Roberto Alomar in a previously held ceremony (Web Photo)

Nine voters left Hank Aaron off their Hall of Fame ballot. Joe DiMaggio wasn’t even elected until his third try. So, Roberto Alomar you are in good company.        

Let’s look at the record.        

An All-Star for 12 consecutive years (1990-2001), he was a defensive wizard (10 Gold Gloves) who could hit (.301 lifetime), hit with power (206 home runs), and run (474 stolen bases). Add his prowess with fielding and throwing and Alomar ranks right up there with Ryne Sandberg and Joe Morgan, both already in Cooperstown, and ahead of both Nellie Fox and Bill Mazeroski, who made it mainly for their defense.      

Some writers remembered the spitting incident, when Alomar allegedly responded to a verbal insult from umpire John Hirschbeck, or his last two seasons, when the switch-hitting Puerto Rican suddenly lost his skills after the New York Mets traded a bundle to coax him from Cleveland.       

Alomar was hardly the first Hall of Fame candidate to implode. Brooks Robinson was a mere shadow of himself during three tortuous seasons at the end of his career. Willie Mays and Warren Spahn were outright embarrassments. So were Steve Carlton and Phil Niekro.       

But they’re in Cooperstown while Alomar isn’t. Apparently, the voters didn’t pay much attention to ESPN punster Chris Berman.      

To be sure, Alomar came excruciatingly close, with only a handful of ballots separating him from first-ballot enshrinement.          

Some writers refuse to vote for anyone on the first ballot. Some are still protesting the exclusion of Pete Rose, the banned-for-life career hits king. And others – especially the ones who voted for Eric Karros and Pat Hentgen – aren’t worth retaining as members of the Baseball Writers Association of America, the group that does the voting.        

Milo Hamilton, venerable radio voice of the Houston Astros, says with some merit that broadcasters should be voters because they see the game every day.      

“Who would you rather have voting – Vin Scully, Ernie Harwell, and Milo Hamilton, or some guys who take vacations in the middle of the season and see only half the games?”          

Hamilton also decries the fact that some BBWAA voters no longer cover the game, while others are too young to remember seeing Dale Murphy, Bert Blyleven, and Lee Smith – other greats who, like Alomar, were turned away at the door by the Hall of Fame.   

The biggest problem, from this perspective, is a voting structure that provides 10 spaces on each ballot but does not eliminate ballots that contain fewer than 10 times – as the MVP voting rules dictate.         

This is not to say that writers must pick 10 candidates for Cooperstown in every election but that they should list their Top 10 preferences. Without making that change, the odds of anyone reaching the required 75 per cent are astronomical.     

Writers also need to do their homework. How many voters knew that Dale Murphy was the only man to lead a decade in total bases and not be elected? Or that Murphy was second in home runs and RBI during the ‘80s, trailing Mike Schmidt and Eddie Murray, respectively? Or that Murphy was not only the youngest man to win back-to-back MVPs but one of two, with Roger Maris, not in Cooperstown? The other seven consecutive-MVP winners are already in the gallery.           

Speaking of that 75 per cent, how about rounding off the number? Bert Blyleven had 74.2 per cent of the vote – more than 74 per cent but not quite the required 75 per cent. So now the author of 60 shutouts has to wait another year?         

Every eligible 300-game winner is enshrined, along with many pitchers who won considerably less, but Blyleven (287) and Jim Kaat (283) are consistently turned away. How about Tommy John (288) who surely would have won 300 if he had not been the first victim of the elbow ligament transplant commonly called “Tommy John surgery”?

And what are the arguments against Alomar, spitting aside? Okay, so he only led his league in one department in a single season (138 runs scored for the 1999 Cleveland Indians). But he was so consistently good, topping .320 five times and topping 40 steals four times.     

There’s no doubt he was the best second baseman in the American League, if not the majors, throughout the decade of the ‘90s. Thanks largely to his play, Alomar participated in postseason play seven times. That should count with the voters too.      

Assured that he was a lock for enshrinement, Alomar waited anxiously by the phone for word of the Jan. 6 announcement. Informed that both he and Blyleven missed by an eyelash while Andre Dawson suddenly surged past the 75 per cent cutoff, Alomar admitted disappointment.        

But the process has disappointed many others too.       

Although he’s an odds-on favorite for next year, Alomar will have to spend another year hearing his name included in a Bob Feller anecdote about Cooperstown.     

During his heyday with the Cleveland Indians, Alomar pulled into the Winter Haven parking lot one spring training morning. With only one car ahead of him, Alomar figured he had plenty of time to get ready.    

But the other car wouldn’t move. It was Feller, the ancient goodwill ambassador, exercising his penchant for schmoozing. He was talking it up with the security guard. And talking. And talking.    

Finally, Alomar honked. The indignant Feller, who hates to be rushed, demanded to know who was behind him. The security guard looked and said, “Hey, that’s Roberto Alomar!”    

Feller, not about to budge for the team’s top star, said: “You tell him that when he gets into the Hall of Fame, he can honk at me!”   

It may take a year longer than expected, but Alomar’s time is coming.

Dan Schlossberg of Fair Lawn, NJ writes about baseball for LatinoSports.com. His 35th book, The 300 Club: Last of a Breed, will be published in March by Ascend.