Congratulations are due Bruce Sutter, the newest member of the Baseball Hall of Fame. Yesterday was doubtless wonderful for him, his family, and his friends. It was not such a good day, though, for the writers who vote for the Hall. They passed on many better qualified candidates, and elected perhaps the least-qualified candidate they’ve ever enshrined. (There are many worse players than Sutter in the Hall, but the Veterans Committee, which has often functioned as a vehicle for old school players to admit their unqualified cronies, elected them.)

The case for Sutter rests on the claim that he was a uniquely dominant pitcher, and that he changed baseball history in two ways: by popularizing the split-fingered fastball, and serving as the prototype for the modern, one inning closer. There’s not much validity to any of them.

The first claim is easy to disprove. Sutter pitched in 12 different seasons, and was effective in only eight of them. In those seasons, he wasn’t much better than widely derided former Mets closer Armando Benitez.

Does this sound farcical? Take ERA+ as one measure of value; it’s ERA, adjusted for park and league and indexed on a scale where 100 is league average, 200 is half the league average, and so on. Then line up Sutter’s eight good seasons against Benitez’s best eight seasons:

Sutter was a better pitcher than Benitez – he pitched 100 innings a year rather than 80, won a Cy Young in 1979, and came through in big spots. Still, anyone who lines up this neatly with Benitez is no Hall of Famer. Comparisons to the likes of John Wetteland, Robb Nen, and even Jeff Montgomery are even worse for Sutter.

The second claim – that Sutter changed baseball by introducing the split-finger fastball – isn’t really true. The pitch had been around in various forms since the 19th century. And anyway, popularizing a pitch isn’t a very compelling credential. Mike Mussina brought the knuckle-curve back from a long period of neglect. Is anyone going to rest his Hall of Fame case on that feat?

The third claim, that Sutter was essentially the first modern closer – he was the first pitcher to be brought in mainly in save situations – is easily the strongest argument made on his behalf, and it deserves consideration. The Hall of Fame should have a place for pioneers, even those who aren’t that much better than Armando Benitez.

There are a few problems with the argument, though. First, the use of Sutter did not represent a radical break with the baseball strategy of his day. Pitchers like Goose Gossage and Rollie Fingers were being used largely in save situations while Sutter was still in the minors; Sutter being used almost exclusively that way was an incremental change.

Additionally, Sutter was not used in the same way a pitcher like Mariano Rivera is. He averaged about 1 2/3 IP per appearance in his best years. And most important, Sutter’s use was not a tactical, on-field innovation, but a matter of managerial discretion. He proved a pitcher could be effective in a certain narrowly defined role, but the credit for the new strategy, and thus for the change in the game, should go to Cubs manager Herman Franks.

Why Sutter was elected is, honestly, a mystery to me. He was dominant at his best, made a real impression on those who watched him because he embodied one of the great changes of his time, and was associated with a new pitch that hurlers like Roger Clemens would ride to unprecedented success in the next generation. All that is reason to remember him. But there’s little case to be made that Sutter deserved election more than Will Clark or Albert Belle, let alone Gossage or Bert Blyleven. His admission is a mistake.

Among the consequences of this mistake is that now anyone can make an argument for pretty much any reliever who’s put together a stretch where he was among the best closers in the game. Wetteland and Nen were better than Sutter at his best, and dominated in the World Series to boot. If he’s in, they have a pretty good argument.

Everyone knows that Wetteland and Nen aren’t Hall of Famers, but the current lack of standards as to what qualifies a reliever for Cooperstown is a problem. Gossage was vastly superior to Sutter, and fell 52 votes short yesterday. How, then, do we know who deserves election?

For 30 years now, teams have used closers primarily in save innings, and paid the best of them sums of money that rival what the best starters are paid. This, along with the fact that great teams tend to have great closers, makes a fair case that relievers are comparable to starters.

Indeed, statistical research has shown that the innings a typical closer pitches are about twice as valuable as those a starter pitches; if you multiply a closer’s innings by two, you can get a good approximation of his value as compared to a top starter while comparing apples to apples, or at least to pears.

All this means two things. First, baseball writers should stop treating closers as if they’re less important than starters. They aren’t. If Jack Morris is getting serious Hall consideration, Dan Quisenberry should have a plaque on the wall. This also means holding relievers to the same standards as starters; from this view, Sutter looks to me a bit like Bret Saberhagen or David Cone, someone who was awesome at his best but just didn’t quite have the durability or electricity to be considered a truly great pitcher.

Second, writers should start using some common sense in judging relievers’ value, and maybe mentally doubling their innings as one way of trying to gauge their real value. Considering what happened yesterday, Rivera is an even surer bet for election than he was before; those behind him should be judged using practical standards. Trevor Hoffman is not a great player in the sense Rivera is, but he’s quite comparable to someone like Don Sutton, and deserves enshrinement. Eric Gagne, if he goes on another run like the one he enjoyed before he got injured, might well deserve some Dizzy Dean-type consideration.

And in this comparison, Gossage is a Blyleven or Ron Santo – someone who’s been jobbed for too long and watched inferior players receive the honors due him. Next year, the Hall of Fame should fix its newest mistake and elect the Goose.

tmarchman@nysun.com