SEATTLE — As I looked at my Baseball Hall of Fame ballot that included checkmarks on the boxes next to nine players’ names, I stared at the open box next to another name: Félix Hernández.

Memories of a brilliant career that somehow seems unfulfilled began to play in my mind. In 18 years covering baseball, I’ve written more words about Hernández than any other player. Most were laudatory in the beginning, and too many had to be critical at the end. I likened his career to a Shakespearean tragedy. I honestly could have written many more. He is the most fascinating baseball player I’ve covered.

I thought about the first time I watched Félix Hernández pitch in person, on Aug. 8, 2006 at then-Safeco Field. It was an outing and outcome that proved to be prescient of starts and seasons ahead.

I had just moved to the Pacific Northwest after being hired as a general assignment sports reporter for The News Tribune in Tacoma. I was there to shadow the late Larry Larue and observe the protocol for covering a Mariners game.

Having read about the pitching prodigy dubbed “King Félix,” I was eager to see if the hype was real. His first full season at the MLB level, following an audacious debut the year prior, had been somewhat of a disappointment. He’d arrived to spring training overweight — or as he later called himself, “Fat Félix” — and struggled to pitch with consistency. For every solid start there would be at least two that were subpar.

But facing a bad Tampa Bay team, Hernández delivered a dominant performance. He pitched eight innings, allowing a run on five hits with a walk, and he struck out five on 111 pitches with 68 strikes … and took a no-decision. He screamed after strikeouts, he pounded his glove after double plays and basked in the deserved applause. He was competitive, charismatic and talented.

Unfortunately, the Mariners lineup was stymied by a pitcher named Jae Weong Seo, scoring only one run on a Kenji Johjima RBI single over the starter’s seven innings. So when Hernández finished his eight innings, he walked off the mound to a standing ovation and the score tied. The Mariners eventually won in the 10th inning on a Richie Sexson walk-off grand slam.

It was the 11th time in his young career that Hernández had delivered a quality start — six or more innings pitched with three runs or fewer allowed — and taken either a no-decision or loss. He didn’t mention taking the no-decision or the lack of run support postgame. He was just happy the team won.

It was frustrating theme that would prevail far too often in his starts over the next 10 seasons. Hernández would produce a strong outing, the Mariners wouldn’t do enough offensively to help him get the win, or they wouldn’t even win the game.

From his MLB debut on Aug. 4, 2005 through the 2016 season, his pitching prime, Hernández produced 240 quality starts. He posted a 132-36 record with 72 no-decisions. Yes, 72 times, Hernández didn’t figure into the decision. How about two earned runs or fewer allowed in six-plus innings? A 121-21 record with 65 no-decisions. And seven-plus innings with two runs or fewer? A 108-16 record with 49 no-decisions.

If you recall, the Mariners mustered all of one run in Hernández’s perfect game in 2012.

In subsequent years, when a Mariners starting pitcher delivered a quality start or better while receiving minimal or no run support — people would say he got “Félix’d.”

So many game stories were detailed with how the Mariners squandered those wasted Hernández outings. Even then, I understood I was covering pitching greatness, regardless of the decision. I believed I was watching a pitcher building a résumé that would carry him to Cooperstown, N.Y., the home of the National Baseball Hall of Fame.

Voting for the 2025 class will be announced Tuesday, and this is Hernández’s first year on the ballot along with former teammate Ichiro.

Hernández’s path to baseball’s greatest individual honor was sidetracked over the final three years of his career. The effects of a massive workload in his early years, the inability to adjust to his diminishing stuff and the refusal to recognize that Father Time was tougher to defeat than any hitter were the larger culprits. The realization that he needed to change came too late.

But what if Hernández’s teams during that 10-year span of his best seasons were a little less flawed and a little bit better? What if the Mariners had invested more into making those teams into contenders or something more than hopefully competitive? The thought of Hernández starting a playoff game in his prime leaves a melancholy feeling.

What if he would’ve picked up wins in just over half of those 65 games that he pitched seven-plus innings and allowed two runs or fewer instead of taking a no-decision or a loss?

Though the value or importance of a pitcher’s win has slowly diminished as people’s understanding of baseball stats evolved over the years, it is still a counting stat that has long mattered when it comes to Hall of Fame voting.

Remember the discontent from many baseball fans and writers when Hernández won the 2010 AL Cy Young Award with a 13-12 record?

Adding 33 wins and subtracting 10 losses to his career record of 169-136 makes his Hall of Fame resume more attractive to many voters.

While he must shoulder the blame for the lackluster performances in the final three seasons of his career — a 15-27 record and 5.42 ERA, Hernández couldn’t control the talent or lack thereof around him in the 10 years prior.

From his debut date through the 2016 season, the top three pitchers:

— Justin Verlander: 350 starts, 2,327 2/3 innings, 173-104 record, 3.45 ERA, 2,190 strikeouts, 54.7 fWAR

— Félix Hernández: 358 starts, 2,410 2/3 innings, 154-108 record, 3.16 ERA, 2,260 strikeouts, 53.5 fWAR

— CC Sabathia: 336 starts, 2,272 innings, 163-97 record, 3.48 ERA, 2,039 strikeouts, 48.3 fWAR

Sabathia (this year) and Verlander (if he ever retires) are expected to gain Hall of Fame induction aided by their longevity — both starting more than 500 games — and ability to be effective in their mid- to late 30s.

Many voters rely on the qualification that a player must be the most dominant at their position for a decade. Hernández was that pitcher. He arguably should’ve had a second AL Cy Young Award as well.

From 2009 through 2014 he had the lowest ERA, the most strikeouts and fWAR of any starting pitcher in the American League.

In his final start at T-Mobile Park, an emotional farewell between a transcendent performer and the fan base that adored him, venerable Seattle Times columnist Larry Stone (who will one day find his way to Cooperstown enshrinement), lamented that Hernández’s chance at the Hall of Fame was gone. The longevity needed to bolster the counting stats relied upon by many voters wasn’t going to happen.

I’ve rarely disagreed with Larry, a man who covered Babe Ruth’s retirement, when it came to such historical perspectives. I have my doubts that Hernández will garner induction. And I understand why people wouldn’t vote for him. But I checked that box next to his name on my ballot out of respect for what I watched and what SHOULD’VE been for him.

The larger reason was to help him garner the 5% of the vote needed to keep his name on the ballot for next year and hopefully years beyond. Maybe as the Hall of Fame voting base grows younger, his numbers may grow. Perhaps, he can gain induction by the “eras” committee when his eligibility ends.

I voted for Félix Hernández for the Hall of Fame and will continue to do as long as he’s on the ballot.

©2025 The Seattle Times. Visit seattletimes.com. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.