his contributions. He also did it, as far as anyone can tell, without the needle, and for all of the man's considerable personal foibles, it would be genuinely shocking to find out that he was a liar on that.

He will be remembered, of course, not for the curiously hittable power mix that led to the 14th most strikeouts in MLB history (at least today), nor for the pioneering measure of writing his own blog. No, the legacy will be entirely wrapped in the Bloody Sock, baseball's Shroud of Turin. One wonders, really, whether it would have been worth all of the hullabaloo had "The Natural" not foreshadowed the entire episode, or if Fox hadn't given us pitch by pitch updates on the status of the blood, as if Big Schill were a boxer trying to limp home on points.

But in the end, results matter more than style, and on that count, Schill is no worse than the third-best right-handed starting pitcher of his era, behind only Clemens and Maddux. And since the Rajah is now seen as the utter reprobate that he always was, maybe he goes up to second.

He was durable, good and clutch, and he succeeds on the only measure that should matter for Hall of Fame inclusion.

That would be this: it's impossible to tell the story of the game during the time that he played without him, because he dominated his class and standing.

Now, if you don't mind, I need to go wash up. Having praised His 38ness that much just left me feeling all dirty.