Unlike every single other video game fan on the Internet, I don't have much ire for sports. In fact, I quite like many of them. I am, though, very far removed from a sports nut; I consider watching a common televised sporting event alone from start to finish tantamount to watching my bread grow in terms of productivity and stimulation. I can't help but nod my head with understanding whenever I read some irreverent blogger dissing sports. Granted, things improve once you throw some buddies and some live action into the mix, but under regular circumstances, if I have just worked a long, hard shift on a half hour of sleep and I have a choice between getting some beauty sleep and watching my favorite team in that sport struggle for a low-ranking playoff spot for three hours, I'm passing the hell out.
Such game fans tend to reserve special lamentations for baseball, mostly because of how damn slow and boring the game is. Again, I happen to have some sympathy for this viewpoint. No, this is not because I was picked on by every jock in the place during my high school days. This is because baseball's a pretty friggin' slow game if you think about it. I wouldn't say it's any slower than football or soccer, though, and many who knock the American pastime claim the umbrella of fandom beneath one of those two.
Baseball happens to be my favorite sport, though, and this is mainly for two reasons: the history and all that statty-fatty goodness found therein (experts agree - no sport is so dominated by stats than baseball). In baseball video games, especially of the classic variety, statistics are supreme, or at least as supreme as they could get. These days, scouting in has gotten more sophisticated with the technology; there's just no way you could express "Barry Bonds hits inside fastballs especially well but doesn't hustle for shit" with what you had back in the day like you can now, so stats aren't quite as weighty today.
Legends of the Diamond is basically RBI baseball with a couple gimmicks, one of them being its historical bent. Another one is that instead of having a full MLB roster, with 25 players per lineup on some 26 teams, there are only like four teams and you only get to pick one of them. But hey, you can pick what players are on that team. At least that sounds good, right?
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Yeah, that's my reaction, too. And I'm pretty gay for this sort of thing, I can only imagine what somebody more indifferent to the topic would think about it. What if you got to chose from the all-time greats of the game at their peak? What? You're pressing the Back button on your browser now?
In all seriousness, I'm here to rate the amount of legendary found in the players you can select in this game. Just so we know, the word 'legendary' encompasses the best of the best. Allow me to explain. (Or just get on with it)
The Baseball Hall of Fame is still the benchmark of all hall of fames anywhere. People might not care quite as much about baseball as they do other sports, but when it comes time for hall of fame discussions, Cooperstown dominates Springfield, Canton, Toronto and St. Louis combined. It's still the standard. Everybody within the baseball playing world and outside the game playing world knows it.
Well if I ran the Baseball Hall, I would divide it into five levels. One for each level of greatness. As one proceeds upward, everything gets better. The plaques are nicer, displays are more ornate and have more room per capita as one proceeds upward, and all that other good stuff.
Level 1 - The Veterans Members
Recent Examples: Bill Mazerowzki, Phil Rizzuto
Anybody who didn't make it in
after 15 tries with the Writers' Association who then gets 75% from the
Veteran's Committee. Standards tend to be
pretty lax here and many people already separate them from the other HOFers.
Might as well make it official. Oh, and players whose time passed before the
advent of the Hall in the mid 1930s would of course be reassigned.
Level 2 - Barely in there/Borderline
Recent Examples: Gary Carter, Goose Gossage, Jeff Bagwell, Mike Mussina, Jeff Kent, Jim Thome,
Mark McGwire
These are players for whom serious convincing would be required,
but just enough convincing among the right people happened. They're not exactly what you'd think of if you thought "Hall of Fame," but
it's not hard to wrap your mind around the thought these guys are among the top like 1.3 percent to play in the bigs (which is roughly about the percentage of MLB players who play make it in).
If you're ever bickering about somebody making it in who doesn't deserve it
(Tony Perez, Don Sutton), or bickering about people who should've made it,
but haven't (Jim Rice, Bert Byleven, Andre Dawson), this hierarchy should
quell this unease.
Level 3 - No-Doubt-Abouters
Recent Examples: Tom Glavine, Ryne Sandberg, Pedro Martinez, Mike Piazza, Frank Thomas, Trevor Hoffman,
Roger Clemens
As implied by the title of the level, there is little doubt these guys are Hall of Famers. Some would argue the true Hall begins here.
Level 4 - Heroes
Recent Examples: Greg Maddux, Randy Johnson, Barry Bonds, Tony Gwynn, Cal Ripken Jr.,
Steve Carlton, Nolan Ryan, Ken Griffey Jr.
Okay, now we're getting close.
Even if you didn't root for their teams, you probably had their poster in
your room. These are guys usually thrown in during talks of 'best of'
at their position, but they're not usually in the talks at the end.
These are the guys you just have to see, they single-handedly double
attendance when they're in the lineup.
Level 5 - Legends
Recent Examples: None, although would've been Bonds if the cloud of 'roids didn't take him down a peg
(yes, McGwire and Clemens are both taken down a level as well). The most recent
example might be Mike Schmidt.
Obviously, the absolute best. These are the guys every self-respecting sports fan will know.
They are the players we'll be talking about for years to come (that's why they're legends), and for the right reasons (generally). Only the best 30-40 players ever should qualify, and your selections in Legends of the Diamond should come entirely from
players good enough to be here.
And yes, this is essentially a knockoff of Bill Simmons' plan, but more refined.