Alright, alright, it's that time of year again. The world of baseball fandom waits with bated breath while the BBWAA works towards their annual task of revealing to the public which journalists we should hate the most. That's how the Hall of Fame voting works, right? The various baseball writers across the country decide which of history's great players were plaque-on-the-wall great, and which were only legends in your own mind, and hardly anyone is happy with the final result.
The usual complaints, of course, can be trotted out like the deviled eggs plate on the Thanksgiving hors d'oeuvres table, because this is how we whet our appetites for the main course of ultra-rage later.