"The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball," says James Earl Jones as Terence Mann in "Field of Dreams."
"America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. ... It reminds us of all that was once good and it could be again."
Baseball has remained a constant, ever since Civil War soldiers played it in between brutal and bloody battles. The game itself, however, has changed, at times subtly and at times more dramatically, most notably when Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier.
So ranking the top 100 players of all time is a difficult -- impossible? -- task. The ESPN panel of expert voters was asked to compare players from 1890 to players in 2016, asked to compare players who didn't play against black players or travel west of the Mississippi to players who now come to the major leagues not just from Latin America but from across the globe. How do you compare Babe Ruth, who didn't face pitchers throwing 90 mph sliders or a parade of relievers throwing 100, to Clayton Kershaw, who didn't have to pitch while sweating through a heavy wool uniform and who has yet to complete his career?
It is, ultimately, a subjective ranking, with voters asked to assess both a player's career and peak value, which can be dramatically different in how we view a player's ultimate legacy. Pete Rose played forever, a model of durability; Sandy Koufax had a short, glorious run of dominance.
We do, of course, rely on the numbers. But that can be tricky as well, even without factoring in that the major leagues were segregated until 1947, so all the best players weren't even playing against each other. Take the career leaders in wins above replacement on Baseball-Reference.com. Only five of the top 25 players of all time were born after World War II ended: Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Alex Rodriguez, Rickey Henderson and Greg Maddux. Does that intuitively make sense? That a large majority of the greatest players of all time began their careers before Alaska and Hawaii even became states?
Other sports don't hold on to history as tightly as baseball does. Few NBA fans will argue that Bob Cousy is better than Stephen Curry or Chris Paul. But in baseball, many will claim Cy Young -- 511 wins! -- is the greatest pitcher ever, even though he began his career when the pitching distance was still 50 feet and a pitcher's box existed instead of a slab of rubber.
In a way, however, that's what makes these debates so much fun. We can all bring different criteria to our judgments. Stick to the numbers and measure the players only against their peers? Fine. Or make a timeline adjustment and figure the overall talent level of the sport has gotten better -- and thus it's tougher to compile some of the gaudy numbers of the past. That's fine too. Want to factor in a player's postseason or World Series accomplishments? Go for it.
So there is no agreement here. But we did come up with a list. Hey, we have to start the debates somewhere. We considered Negro Leaguers as well as MLB players, although we did not consider players who played only in Japan (sorry, Sadaharu Oh).
Welcome to #MLBRank. Have fun as we roll out the position rankings and then the overall top 100 over the next 10 days, and let the arguments begin.