Critique | Player |
Knuckle-ball hurling trash. Good god, man, it took you 800 games to win 300. I'm better than him. | |
Polish. Too many home runs. Fun fact: nicknamed 'Bucketfoot' due to syphilitic gangrene. I'm better than him. | |
He's ok. Cheap tipper. Real men win their only appearance in the World's Series. I'm better than him. | |
It is no fun to be elected to the Hall of Fame only after you have died. I know. | |
More sabermetric semen has been spilled over this man than any other player. I approve of his narcotics use. | |
Would not have been allowed to play in my day, a rare case of this rule benefiting everyone. | |
Nice fellow. IQ on par with the village idiot. This big lummox is not better than me. | |
Milquetoast lefty with a strike zone larger than E. Gregg. Not a bride or bridesmaid but rather the groom's ugly sister. | |
All man. Led the league with 7, 9, 9, 9, 8 CG from 2007-2011. The future is weak, soft, and pathetic. | |
'We need a guy from the black and white days to establish our bona fides. Oh, look at the clock. Time to worship T. Tebow.' | |
In my day, a man hit by 285 pitches dies 285 times. | |
Less popular with his team-mates than polio. Gave up 303 home runs, one for each of the fatherless children he abandoned. | |
__________________ The space above that line is white, just like the game that filthy racist insisted we play. | |
Teutonic lout who, despite his Fordham years, had to be reminded the difference between left and right. Generous with beer. | |
I can't do it. The rare case of ESPN getting something right, down to the number of his rank. | |
Fun test: ask a scribe if 'enigmatic' is secret code for 'IQ of 7.' I would have loved to have this guy on my team. | |
Robbed of approximately 1,223 home runs by Forbes Field according to sane, rational Pirates fans. | |
Would be ranked higher but angered all the scribes when the fellatio they gave him in 1998 gave them oral cancer in 2005. | |
Trash. Never won more than 31 games. Earned his moniker from a Shanghai madam after she espied his manhood. | |
His inclusion is a tribute to the loyal fans of Brooklyn, who mercifully are all dying and can finally shut up. | |
A worthy inclusion. Stole the 1937 MVP award from an Italian. Good man and fine patriot. | |
'Fun fact: Pitched 28 consecutive complete games.' Go to hell. | |
Ranked too low. But: poor back and shoulder hygiene is scientific proof of PEDs. M. Chass says so. This is a tough one. | |
Cocaine abusing ageless wonder should be ranked #1. Black men who hit well in their 40s face harsher scrutiny. | |
Ego larger than you. If he had never lived there would be no 'Good Will Hunting.' This would have been a fine thing. | |
Insightful opinions on bestiality. Had he but done his job, we would never again speak of J. Morris. | |
A fine soldier in M. Schott's fascist army. A hard worker who committed the war crime of naming a child after Shea stadium. | |
An Old Hoss Radbourn Hall of Famer from head to toe to expectoration to sexual disease transmission. | |
Flatulent fellow from the perfidious Low Countries. Overcame these handicaps to have a fine career. I'm better. | |
A perfectly acceptable 1999 AL MVP assuming the untimely deaths of P. Martinez, R. Alomar, M. Ramirez, and D. Jeter. | |
Under-appreciated ace who in a moment of passion made the key mistake of not swinging the bat hard enough. | |
Nicknamed 'The Big Hurt' because your ears bleed when listening to him attempt to speak. Parlayed this skill into a TV job. | |
It is nigh time to acknowledge the unspoken truth: while batting he looked like a defecating monkey. | |
Aided by guts, courage, and by being a 1/4 time player in a masturbatory media market which needed to pen a hagiography. | |
| Critique | Player |
Blah blah blah ball doctoring. I don't give two trips to the outhouse about this fellow. Where am I on this list? | |
Versatile player who hit his peak in his breakout 1983 with Trading Places. | |
Genial man who earned his nick-name after murdering V. Powers' entire family during a dispute over a game of Parcheesi. | |
Hard-hitting American hero who displayed great personal courage by playing in the wasteland of Detroit. He's very good... | |
Canadian (-1) Pharmaceutical smuggler (+1) who has compromising photos of a prominent Sweet Spot Blogger. | |
Demented serial killer living a cover life as a chubby singles-hitting jolly fellow. You have been warned. | |
All-glove, no-bat shortstop who could have been from my era except for the black thing. Forced out by T. LaRussa, that ass. | |
No complaints. Earned his moniker from his first girl-friend. By the way, remember when Sports Center was fun? I don't. | |
Good player with odd performance spike in '82 due to encased meat abuse. 'Bud' Selig keeps a picture of (him) above his bed. | |
Noted Irish explorer who landed at his eponymous cove off San Francisco in 1852. Later in life became a spice trader. | |
Italian catcher, the worst of two worlds. Yet it is fun to throw things at Italians. Cursed us all with his son, Dale. | |
Would be much higher on this list had he killed the queen. Sic semper tyrannis, candy man. | |
Enjoyed fornication, beer, chicken, loose women, smashing doubles, invisibility, and his mustache. The consummate team-mate. | |
Whatever. | |
Bold to rank him so high. If you really wanted to take a stance, ESPN, you'd have included Negro Leaguers. | |
'Let's play two!' You idiot. In my day you played two because the other option was the stocks. | |
Are you insane? 50? 12 below (#38)? Pro tip: if you smoke opium whilst making a list, proofread your work. | |
Remember when he hit .364 as a broken 36-year-old and faced no scrutiny? It's nice to be white. | |
Overcame natural Gallic cowardice to have a brilliant career. Sure, rank him 48th, ESPN. It's only a man's name. | |
'...a 31-4 record with a 2.06 ERA and 27 complete games in 1931.' Oh my. How amazing. Try 59-12, 1.38 ERA and 73 CGs in 1884. | |
I really like him. Should be higher. But perhaps S. Brosius or 'Trot' Nixon needed to be squeezed into the top 25. | |
This one . . . actually I like this one. | |
My 1884 had I pitched in Dodger Stadium: 74-1, 75 CG, 700 IP, 825 K. | |
As a rule I never found that having the reputation of 'able to catch anything' paid off in the places I frequented. | |
'Fun fact: All-time leader in assists (7,630) by a second baseman.' Nice to see ESPN using stats relevant in (his) day. | |
Fun fact: actually kept a 'little person' around as a human pet. Many of my friends died to keep that from happening, sir. | |
Polish potato farmer who went to Notre Dame. Overcame these handicaps to have a very fine career. | |
Beautiful swing. Failed to use it as god intended: beating the Irish. Alas. RIP. | |
Hahahahahahahahahahahahhaha oh my lord no, there's no East Coast bias here, oh no. | |
Boy, B. James sure picked the wrong pony with this one. | |
Should be about 10 or so spots higher. ESPN's technicolor oppression of the black and white generation continues unabated. | |
So tough he completed 222 of his 773 starts. And yet (#50) languishes at 50. | |
In a perfect world he is frozen in time in 1999, leaving us the memory of absolutely joyful base ball. | |
A serial killer of the (#61) model. Fooled everyone. | |
| Critique | Player |
A man of epic stature, endurance, and mean-ness who failed to fire one right through T. McCarver's face. | |
Shockingly rude of him not to catch (his) Disease and pass away before breaking (#11's) streak. | |
You had him and barbecue, Kansas City, and (he's) not coming back. | |
Great hurler. Gassed in the 1st World War. Good job, ESPN. Demerits for keeping bloviating loads like S.A. Smith around. | |
Fun fact: managed a female professional base ball team, which along with a perpetual poppy plant is my dream. | |
A fine player and leader of the Great Red Machine in their movement to unseat L. Trotsky and establish Stalinist dominance. | |
Completed 254 of his 709 starts, which makes him a veritable ironman in this gynocratic future of yours. | |
'(He) is one of the most underrated players in history.' Bah! Excellent work reifying that by ranking him so low | |
Greatest Met of all time, which is like naming syphilis the king of venereal diseases. 231 CG in 20 years. Took me 5 months. | |
A trebuchet in a land of crossbows. 100 CG over 22 years. The Big Unit had little stamina. Typical. | |
Ordered a lad off his lawn then beat him with a tire iron anyway. Golfed his way to Washington as the Expos burned. | |
Italian. Overcame it. Done a tremendous disservice by R. Cramer, as readers mistook salacious mudslinging for journalism. | |
Had many talents, the greatest being inserting his head so far up his posterior as to not understand the game he dominated. | |
Slugging grouch. Wears his heart & faith on his sleeve and wants you to know it. Cards fans were classy indeed when he left. | |
Unappreciated due to scribal belief his inability to manage his persona is more important than how well he does his job. | |
Well, you won in the end, (name). I see the award for seasonal excellence is named after your consistent mediocrity. Kudos. | |
He was great. Big deal. Try that cutesy stance with me, sir, and you would die. | |
'Never smoked or drank.' I think that sums it up. | |
Every single story you've heard is true, including his groundbreaking work at the Jet Propulsion Lab on 'Project (name).' | |
Fine hurler despite looking like your eccentric uncle who gets handsy after a few drinks. I am so much better than this guy. | |
Nick-named 'The Big Train' but as a lad rode the Short Wagon to school. Won 417 games. It took him 802 to do so. Pathetic. | |
True story: pummeled W. Pipp half to death with a shovel then stoically submitted his application for the open job at 1B. | |
Another German. You'll notice the dearth of Irishmen here in the upper echelons of greatness. We are racists-in-arms, ESPN. | |
American hero who never lived up to his talents or the money lavished on him, much like the generation which venerated him. | |
The one good thing about this list is that Cardinals fans may no longer mewlingly whine about how overlooked he is. | |
If you hate him, take pleasure in knowing every single day of his life removes him from the only thing he loves: relevance. | |
Demented racist whose style of base ball I adore. Nicknamed 'Georgia Peach' because peaches are apparently grown in sphincters. | |
'I miss you, Hammer. Unnnnnhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.' - Noon-time sounds from 'Bud' Selig's private office. | |
Cold and aloof, just like the daddies of the men who glorified him. Writing about the Kid ain't making Papa come home, son. | |
Has nicely polarized base ball's electorate, reducing their writing to screeds of 'neener neener.' Just fight it out, nancies. | |
Just remember this phrase: 'Greenies are ok because of nostalgia.' Repeat. | |
A fine pick if you believe never playing against anyone other than whites is a fair measure of greatness.* *-exception: me. | |
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