Adam Hanson was a bat boy and then clubhouse attendant for much of Joe Mauer's career with the Twins. These young men get to know players as well as teammates.

Hanson's current job is as chapter president for the Associated Builders and Contractors of Minnesota/North Dakota.

Mauer had such regard for Adam that he agreed to be the speaker at an annual conclave this past Wednesday night at the Metropolitan Ballroom and Clubroom, just past Hwy. 100 and on the Golden Valley side of Interstate 394.

Joe made this commitment a while back, a hint he shared the belief that he was a long shot to reach the Hall of Fame in his first year on the ballot.

Members of the Baseball Writers' Association of America cast these ballots — the first requirement being a cardholder for 10 years. There were more than 350 voters this time.

The threshold is daunting, 75% to reach Cooperstown, and it has been extra difficult to get there in Year 1. The maximum number of candidates to be checked on the paper ballot remains 10.

The voting has changed in the past 15 years, roughly. Newer members are more generous with the number of players voted for, and they are also more likely to reveal their ballots ahead of time.

I've been voting since the start of the 1980s. For years, I didn't reveal my choices at any point, mainly to annoy those outside forces shouting "the writers MUST reveal" their ballots.

Now, I follow the BBWAA guideline that a ballot will be posted on our website two weeks after the results are announced.

A gent named Ryan Thibodaux has become increasingly successful in tracking early ballots, as voters reveal their ballots on social media posts, podcasts and in articles.

Thibodaux's accounting kept telling us Mauer was above 80% and was very likely to become a first-ballot Hall of Famer, along with landslide first-timer Adrián Beltré.

Delighted though he was with Mauer's positive projections for Cooperstown, this did put Hanson in a bind for a "speaker" at Wednesday night's event.

He contacted me a couple of weeks ago with this proposition: "If Joe makes it, he has to be in New York on Wednesday, and we need a sub. Could you do it on short notice?"

I agreed, but said jokingly, "But only if I make what Joe's making for the speech."

Hanson said that was no problem, since Mauer was going to do it for nothing.

Fair enough. The Metropolitan is a couple miles from home. Make the light on Hwy. 55 and you're there in five minutes.

I didn't ask for a scouting report on the crowd. Figured there would be 70, 80 people, I'd offer some low-brow satire on various sports figures — P.J. Fleck being a definite — and go from there.

There were a couple of problems with that plan:

One, for a considerable time now, there have been strong hints that satire is dying in this divided America in which we now exist. I'm not talking Mel Brooks' "Blazing Saddles," "he'd never get away with that today" satire — just the basic one-liners that most people "got" for decades that now fall flat.

An old and slow learner, I keep trying, particularly on X/Twitter.

Two, I arrived in a sweater and black jeans, with no notes, and there were 280 people there, suits or sports coats for men, some evening wear among women.

My thought bubble: "This isn't good."

There were talented musicians as dinner was served. Then, the happy news that Mauer was elected to the Hall of Fame was repeated, followed by the sad news that Joe wouldn't be there, and instead we have this tubby old guy in a sweater.

I gave a nod to the crowd and tried the satire angle, of course:

"Don't be too disappointed. Joe would've been his boring self in his speech, anyway."

I'm fairly certain I heard a slight guffaw way in the back.

. . .

One more Class of 2024 Hall of Fame note:

I was in Seattle with the Twins in the summer of 2005. Beltré was in the first year of a high-priced contract with the Mariners, falling below expectations and getting criticism.

Dan Gladden, then and now a Twins announcer, walked over in the hotel lobby and said: "The Twins should go get Beltré. It's just an off year — that guy's great."

The Twins didn't. And Beltré followed with a dozen years of greatness.