Tony Kubek Wins '09 Frick Award

Bring on the whaling and mourning. Tom Cheek has been passed over once again for the Ford C. Frick Award. And while the disappointment of knowing that he'll still have to compete again next year with the likes of Joe Nuxhall resonates, at least the 2009 winner has some connection to the Blue Jays. Tony Kubek worked Blue Jays telecasts from the team's inception in 1977.

However, it's a bit bothersome to learn that the newest addition to the Baseball Hall of Fame hasn't even watched a baseball game since 1994 (thanks: S-Dawg).

As for Cheek, I'll stand by exactly what I said last year when he lost to Dave Niehaus.

I'm not going to disagree with a single thing that anyone says in praise of Tom Cheek or try to discredit a single memory of listening to the great man call a game. In fact, I can vividly remember listening to Blue Jays games on the way home from baseball practice when I was eight or nine years old and waiting in the driveway with the radio on until the third out, then running inside and up to my room in time to hear the beginning of the next half inning.

That was a part of my growing up, and as cheeseball du fromage as it is to mention, Tom Cheek played a massive role in that for me, and for many others. I agree that it's no small feat to have an impact like that over tens of thousands of people.

However, to honour such a contribution with an award seems like the least suitable idea since the return of American Gladiators. Okay, I'm exaggerating, but I've never really understood the fascination with lifetime achievement awards, stars on the walk of fame or entrances into the hall of fame.

As much as baseball is steeped in tradition and history, I am much more inclined to be interested in statistical records or personal moments than I am in a committee that goes about arbitrarily selecting great performances years after those performances have ended.

I'm certainly not suggesting that I'd boo Tom Cheek eventually winning the Frick Award, but I'm also not going to get all bent out of shape over him not winning the award either. Life altering actions go unrecognized every day, and there's a quiet honour in not being recognized on a grand scale that lessens the nobility of receiving everyone's admiration.

For a man who fostered my relationship with baseball (sadly, likely the most rewarding relationship of my life), I believe it is more honouring and intimate to be remembered passionately by those affected by his work than it would be to force admiration and recognition on a wider selection of people.