Note: This story has been updated.

Let’s clear up this nagging bit of Padres-related Hall of Fame business: Trevor Hoffman will be enshrined in Cooperstown.

The door failed to open Wednesday. It might not open in 2017. But it will.

In his first year, Hoffman was named on a surprisingly high 67.3 percent of the 75 percent of ballots needed.


Hoffman, though, finds himself caught in a logjam created by voting rules that cause baseball writers to prioritize narrowing eligibility windows for older players and rush consideration for others hunkered under the cloud of performance-enhancing drugs.

When writers are limited to just 10 picks, the logjam becomes challenging to navigate.

Trevor Hoffman’s Hall of Fame bid

A change a year ago — the first major shift in eligibility in nearly a quarter century — trims the window to make the Hall from 15 years to 10. Suddenly, an increasing number of voters will use one of those valuable picks for players about to exhaust immortality’s shot clock.

Suddenly, support slides to a player like Alan Trammell in his final season — and Lee Smith, who is one year away from falling off the ballot.


In short: No voting limit, no line. As is, there’s a line — and Hoffman is queued up with all the rest. Less votes mean fewer inductees as the spigot slows to a a slow trickle.

As Tom Petty sang, the waiting truly is the hardest part.

“It hurts anyone who isn’t like a Greg Maddux, a slam-dunk, no-question, there’s-not-a-debate guy,” said ESPN’s Buster Olney, who covered Hoffman when he worked at the San Diego Union-Tribune. “Ken Griffey is that guy. For anyone who’s not that guy, then it becomes a real problem.”

The dilemma concerned Olney enough that he stopped voting for the Hall.


To Olney, the limit handcuffed him from supporting players like Mike Mussina, who he covered at the New York Times and feels is Hall-worthy, as well as ESPN colleague Curt Schilling.

“To cast a ballot without putting their names on it, I was hurting their chances,” he said. “And I think they’re hall of famers.”

Olney’s point: The 10-vote restriction impacts the induction landscape.

“If there was a guy I thought deserved consideration toward the back-end of his eligibility — this year that would have been Alan Trammell — I probably would have put him in the 10th slot,” Olney said. “I don’t know for sure if I would have put Trevor on the ballot.


“That’s how ridiculous I thought the voting had become. I thought, ‘I just can’t do this fairly.’ ”

I asked Olney if Hoffman would have made his ballot if voting were unlimited.

“Without a doubt,” he said. “No question.”

Olney ran into Hoffman at the most recent World Series, telling the former Padre that he respected him so much that he would do everything in his power to attend his induction ceremony when it happens.


The word was “when,” not “if.”

“He’ll get in,” Olney said. “There’s no doubt he’ll get in.”

The core reasons Hoffman will walk into baseball’s most hallowed front door are too compelling to ignore.

Hoffman piled up the second-most saves in baseball history. His total of 601 trails only sure-fire hall of famer Mariano Rivera. Rollie Fingers and Goose Gossage, two current Hall members, would need to combine career saves (651) to simply near that type of late-game, high-stress production.


Heck, the National League’s relief pitcher of the year award is named after … Trevor Hoffman.

To those leaning on sabermetrics and the argument that limited innings means limited work and impact, I’ll offer a challenge: Try it.

Walk away from the laptop and attempt to mow down the heart of the Yankees lineup on a frigid October night with the tying run on base and millions watching on TV.

Easier typed than done.


“I think there can be some paralysis by analysis on this stuff. You can overthink it,” Olney said. “Having so many conversations with pitchers and managers over the year, for a guy to do that role for so long, that’s rare.

“You see guys drop out of that role, like Joe Nathan. You see Brad Lidge in that role, drop out, then he did it again. When I covered Jeff Nelson for the Yankees, he flat-out said to me, ‘I don’t want the ninth inning. No way.’

“Careers have been destroyed by a bad moment in those situations. Donnie Moore … Calvin Schiraldi, Mark Wohlers. Mariano and Hoffman, those guys were like metronomes. They could deal with failure and have short memories in ways other guys can’t.

“To have these guys go along like plow horses and continue that role after some tough moments in the postseason, it says a lot about their character as competitors.”


Olney rightfully contended that those in dugouts best understand the unique hurdles for closers.

“I think players get that more than writers do,” he said. “They understand the difference between pitching the ninth inning rather than seventh inning.”

Jeff Sanders, one of the Union-Tribune’s fantastic baseball writers, dug up context that shows Hoffman’s first-ballot performance bodes well for his Hall chances.

Now that former Dodgers slugger Mike Piazza has made the cut, there are only two players in history who received at least 60 percent voting and failed to walk into Cooperstown: Gil Hodges and Jack Morris.


Hoffman can start working on his induction speech. There’s just no need to rush.

On Twitter: @Bryce_A_Miller