Empty ballot

Silly me, but I call it a "no brainer" when given the choice between rehabbing an injury in either the beautiful Hawaii or less-than-tropical Chicago. Nothing against Chi-town, but I'm ready to get away from this freezing weather, grab my swimming trunks and head for the Aloha State right now just talking about it. But apparently, not everyone is of the same mindset.

It turns out, after losing the Super Bowl, Chicago Bears linebacker Brian Urlacher has a boo boo on his toe, and will miss the Pro Bowl. I'm not bringing this up because it's a big news flash in fact; it's pretty much a non-story. No one thinks any more or any less of Urlacher because he's staying at home and New York Giants linebacker Antonio Pierce is taking his place in Hawaii, and likewise, 10 minutes from now no one will remember that Pierce only made it because someone else skipped out.

If we're being totally honest here, the Pro Bowl itself is utterly irrelevant. It's the complete opposite of the Super Bowl, which is easily the most-watched sporting event of the year. The players hate it. Coaches hate it. And no one watches it. If the league announced tomorrow that there would be no more Pro Bowls, no one would be outraged. The players would plan their offseason vacations a week earlier and fans would continue to focus on basketball, hockey and baseball's looming spring training.

So if that's clearly the case, let me pose this question why are Pro Bowls one of the first criteria brought up when discussing potential Hall of Famers? No one can name the winning quarterback or most valuable player in any of the last five Pro Bowls, but it's one of the "end all, be all" reasons to induct or exclude someone from Canton.

From time to time I listen to "The John Riggins Show" on my ride home from work. The other day, he was sharing his two cents on Pro Bowls and the Hall of Fame. One of the things that stood out was how he described the voting process players use when determining their Pro Bowl selections. Basically, everyone gets together and says "okay, who should we vote for?" Riggins said it's essentially a popularity contest and the players put together almost no time or effort when making their picks. Now, let me ask again, this is one of the most-important criteria when determining who should be enshrined in the Hall of Fame? How ridiculous is that?

That's not my only problem with the voting process though. My biggest complaint is that the voters have no accountability for their choices. Forty writers get together in a secret room for one morning and make their decisions. Once they leave the room the only thing we learn is who made the cut and who didn't. Everything else is "secret." My question is simple why shouldn't voters be required to say who they voted for and who they passed on? If the writer from Sports Illustrated decides to vote for wide receiver Michael Irvin, but not fellow wide out Art Monk, then he should be forced to stand behind his decision and be ready to explain his decision.

Likewise, fans have a right to know how close their favorite players came to the Hall of Fame. Baseball fans know that former slugger Mark McGwire only received 23.5 percent of the votes this year, so it shouldn't be too much to ask to know how close former commissioner Paul Tagliabue came to making the cut. And if we're being completely honest, guys like John McClain of the Houston Chronicle aren't helping matters. McClain is one of the voters, and here's a message he posted to his blog on the newspaper's website:

Memo to irate Art Monk fans:
Has it occurred to you that 30 of the 40 voters could have voted for Monk, and yet you continue to fire off nasty e-mails to everyone? Has it occurred to you that all those nasty e-mails insulting the intelligence of the committee just might make some of the pro-Monk crowd switch their votes? I'm not saying it will, but have you thought that you might actually be doing Monk damage? Didn't think so.

Doesn't that sound like McClain is suggesting vindictive voters can keep out deserving players over something as trivial as that player's fanbase? I mean, if that's the case then no Philadelphia Eagle should ever be enshrined.

People who aren't familiar with the entire Art Monk saga have to understand that his Hall of Fame candidacy is the sports world's version of the Pro Life/Pro Choice debate. Everyone has an opinion and they feel very, very strongly about it.

Monk fans see Irvin elected and their guy passed over and wonder how a guy with lesser statistics and off-the-field issues can make it before the man who retired as the NFL's leader in career receptions. They're not mad that Irvin got in; just that he did so before Monk. It says that the Hall of Fame voters would rather honor a self-promoting and controversial diva over a blue-color worker who did his job without ever bitching, moaning or patting himself on the back. If anything, Monk is seemingly being penalized for being a quiet professional and not being overly eager to talk when the media held up a microphone in front of him.

And maybe Monk fans have a point, I mean, aren't these the same writers who crucify Randy Moss for celebrating a touchdown by pretending to moon fans or Terrell Owens for well, everything? When given the chance to put their proverbial money where their mouth is, the writers opted to recognize flash over substance. That's not exactly the way to get Chad Johnson and friends to shy away from clowning in the endzone on Sundays. But I digress.

So if those 40 writers are worthy of choosing which players should receive football's highest honor, the least they can do is stand next to their decisions and be accountable when someone walks up to them with a microphone. Until then, passionate fans will continue to look down upon voters for the same reason they do so to Monk.

Brian Murphy is the 2005 Defense Department's sportswriter of the year. And he still doesn't know what the hell he's talking about. Contact him at murf@the5holes.com.