Has Cooperstown Lowered the Bar? Why I Believe This Year’s Class Is the Hall of Very Good

Carlos Beltrán, Jeff Kent, and Andruw Jones were outstanding players. But were they truly Hall of Fame players? I don’t think so.

Every Hall of Fame weekend brings celebration, nostalgia, and debate.

This year is no different.

Carlos Beltrán, Jeff Kent, and Andruw Jones officially took their place among baseball’s immortals. They’re now forever linked with Babe Ruth, Willie Mays, Hank Aaron, Ken Griffey Jr., Mariano Rivera, and the greatest players the game has ever seen.

That’s exactly why I struggle with this class.

Let me be clear before anyone grabs their pitchforks: this isn’t an article saying these three weren’t excellent baseball players. They absolutely were. All three had remarkable careers. They were stars. They made All-Star Games. They won awards. They helped their teams win.

But being an excellent player and being a Hall of Famer are two different conversations.

To me, these players belong in what I’ve always called the Hall of Very Good.

Carlos Beltrán: Brilliant, But Never Baseball’s Best

Carlos Beltrán finished with 2,725 hits, 435 home runs, more than 300 stolen bases, nine All-Star appearances, three Gold Gloves, and two Silver Sluggers. His postseason numbers were spectacular, and for many years he was one of baseball’s most complete players.

But here’s my question:

When was Carlos Beltrán ever the player in Major League Baseball?

Was there ever a season where fans universally viewed him as the best player in the sport?

Did he ever win an MVP?

No.

He was consistently excellent.

He just wasn’t historically dominant.

Jeff Kent: Incredible Bat. Incomplete Resume.

Jeff Kent owns an impressive distinction as arguably the greatest offensive second baseman in baseball history. He hit 377 home runs, won the 2000 National League MVP, and drove in over 1,500 runs.

Those are remarkable accomplishments.

But Hall of Fame resumes aren’t built solely on offensive numbers.

Kent was never known as an elite defender. He made five All-Star teams over a 17-year career and never felt like one of the defining faces of baseball during his era.

He was outstanding.

I’m simply not convinced he was immortal.

Andruw Jones: A Tale of Two Careers

This is the toughest case of the three.

At his peak, Andruw Jones may have been the greatest defensive center fielder many of us have ever watched. Ten consecutive Gold Gloves is astonishing.

His 434 home runs certainly strengthen his argument.

But Hall of Fame careers aren’t supposed to be measured only by a player’s peak.

Jones’ decline came incredibly fast. After age 30, he was largely a role player bouncing between organizations. His greatness burned brightly—but briefly.

For me, longevity matters.

The Hall Should Feel Impossible

This is where I think the standards have shifted.

The Baseball Hall of Fame should be reserved for players who defined generations.

Players who changed how we viewed the game.

Players who were unquestionably among the very best of their era.

When I hear “Hall of Famer,” I think of names that don’t require debate.

If I have to spend twenty minutes explaining why someone deserves to be there, maybe that’s my answer.

Greatness Isn’t an Insult

Calling someone “Hall of Very Good” isn’t criticism.

It’s actually enormous praise.

Think about how many thousands of players have worn a Major League uniform.

To be remembered as one of the best players of your generation is an incredible accomplishment.

There’s nothing shameful about falling just short of Cooperstown in my personal standards.

In fact, I’d rather see the Hall leave out a few deserving players than slowly become easier to enter.

Because once you lower the standard, it’s almost impossible to raise it again.

Final Thoughts

Carlos Beltrán.

Jeff Kent.

Andruw Jones.

Three tremendous baseball players.

Three players I’d gladly tell my kids to watch on YouTube.

Three players who helped define baseball in the late 1990s and 2000s.

But when I think about the Baseball Hall of Fame, I think about the absolute pinnacle of the sport.

For me, that bar remains just a little higher.

Maybe I’m old-fashioned.

Maybe I’m in the minority.

But I’d rather the Hall of Fame remain exclusive—even if that means a few outstanding players spend eternity in what I still believe is the Hall of Very Good.