PHILADELPHIA (2/2/12) - Former Temple University standout Marc Jackson will be one of five members that will be inducted into the Philadelphia Big 5 Hall of Fame on February 21. Jackson will become the 23rd men’s basketball player in TU history to be inducted into the Big 5 Hall of Fame.

Jackson, who was named the 1997 A10 Player of the Year, was a two-time all-A10 and all-Big 5 first team honoree (1995-96, 1996-97).  Also a two-time NABC first team all-District performer, he scored 1,059 career points and grabbed 567 rebounds in his three-year collegiate career, including 1,001 points (15.9 ppg.) in his two seasons (1995-96, ’96-97) at Temple.  The Owls center led the team in scoring and rebounding his final two seasons with his best season coming as a junior in 1996-97 when he averaged 16.1 points and 9.0 rebounds per game.  His Temple teams posted a 40-14 record and advanced to the NCAA Tournament both seasons.

Jackson decided to forego his senior season and was drafted in the second round of the 1997 NBA Draft by Golden State.  After playing overseas to start his professional career, he joined Golden State for the 2000-01 season where he was named to the NBA all-Rookie team.  In all, he played seven seasons in the NBA, compiling 3,238 points and 1,655 rebounds.  He now serves as a studio analyst for Comcast SportsNet in Philadelphia.

The Philadelphia Big 5 Hall of Fame Class of 2012 is comprised of Saint Joseph’s Melissa Coursey, Jackson, Penn’s Matt Maloney, La Salle’s Kelly Greenberg and Jenn Beisel of Villanova. The induction ceremony will begin 11:30 a.m. at The Palestra on February 21. For ticket information, please contact the Philadelphia Big 5 at 215-898-4747 or big5@philadelphiabig5.org.

PHILADELPHIA – La Salle women’s basketball standout Kelly Greenberg will be inducted into the Philadelphia Big 5 Hall of Fame on February 21 in a luncheon at the Palestra, it was announced today. Greenberg was a two-time All-Big 5 selection and helped the Explorers to three Big 5 Championships and NCAA Tournaments as a player from 1985-89.

She joins her brother Chip, a La Salle point guard from 1982-86, in the Big 5 Hall of Fame. The Greenbergs are one of three sibling combinations in the Big 5 Hall of Fame, joining Bill (Temple) and Bob Mlkvy (Penn) and Joe (Villanova) and Ellen Ryan (Saint Joseph’s).

Greenberg, currently the head women’s basketball coach at Boston University, set La Salle records for assists in a game (19), season (190) and career (512). She currently stands in second in all three categories.

The first Explorer to record a triple-double, Greenberg shot 51.6% from three-point range during her career which still stands on top of the La Salle record books. She was named to the All-MAAC second team as a senior in 1989 after captaining the team to a 28-3 record. During her four years at La Salle, Greenberg’s teams had a 95-24 record.

The Blue and Gold won the MAAC in 1986, 1988 and 1989 to qualify for the NCAA Tournament. As a senior, she helped the team defeat Connecticut in the first round before falling to Tennessee.

Greenberg was also a four-year starter for La Salle’s field hockey team.

Greenberg has coached at the collegiate level for 20 years, and has led Boston University to two WNIT appearances and 126 wins in seven seasons. During five years at Penn, Greenberg guided the Quakers to two Ivy League Championships and NCAA Tournament appearances.

During her scholastic career, Greenberg excelled at basketball, field hockey and softball at Archbishop Wood High School in Philadelphia. In 2010, she had her No. 32 jersey retired joining just two other female athletes – Debbie Black of the WNBA and Kelly’s sister, Kathy. Kelly is a member of the Archbishop Wood’s alumni hall of fame.

She will be joined in the induction class by Marc Jackson (Temple), Matt Maloney (Penn), Melissa Coursey (Saint Joseph’s), and Jenn Beisel (Villanova).

The luncheon begins at 11:30 AM. Tickets for the general public are $40 each.  Contact Steve Crider at the Big 5 office for tickets at steve@philadelphiabig5.org.

Prior to hearing Brutus’ rousing speech about the validity of Julius Caesar’s murder in the Roman Capitol, a plebeian suggests that Rome should “Give him [Brutus] a statue with his ancestors!” Those familiar with Shakespeare’s play know that this venerable request comes much too eagerly following the morally ambiguous murder of Caesar. Two acts later Marc Antony laments on the good intentions of Brutus, who lay dead after his own suicide.

Great intentions – poor decisions.

Good thing the commons avoided that awkward moment of returning to Rome with a massive reminder of Brutus’ misguided judgment awaiting them.

That awkward moment, however, has not escaped some famous athletes and institutions this past year. Usually a professional athlete’s consecration of his or her accolades comes in the form of a bust for the Hall of Fame. Such an honor only comes after the athlete’s career has concluded and sometimes, an athlete’s choices play a role (see Pete Rose and Mark McGwire).

Nowadays sports fans can find statues outside most arenas and on campuses all around the country, many for players and coaches not yet retired but indeed still very active.

Surely before this year the national consensus on Joe Paterno, former Penn State head football coach, was that he’d be immortalized as one of the most morally upstanding coaches in all of sports. Not only a coach, but a “humanitarian” as his statue outside Beaver Stadium states. For some, that has changed.

No matter which side one’s opinion may fall, it is hard to dispute that Paterno’s legacy has been altered by the Jerry Sandusky sex abuse allegations. That statue, once thought to be for a man who would retire with the utmost respect of all sports fans, now serves as a symbol of hypocrisy to others.

© 2011 Tornoe Ink – Rob Tornoe. All Rights Reserved. http://robtornoe.com/2011/11/paterno-statue/

The issue is not to question or forget the many honorable acts a coach like Joe Paterno has done for many student-athletes, but to question the premature consecration of those who can still reveal flaws. Damaging, consequential flaws. Or maybe not even flaws, but rather just make a mistake. A mistake that seems to outweigh all other great decisions.

Much like Brutus’ case in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, statues can serve as a means to express loyalty while a person is still serving. It’s always unsettling when a deserving athlete has to be posthumously inducted into a Hall of Fame (see Ron Santo and Dennis Johnson). And, just as in Brutus’ case, how awkward would it be to erect a god-like statue when that loyalty is not reciprocated.

Look no further than St. Louis. After winning his second World Series title with the Cardinals this past season, Albert Pujols entered free-agency as the most coveted player in years. Nine time all-star; three time NL MVP; a legitimate threat to break the all-time homerun record; a guaranteed first ballot hall of famer. All for a player barely in his thirties. And all for a player who has done it in one uniform.

An anonymous donor from the St. Louis community decided it would be best to show St. Louis’ loyalty to Pujols by paying for a 10-foot bronze statue to sit outside Pujols’ restaurant. Ironically, the statue was unveiled after the 2011 season.

A security guard protects the Albert Pujols statue outside the Pujols 5 restaurant in St. Louis. (Photo: Robert Cohen/St. Louis Post-Dispatch)

Pujols ultimately signed with the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim leaving some fans in St. Louis feeling betrayed. As if the statue won’t be a hurtful reminder of what a record-breaking career could have been in a St. Louis Cardinals uniform, just think of this Cardinal fans: What hat will Pujols decide to don upon his bust’s consecration into the Hall of Fame? Was this a mistake on Pujols’ part? Should his loyalty to the Cardinals have outweighed his business decision?

Regardless, Pujols’ decision makes it all the more awkward for Cardinal fans to revel at a 10-foot bronze mammoth that they some no longer, well, feel loyalty towards anymore.

Paterno and Pujols certainly aren’t hardened criminals or oppressive dictators who deserve their statues to be torn from its supports like Saddam Hussein’s in Iraq. It’s not that their flaws or mistakes (if you even consider them such) should result in some kind of sacrilege of what their statues should represent from their careers.

In fact, try to find two sports figures more philanthropic than these two. It’d be difficult to do. Mistakes? I think we all know Paterno would do things differently. Flawed? Some might now think so about Pujols. But both also certainly have a litany of great choices and benevolence beyond what any would expect.

No, the issue lies with why society feels the need to prematurely idolize sports figures. We know great players and coaches will eventually receive their due respect in some form (retired jersey, Hall of Fame bust), but to erect a statue of a man not yet completed with his career seems selfish and misguided.

Man is not flawless; for that reason, a statue should try to sanctify the closest form of ethics and performance in mankind. Much like religions and nations do for their pioneers and vanguards.

If St. Louis values unbridled loyalty, perhaps retiring Pujols’ jersey number or putting his name in the stands would have sufficed after his retirement from baseball.

Perhaps if Penn State had waited to honor their beloved coach upon his retirement, they would have been content with the library bearing Paterno’s name and maybe added it inside the stadium as well.

A statue after all is an artist’s rendition of a person in his or her absolute perfection, whether it be as a coach, player, president, or activist. The only problem is that man is not perfect and may simply give fodder to those who wish to only focus on flaws rather than endearing qualities.

Ultimately, it would be wise to wait and choose more carefully. Allow each and every man to complete his athletic journey and then decide if he is worthy of such a sacred, prestigious sculpture.

Where am I? Who am I? How did I come to be here? What is this thing called the Pine? How did I come to the Pine? Why was I not consulted? And if I am compelled to take part in this, where is the man in charge? I want to see him?

Actually, I’ll settle for the answer to the question, who am I? But remember to try this without research. If the answer doesn’t come to you immediately, be sure to share your thought process, as you may assist another in his or her quest to help me answer this “existential” question.

By Chas

I was drafted by a west coast team, but most people don’t know me for that. I was supposed to be the successor to a guy who failed at replacing a legend, a man whom some wonder why he didn’t receive more Hall of Fame support.

I played only parts of three seasons out west before being traded to an eastern team, in a deal for a player who could be described as a professional hitter (a guy who won four batting titles), although he was in the twilight of his career.

I played 5+ years there for a team on the rise. We went from 64 wins in my first full year to a postseason berth in my last. While there, I set a major league record (that since has been broken) for most assists in a season at a position not known for them.

I left as a free agent, though, to sign with another eastern team. We turned our fortunes around in my first year there, which was the beginning of a long run of sustained success. In fact, we made the playoffs in all of my three seasons there, but lost in the World Series twice. We even beat my previous team in a playoff series once, and I played a pivotal role on a series-deciding play.

My postseason numbers were solid, if not spectacular: a .785 OPS in 92 AB over 28 games.

I moved on from there, heading west again, and played one final year for a fourth team where I served as the backup to another player whose Hall of Fame candidacy has become a lightning-rod for controversy.

I didn’t reach 1000 hits or 100 homers over my 12 years in the majors, but I held my own. Even though I played the requisite 10 seasons, my name never appeared on the Hall of Fame ballot.

Who Am I?

****Remember, try this without research. Release your inner James Joyce and show us your stream of consciousness as you decipher the answer. Add to that the teachings of Myagi: patience. If you don’t get the answer right away, give your brain a chance to work if for no other reason than to stay in the discussion. You may not have THE answer, but you might prompt another reader by asking the right question.

By Chas

I was one of the great ones. That’s right, I have a plaque in Cooperstown.

I’m one of two Hall of Famers who was born in Baltimore. The other guy is a way bigger deal. You know, an icon…one of those guys with multiple nicknames, a larger than life figure who played most of his career in a stadium they supposedly built for him.

I was a pretty special player too. So much so I was signed right out of high school and made my major league debut at the age of 18. The next year I was a full-time starter, and the following season I finished second in MVP voting.

As it turns out, I never won an MVP,but I finished in the top 10 in the voting nine times, including three top 3 finishes. Every time I finished in the top three, I was beaten out by Yankees. Even when I finished third, the top two vote-getters were those damn pinstripers.

I did earn my share of accolades, though. What do you think about 10 Gold Gloves and 15 All-Star selections? Not too bad, huh? Of course, the ultimate honor was a first-ballot Hall of Fame induction. There aren’t that many people who can say that.

I didn’t make very many postseason appearances, however. You can probably guess why. I played my entire career for one team, and we happened to be in the same league as the Yankees. I did finally make it, though, kind of late in my career. We had a phenomenal season, led by a starting pitcher who accomplished something that hadn’t been done in over 30 years, and hasn’t been matched since.

In the World Series, our ace was twice out-pitched by their ace, a guy who had a pretty historic season himself and who would enter the Hall of Fame the year after me. But, a different pitcher for our team came back on two days rest to out-duel said Hall of Famer in a game-seven matchup that earned him the Series MVP. It was his third complete game victory in the Series, a truly historic performance.

If not for that player, I had an MVP-worthy performance (11-for-29, 6 runs, 2 HR, 8 RBI) myself. But, as usual, I was outshined.

I came pretty close to being the first player to ever collect over 3000 hits and 400 home runs solely in the American League, but Carl Yastrzemski later earned that distinction.

I wasn’t outshined on the day I got into Cooperstown, though. Well, I was inducted alongside another legendary player, but it was his 11th year on the ballot. Like I said, I was voted in my first year on the ballot. It doesn’t get any better than that.

Who Am I?

By Chas

****Remember, try this without research. Release your inner James Joyce and show us your stream of consciousness as you decipher the answer. Add to that the teachings of Myagi: patience. If you don’t get the answer right away, give your brain a chance to work if for no other reason than to stay in the discussion. You may not have THE answer, but you might prompt another reader by asking the right question.

I played on some pretty bad teams in my time. Not only bad during my time with them, but a pair of them are historically bad, neither winning a single World Series game in their close to 100 years of collective existence.

It wasn’t until my 10th year in the bigs that I was a member of my first team with a winning record. The second half of my career things were a little better, but in 23 years in the majors, I ended up playing on 16 losing teams, including the first season ever for the first team north of the border.

North of the border is where I earned one of my two nicknames, both of which are inspired by the color of my hair. They also retired my number there, even though I only played with them for three years.

Back to that 10th year, though. We were pretty good, and although we only finished a few games above .500 the following year, we miracuously made it the World Series. I batted .423 with a homer and 6 RBI in that seven-game series, but we lost to a team that is considered one of the modern dynasties, smack dab in the middle of their reign.

As it turns out, that was my one and only trip to the postseason in a 23-year career that produced over 1000 runs, almost 1500 RBI and pretty darn close to 3000 hits. In fact, I’m the only player in history with at least 500 hits for four different teams, and one of only three players to hit a homer before the age of 20 and after the age of 40. I didn’t make the Hall of Fame, but I stuck around on the ballot for seven years, peaking at 7.9% of the vote in my fourth year.

Late in my career, I returned to the team I played in my only postseason with. That team was having a bit of a resurgence, but my days were coming to an end. After logging less than 100 at bats in two consecutive seasons, I called it quits, only to see that team take it all the following year. Oh well…at least my career wasn’t as heartbreaking as the storied history of the team they beat.

Who Am I?

By Paul Casey Gotham

****Remember, try this without research. Release your inner James Joyce and show us your stream of consciousness as you decipher the answer. Add to that the teachings of Myagi: patience. If you don’t get the answer right away, give your brain a chance to work if for no other reason than to stay in the discussion. You may not have THE answer, but you might prompt another reader by asking the right question.

How many guys in N.B.A. history can you name from McNeese State University? I can tell you. It’s a short list. None of the others are in the Hall of Fame. I am. Three of the guys played a total of sixty-nine games between them. Another alum played 133 contests. When I finished at McNeese, I was 11th all-time in NCAA scoring. Still, I wasn’t taken until the 18th pick of the draft. I played over 1,000 games and all for one team. My whole professional career has been with one organization. We have three titles in my time. I averaged double-digit points for the last 13 years of my playing career. I had four and a half assists to two turnovers per game for my time. I earned my keep on the other end of the floor garnering first-team All-Defensive on four occasions. I was second team another year. I was second team All-NBA once and third team twice and was a finals MVP for one of our titles. I guess that was because we established our own rules.

Who am I?

A while back, I was planning on producing a list of the top 25 players who are not in the Hall of Fame, in my opinion. I still haven’t gotten around to that, but instead I decided to pick one player for each franchise who, to me, is their greatest non-Hall of Famer.

Of course, I limited this to players who are eligible for election, which means no Pete Rose, Joe Jackson or Eddie Cicotte. It also means this is limited to players who retired in 2005 or earlier.

I considered each player for the team whose hat would most likely be depicted on his plaque, if he were elected to the Hall of Fame. In most cases, this is the team he played the most years or the most games with, but in other cases, it has more to do with impact.

Let me make one thing clear. Back when I was looking at each team’s greatest living retired player, I was only concerned with the portion of their career that they played for the team in question. In this exercise, since I’m interested in their Hall of Fame credentials, I looked at each player’s entire career, but considered him only for the one team I felt he was most associated with.

There are a couple teams who aren’t represented here, basically because there wasn’t a single player who fit the criteria. If you can name someone eligible for the Hall of Fame who played more years or more games—or produced more WAR—with the Tampa Bay Rays or Arizona Diamondbacks*, I’d love to know. But, remember…in addition to the team-specific criterion, to be eligible for the Hall of Fame, a player has to have played 10 seasons and retired before 2006.

*OK, I will admit I was able to identify one Diamondback who fits the criteria, but he falls way short of the type of player I’m looking to honor here. So, this gives me an opportunity to use him as kind of a makeshift Who Am I? subject. Anyone care to venture a guess as to who I’m talking about? Here’s a couple hints: he was roughly a .500 pitcher over his 10+ years in the majors, was worth less than one WAR per season, but had some pretty good postseason numbers, including one ALCS and one NLCS win.

There are also some potentially Hall of Fame worthy players not mentioned here as well, because they played in the 19th century for teams that no longer exist, and I’m only covering the 30 existing franchises here.

Atlanta/Milwaukee/Boston Braves – Joe Torre is my selection here, but I also considered Darrell Evans and Dale Murphy.

Baltimore Orioles/St. Louis Browns – It’s a St. Louis Brown, Urban Shocker, who gets the nod here, over fellow Brown Vern Stephens and Mount Vernon, New York’s Ken Singleton.

Boston Red Sox – I bet Dwight Evans and Luis Tiant would be the more popular picks, but I think Reggie Smith is quite under-rated and he’s the man who gets my vote.

Chicago Cubs – I’m going with Ron Santo, but it was a tougher decision than one would realize, taking him over turn of the century shortstop Bill Dahlen. Also considered were 19th century standout George Gore, and another one of history’s many unheralded Cubs, Rick Reuschel.

Chicago White Sox – There’s some stiff competition on the south side of Chicago as well. Minnie Minoso, though, is my man, with Billy Pierce and Robin Ventura the runners-up.

Cincinnati Reds – Barry Larkin is an easy call, but assuming he gets elected next year—as I hope he will—it’s going to be tough deciding between Vada Pinson, Heinie Groh, George Foster and 19th century pitcher Tony Mullane to take his place. Dave Concepcion, you say? I don’t think so.

Cleveland Indians – Not a lot of tremendous choices here, but I’m going with Albert Belle, over Rocky Colavito and Wes Ferrell.

Colorado Rockies – Larry Walker may just be worthy of being Colorado’s first Hall of Fame inductee, in my opinion.

Detroit Tigers – This was definitely one of the toughest decisions of this exercise, but I’ll take Alan Trammell by a nose over Lou Whitaker.

Florida Marlins – Charles Johnson is far from Hall of Fame worthy, but he won four Gold Gloves—as a catcher—and did appear on the ballot this year, although he received zero votes. So, to me, he’s good enough to be considered for this distinction.

Houston Astros/Colt .45′s – Well, this one might be just as easy as my Rockies pick. Jeff Bagwell, without a doubt. Hopefully, in the not-too-distant future, I’ll be faced with the decision of who to replace him with. If Craig Biggio hasn’t yet been passed over at that point, then we’ll likely be looking at Jimmy Wynn, Cesar Cedeno or Jose Cruz.

Kansas City Royals – I really wanted to say Dan Quisenberry, because I truly believe the very best relievers are under-appreciated by modern statistical analysis. But, that’s a discussion for another day, and the fact of the matter is Quiz’s career started late and faded early. So, I’m going with Bret Saberhagen, over Quisenberry and Kevin Appier.

Los Angeles/Anaheim/California Angels – Bobby Grich is the obvious choice, although Chuck Finley and Frank Tanana deserve a mention.

Los Angeles/Brooklyn Dodgers – There are quite a few good candidates, including Willie Davis, Tommy John (who I’m not really sure whether to consider as a Dodger, Yankee, or White Sox), Orel Hershiser, Ron Cey, Gil Hodges, and Steve Garvey, but Kevin Brown—who played more years in Texas, but played his best for the Dodgers—is the closest to Hall of Fame caliber, as far as I’m concerned.

Milwaukee Brewers – Not a lot to choose from here. Their Hall of Fame worthy players have already been so honored. I’ll take Cecil Cooper, with an honorable mention to Don Money.

Minnesota Twins/Washington Senators – I think his Hall of Fame case is over-rated by many, but my choice here is Tony Oliva over Jim Kaat.

New York Mets – Most people probably think of David Cone as a Yankee, but he pitched almost 300 more innings for the Mets. I’m not certain that means he would go into the Hall as a Met, but I’m taking him over Jerry Koosman.

New York Yankees – There are a lot of Yankee greats in the Hall of Fame, and there are also a number of borderline candidates who aren’t, so this was a tough choice. But, to me, Thurman Munson is the best, with Graig Nettles and Willie Randolph not far behind. Don Mattingly? Back injury or not, he just didn’t sustain it long enough. Pretty much the same goes for Ron Guidry.

Oakland/Kansas City/Philadelphia Athletics – As is usually the case with these types of exercises, I’m not passing judgment with regard to confirmed, alleged and suspected steroids users, so Mark McGwire gets the nod, with Sal Bando the runner-up.

Philadelphia Phillies -Gotta go with Dick Allen, although Sherry Magee deserves some recognition as well.

Pittsburgh Pirates – Dave Parker is really the only choice.

St. Louis Cardinals – I was torn on this one, so I informally polled the Cardinals bloggers I follow on Twitter, but their varied responses only confirmed how difficult a decision this is. Pitchers Hit Eighth was adamant in their support of Ken Boyer, and Ted Simmons also received a couple mentions, but I still find myself in the corner of Keith Hernandez.

San Diego Padres – There are only a few players who qualify for this distinction. Terry Kennedy is one. He appeared on the Hall of Fame ballot in 1997 and received one vote. But—to me—Andy Benes, while far from a Hall of Famer, is better. Yet, for some reason, his name never made it on the ballot, which is kind of hard to believe.

San Francisco/New York Giants – I’ll take Will Clark, over Bobby Bonds.

Seattle Mariners – Edgar Martinez. Is there anybody else?

Texas Rangers/Washington Senators – Man, I hate what a dilemma these steroid questions have created. Imagine having to actually be a Hall of Fame voter? To remain consistent, I’ll go with Rafael Palmeiro, over Buddy Bell.

Toronto Blue Jays – This is a tough call, but I’m going to take Dave Stieb over John Olerud and Fred McGriff.

Washington Nationals/Montreal Expos – Tim Raines, of course.

I’ll be the first to admit that many of these are debatable, and, of course, that’s what made this exercise so fun. If you have any thoughts on any of these—particularly if there are any players I overlooked—I’d love to hear them.

By Paul Casey Gotham

****Remember, try this without research. Release your inner James Joyce and show us your stream of consciousness as you decipher the answer.

Do you know of any guys taken in the second round of the N.B.A. draft that have gone on to the Hall-of-Fame? I did. Yeah, Springfield by way of the Bronx through Arizona Western Community College to UTEP and a few other stops after that. Truth be told, I was taken in a pretty good  draft. At least four guys taken before me also have spots in Springfield. I averaged 16 points a game my first season and 28 the year after that. But in my third season I led the league in points and assists per game. I don’t think anybody else has ever accomplished that feat. That was my first of three first-team All-NBA seasons. I earned second-team honors twice in my 13-year career. I almost played for Buffalo, but was injured prior to the season and never got on the floor for the Braves. After playing for losing teams and averaging 20 points or more five of my first seven seasons, I finally won a championship. But I became more of a playmaker. I went from averaging 16 field goal attempts one year to eight the next year. Two years later, we won the title. I averaged 35 minutes per game and 13.8 points.  Plenty of other guys could score on that team. We kept Moses from parting the waters.

Who am I?

I read from a pretty reputable source recently that, historically, there are about 35 players active at any given time who go on to become Hall of Famers. So, I thought it would be a fun discussion to try and predict who the current 35 or so would be.

For the purposes of this exercise, active is defined as any player who played in 2010, so while we know that a couple of the guys I listed below have already decided to retire, they still fall into the pool of candidates.

Here are 30 that I came up with for an initial list. By no means am I trying to say these are the “no-brainers.” In fact, at least a few of them are based on the prediction that they’ll continue to produce in a way that will result in a Hall of Fame career. Obviously, in order to come up with such a list, there have to be some very young guys on it.

I also thought it would be useful to list the players by position. You’ll probably notice that there are generally 2-4 for each position, except starting pitcher, so this initial list has some balance, as I think it should.

C Ivan Rodriguez
C Joe Mauer
1B Albert Pujols
1B Ryan Howard
1B Miguel Cabrera
1B Joey Votto
1B Prince Fielder
1B Adrian Gonzalez
2B Chase Utley
2B Robinson Cano
SS Derek Jeter
SS Hanley Ramirez
SS Troy Tulowitzki
SS Omar Vizquel
3B Alex Rodriguez
3B Chipper Jones
3B David Wright
3B Evan Longoria
3B Ryan Zimmerman
LF Manny Ramirez
LF Carl Crawford
LF Ryan Braun
CF Ken Griffey Jr.
CF Jim Edmonds
RF Ichiro Suzuki
RF Vladimir Guerrero
RF Jason Heyward
DH Jim Thome
DH David Ortiz
SP Roy Halladay
SP Johan Santana
SP CC Sabathia
SP Tim Lincecum
SP Felix Hernandez
SP Adam Wainwright
SP Justin Verlander
RP Mariano Rivera
RP Trevor Hoffman
RP Billy Wagner

A couple other things worth noting:

1. For the most part, these are predictions about who will make the Hall of Fame, rather than players I think are or will be deserving.

2. The possible exception to the above note is the PED issue, which is the only factor that might prevent a few of these guys from getting in. However, I really do think those above with that particular cloud hanging over their heads will eventually be inducted.

Who’s going to be the first to share your opinion? Who am I missing? Who am I crazy for including on this list? I know there are quite a few other guys who belong in the discussion, but whom I left off, either based on the fact that I think they’ll tail off, or because I’m simply less certain about them than others.