It seems like Cooperstown’s doors may never open for Dale Murphy

Greatness takes many forms. Unfortunately for Dale Murphy and his legion of fans, the gatekeepers of the Baseball Hall of Fame clearly don’t think his version of it merits the game’s ultimate honor.

The contemporary era committee spoke loudly Sunday night by again denying the beloved Braves legend a spot in the Hall. Barring unforeseen changes in the way candidates are viewed, it seems as if it’s just not going to happen for Murphy no matter how many committees consider him.

This was the fourth time Murphy’s case was in front of a veterans committee after 15 unsuccessful years on the Baseball Writers’ Association of America ballot. In all 19 attempts, he has not come appreciably close to making it.

Other greats have been elected after more failed committee bids than Murphy, but they’ve typically gotten more encouraging results than Murphy has to this point.

This time around, needing 12 votes from the 16-member committee, Murphy received six, as many as Don Mattingly — another 1980s fan favorite whose star, like Murphy’s, burned white hot for a stretch before cooling rapidly — but not as many as Jeff Kent (14, to earn induction) or Carlos Delgado (nine).

What did Kent do to out-ballot Murphy?

He didn’t earn back-to-back MVPs, like Murphy (though he did win one). He didn’t put together a six-year stretch where he arguably was the best all-around player in the game or close to it, like Murphy did from 1982-87, when he won both of his NL MVPs, received MVP votes and was an All-Star all six years and won five Gold Gloves and four Silver Sluggers.

And he didn’t cultivate the profound admiration and devotion from his team’s fan base the way Murphy did with his play, honor and decency. (Not that Kent was a bad guy, necessarily.)

But that ultimately wasn’t enough for Murphy, and Braves fans should probably come to grips with the reality that his day in the Cooperstown sun may never arrive.

As I wrote going into the weekend, Murphy probably will never have another time on the ballot when the odds appeared so stacked in his favor. He was on the ballot with three alleged or known PED users (Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens and former Brave Gary Sheffield) who, following established committee voting patterns, did not get any traction and posed no threat to Murphy’s candidacy.

And of the other four former players on the ballot, none had cases that seemed so compelling for induction, unlike other times when Murphy had been on committee ballots.

But it was for naught.

Kent’s selection explains a lot.

He played at a high level for a long time. He hit 351 of his 377 career home runs while playing second base, a record for the position. He also played in seven postseasons and a World Series to Murphy’s one playoff appearance.

You can make a compelling argument that Kent was the best power hitter ever at his position.

Murphy’s star rose higher than Kent’s, but Kent’s twinkled longer. In Murphy’s final six seasons (1988-93) — comprising 661 games, 30% of his career — he hit .234 with 88 home runs and 339 RBIs, beset by knee problems. On a per-162 game average, that’s 22 home runs and 88 RBIs and a boatload of outs. The NL batting average over that time — when pitchers were still hitting — was .253.

By comparison, in Kent’s final six seasons — 796 games, or about 35% of his career — he had similar production, averaging 21 home runs and 85 RBIs. But, it should be pointed out, Kent put those numbers up at a lighter-hitting position and also had a significantly higher batting average (.292). Further, it should be noted, his best six-year peak wasn’t so far beneath Murphy’s.

An OPS+ score takes a players’ OPS and incorporates factors such as ballparks and measures it against league averages, with 100 being the average. It’s a helpful tool to compare players across eras. Murphy’s OPS+ for his six-year peak was 145. Kent’s was 136.

It probably helped Kent’s cause that the seven Hall of Famers on the committee had careers that largely could be considered more like Kent’s than Murphy’s. For instance, they totaled one Cy Young Award and two MVP’s.

For better or worse, long-term productivity won the day again.

It doesn’t have to be this way. The Hall’s basis for voting doesn’t define criteria beyond broad categories such as playing ability and contribution to the team.

What seems a subjective matter largely is defined as prolonged achievement with little consideration for a briefer (though still meaningful) segment of absolute brilliance.

It’s like saying an actor is great only if he or she has starred in serious films or that a restaurant can’t be great if it serves french fries. Sometimes, you just know it when you see it.

Only when the committee includes more voters willing to embrace that notion will Murphy have a shot. His next chance will come in 2028.

Unfortunately, thanks to the Hall’s new rules about era committee candidates who receive fewer than five votes being ineligible for the next cycle, steroids-linked pariahs Bonds, Clemens and Sheffield won’t be on the ballot to aid Murphy’s chances.

We don’t have to like that Cooperstown may never welcome the adored Murph or agree with the reasoning.

But we may have to accept it.