Now Entering the Hall of Fame

 (Robert Sabo/New York Daily News)

This should have been Hall of Fame Sunday in Cooperstown.

Derek Jeter, Larry Walker, Marvin Miller and Ted Simmons should have been honored today.

But, as we know, COVID-19 has taken most things away from us this year, so I'm hardly complaining.

Today did, however, lead me to read this piece by Bob Costas on The Players' Tribune.

The title alone said it all: "Sports Can’t Be Scripted."

No. It can not.

When you have a list of pithy one-liners, that takes away from the spontaneity of the moment.

In the case of Costas, he told the story of how he had a whole speech built up for Jeter's final at-bat. It was a noble goal, for sure, but Jeter scuttled the plans.



Costas made his call on the MLB Network and, as always, included the trademarks that have made him one of the best baseball voices ever. While he too often climbs into a pulpit to deliver his sermon, most of his play-by-play is filled with the reverence, humor, and boyish wonder for baseball that has served him well.

It is a brilliant call, and I'm even willing to forgive the great Jim Kaat for stepping on it slightly.

Over on the YES Network, Michael Kay described it as a moment "where fantasy becomes reality."

In the world of Yankees fans, it was just another iconic moment, even in a 21st Century that hasn't quite had its fill. The Mariano Rivera farewell just as special, hitting the heart in all the right ways.

But it can't be scripted. Oh, sure, we can have things in our minds but it's truly best to just be wide-eyed and ad-lib it.

I've scripted almost nothing, save for little things, such as the opening of the game I called at Fenway Park in 2008, because, well, I never thought I'd say those words. As such, I opened the game by saying, "Words I thought I'd never say in my life: Live from Fenway Park in Boston..."

In truth, I worried I'd stumble as I said them.

Anyway, I got off the subject of the post.

I also got to thinking about Jeter.

Hate him all you want. It's almost as American as hating the president or Joe Buck.

The guy -- who sucked, right? -- had 3,465 hits. For the record, that's SIXTH all-time. Peter Rose, Ty Cobb, Hank Aaron, Stan Musial, and Tris Speaker are above him. None of them sucked, that's for sure.

I mean, I'm not going to go down the rabbit hole of his numbers. No, he didn't win an MVP, despite history saying perhaps he should have won at least one. But he did win a World Series MVP to go along with five championship rings.

We know the iconic moments, beyond the final hit at Yankee Stadium. There's Mr. November, the Flip Play, the Dive (the one against the Red Sox and the one against the A's in the 2001 ALDS). There's the home run to open Game 4 of the 2000 World Series.

And on and on and on.

Was he helped by New York? Sure. Was David Ortiz helped by Boston? Was Mike Piazza helped by Los Angeles and Queens? Sure. Players have to be in the right place at the right time.

Look, I'm not doing this to ignite another (stupid) Derek Jeter debate because I have neither the energy or the time for it. Nor are either one of us going to change the mind of the other.

I bring this up today because I would have loved to have heard Bob Sheppard say the magic words, granted changing his usual phrase for a new one:

"Now Entering the Hall of Fame. From the New York Yankees, number two, Derek Jeter, number two."

But, we'll wait until next year. It will be quite a day when the class of 2020 and 2021 enter Cooperstown.