First off, the fun: seeing Dan Bern perform a solo benefit concert in the tiny theater at the Hall was a treat. All Bern performed were his baseball songs, including "Merkle" (about Fred Merkle's boner in the 1908 World Series), "Ballpark" (breaking into Wrigley Field), "They Don't Got Baseball" (re Europe, "They got Bridget Bardot/We got Bernie Carbo", etc.), a bitter new song about the Giants' blowing a five run lead with nine outs to go in the World Series last year, and "Gambling With My Love", a song about writing a play about Pete Rose and Bart Giamatti:
I say girl, do you understand how with four thousand hits
A man could still feel emptiness?
And I have Pete say "Commissioner, what've you got in your hand?"
And he says, "Can't you guess?"
Pete says "If I was a betting man
I'd say you were trying to bluff me to my face."
Commissioner says, "Too bad you ain't as good playing the odds
As you are playing second base."
(For your best source of Bern lyrics: click here.)
What's more, the Inn at Cooperstown was a great place to stay, and the town is still gorgeous, even with five feet of snow over the past two weeks.
But then there was the Hall itself, and, frankly, it was disappointing. Yes, seeing all the artifacts and knowing all the history they're attached to is cool, but if you're coming in without that background. Otherwise, the place is just too dry -- the Hall itself, with the plaques of inducted players, felt more like mausoleum than living testament to the game of baseball. The museum's exhibits were too dry, too wordy -- all "look at this cool thing behind the glass and read about it", and not nearly enough "watch this cool film footage".
Baseball is a visual, active sport. Seeing a ball or a bat behind glass doesn't cut it, won't make the sport come alive for a six-year-old kid or a baseball-apathetic adult.
The Hall needs that. It needs rooms showing highlights and bloopers, along with video footage everywhere it's possible to put it showing the greatness of a Robinson, a Mays, a Killebrew or a McGwire. The exhibits need to be more tangible -- let the kids hold a replica of Babe Ruth's bat to feel how heavy it is. Let them stand 60' 6" away from home plate atop a mound and try to throw a strike.
And don't be afraid to get into the more colorful side of the game a little -- whether it's Babe Ruth's being sidelined from action thanks to raging venereal disease, Gaylord Perry's skills with Vaseline or George Brett's hemorrhoids, this too is part of baseball's legacy.
Otherwise, the Hall is just too damn sterile, which is a shame, because baseball's still America's great original contribution to the world of sports. It can't be content being the only Baseball Hall of Fame; it needs to be the best one there can be.
That said, any place that still has Juan Samuel's cleats on display can't be that bad.
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