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Like Lewis, Mitchell (45-1-2, 21 KO) defeated every man he faced as a pro. The two draws against Joe Rivera and Tony Lopez were avenged in rematches and the one defeat to Jacob Morake in his seventh pro fight was reversed three times over. The last reversal ended in tragic fashion after Morake died of his injuries following his 12th round TKO loss in November 1985. Mitchell didn't sport a flashy nickname and he didn't produce electrifying knockouts; instead he won with hard-earned fundamentals and limitless reserves of stamina. There were few easy nights in the ring for Mitchell, but because he punched in and punched them out, he is finally punching his ticket to Canastota.

Over the years I have run into friends who are also voters and to a man they said they voted for Mitchell. That just added to my confusion; if they voted for him and I voted for him, why didn't he get in? Regular readers of my columns know that I have long been an advocate for Mitchell and for that reason it will be especially gratifying to hear his acceptance speech and, God willing, be part of the multitude that will applaud it.

Of the three inductees the most grief has been heaped on Canizales, who holds the record for bantamweight title defenses (16) over a six-year three-month reign. His title-winning performance against Kelvin Seabrooks (KO 15) was a breathtaking fusion of speed, skill and power and the fact he won the belt from one of history's most resilient fighters gave him the chance to showcase every aspect of his talent. That talent carried him to a lengthy reign, but the main gripe by most of his critics is his quality of competition. I must admit, they do have a point. I

In my opinion, the best challengers he defeated besides Seabrooks (who he stopped in a rematch) were Clarence "Bones" Adams (a future champion who was then an undefeated but green 18-year-old) and Paul Gonzales (an anticlimactic cut-shortened TKO that avenged a defeat). None of them will ever get Hall of Fame consideration and it hurts Canizales' case that he didn't attempt to unify the belts. It also doesn't help that he lost split decisions to Wilfredo Vazquez and Junior Jones (two former bantamweight champs from his era) once he rose to 122.

Despite those negatives, he still earned my check mark. A fighter can do no more than beat the gauntlet of opponents presented to him and more often than not financial and political issues prevent more career-defining fights from being made. Those factors are out of the fighter's control, for it is his management's job to secure the matches. Because Canizales produced a long record of success in a historically significant division, and because he showcased a superlative skill set in doing so, I didn't object to his elevation.

Other names I was particularly happy to see include Bobby Goodman in the Non-Participant category and the duo of Larry Merchant and Hugh McIlvanney among the Observers. Goodman e-mailed me after the Leland Hardy-Ike Padilla Closet Classic was posted and we've maintained an occasional correspondence since. I've had the pleasure of meeting Merchant several times when I worked the keys for HBO telecasts and I've always been impressed by his ability to translate his talents for the written word into his broadcasting. His gift for turning a phrase is legendary and it is the envy of certainly this scribe. As for McIlvanney, "The Hardest Game" is among my all-time favorite anthologies because of its muscular, descriptive prose and it has kept me company on more than a few trips. Every time I need an inspirational injection from an unquestioned master of the craft, all I need to do is read a few paragraphs but I usually end up reading much more. I look forward to meeting the man behind the words.

Although I was pleased with this year's Modern class, I wasn't overjoyed because there are other names that I believe are just as deserving of enshrinement.

One of my chat room cohorts, our own Marty Mulcahey, recently posed an interesting question – had Canizales campaigned in the Orient instead of America, would he have been elected? Another colleague, IBRO member Don Koss, came up with the definitive answer – "Yoko Gushiken." Canizales was no doubt helped by the fact that most of his defenses were seen on American TV and because the vast majority of voters are based in the U.S., he had sufficient name identification. Name recognition, whether the arena is boxing or politics, is all-powerful. How else can some first-ballot elevations in recent years (Ingemar Johannson, Barry McGuigan, Edwin Rosario among others) be explained? While all of them were outstanding, they lacked the long-term championship-level dominance that defines the best of the best. As a result, the IBHOF’s reputation – and by extension its voters – has suffered greatly.

It frustrates me to no end that Gushiken – along with Jung Koo Chang and Myung Woo Yuh – have been repeatedly passed over. I don't know why for certain, but I have two suspicions. First, my peers may have had other fighters higher on their personal agendas or second, they don't know – or worse, don't care – about their accomplishments. If the latter is the case, it is beyond inexcusable. Anyone who is charged with the responsibility of determining a fighter's immortality should do everything in his power to come to an informed decision. Ignorance should no longer be a factor with fight footage widely available on YouTube and their records on Boxrec.com.

Which brings me to a possible reform, one that I have advocated in past columns: Along with the ballot, voters must also submit a document explaining the reasons behind their selections. This shouldn't be too onerous a task, for electors should have already done the necessary research.

If that idea doesn't fly, then why not take their arguments public? Because most voters are boxing writers, they should be more than capable of explaining their views in a cogent, rational way. Since many of them have a forum by which to expound their views they can make their cases before the readers – and perhaps fellow voters. That was how our own Marty Mulcahey persuaded me to vote for Duilio Loi. If one is confident about his thought processes, he should be able to share them with the public.

In that spirit, allow me to dip back into the archives and provide my justifications for Gushiken, Chang and Yuh that appeared in 2003 in my three-part series entitled "The Deserving Dozen":

Yoko Gushiken (1974-1981, 23-1, 15 KO): Gushiken carried the nickname "kanmuriwashi," which means "fierce eagle" in Japanese. The moniker was an appropriate one because once the southpaw junior flyweight spotted an opening, he quickly swooped in and polished off his prey with precision and power. Along with Luis Estaba, Gushiken was one of the 108-pound division's first great champions and he remains one of the hardest-punching little men who has yet lived. After Gushiken won the WBA title in his ninth pro fight, he proceeded to embark on a reign of terror that would last for the next four-and-a-half years.

Why I voted for him: A Hall of Famer must demonstrate clear superiority over his division for an extended period of time, and Gushiken certainly did that as he racked up 13 title defenses, eclipsing Estaba's then-divisional record of 11. His best victories came over former champion Jaime Rios (W 15, KO 13), the 25-1 Juan Antonio Guzman (KO 7), Rigoberto Marcano (W 15, KO 7), future 115-pound champion Rafael Pedroza (W 15), former flyweight champion Alfonso Lopez (KO 7), perennial title challenger Martin Vargas (KO 8) and future conqueror Pedro Flores (W 15). Nine of his 13 defenses came by knockout, including seven in a row. Gushiken accomplished all this by the time he retired at age 25 following his only defeat, a 12th-round TKO to Flores.

Myung Woo Yuh (1982-1993, 38-1, 14 KO): Yuh captured the WBA junior flyweight title in 1985 by beating Joey Olivo in Taegu, South Korea on what many observers thought was a hometown decision. But once Yuh won the title, he proceeded to stamp himself as one of the division's most dominant titlists as he reigned for the better part of seven years over two reigns. The South Korean depended heavily on a high work rate and better-than-average defensive skills to make up for his less-than-average punching power. It was a style that served him well with the judges and left many of his opponents battered, yet fully conscious of their defeat at the end.

Why I voted for him: Very few titlists in boxing history have held a championship as long as Yuh did. The South Korean holds the divisional record for title defenses with 18 over two reigns, and the second reign lasted for only one defense before Yuh stepped away from the stage at age 29.

Before Yuh won the title, he defeated future flyweight title challenger Rae-Ki Ahn (W 4) and future IBF flyweight champion Bi-Won Chung (W 10). His title fight victims included future WBO titlist Jose DeJesus (W 15, W 12), Argentine buzzsaw Mario DeMarco (W 15, W 12), future IBF flyweight king Rodolfo Blanco (KO 8), future four-division champion Leo Gamez (W 12, W 12 and Gamez was undeeated when Yuh met him the first time) and two-division champion Hiroki Ioka (the only man to have beaten Yuh, and that was by majority decision in Ioka's home country). That means Yuh is one of the few champions in boxing history that could say that he has beaten every opponent he's ever faced.

One of the best examples of Yuh's determination occurred in his first fight with DeMarco. The Argentine came out with an all-out attack, easily throwing more than 100 punches per round. The strategy was to keep the defensive-minded Yuh occupied with blocking punches instead of throwing them. But Yuh chose to fire back punch for punch and the result was one of the most entertaining punch-fests in division history. More than 3,000 punches were exchanged over 15 rounds and Yuh emerged with the victory.

Jung Koo Chang (1980-1991, 38-4, 17 KO): "The Korean Hawk" certainly lived up to his nickname as he swarmed, mauled, brawled and swallowed up his opponents during a five-year reign as WBC junior flyweight champion. During that time he amassed 15 title defenses to surpass Yoko Gushiken's divisional record of 13. Unlike future conqueror Humberto Gonzalez, Chang's reign was uninterrupted an his all-action style drew large enthusiastic crowds throughout South Korea.

Why I voted for him: Longevity, plain and simple. What separates Hall of Famers from very good fighters is long-term dominance over their respective divisions and Chang certainly did that. He pre-title opposition included future IBF flyweight champion Hi-Sup Shin (W 4), former flyweight champion Alfonso Lopez (KO 3) and former junior flyweight king Amado Ursua (W 10). His first title shot was a disputed decision loss to WBC 108-pound king Hilario Zapata, a loss Chang avenged six months later by third-round KO over the weight-drained Panamanian. His notable title wins included future champion German Torres (three times), former champion Katsuo Tokashiki and future champions Sot Chitalada and Hideyuki Ohashi (twice).

Getting back to the present, a good case can be made that Gushiken is the greatest boxer Japan ever produced while Chang and Yuh are the best South Koreans ever. Both of these nations boast deep historical reservoirs and for the voters to ignore them year after year is an abomination. While my fellow electors in recent years have made strides in terms of electing non-Americans, there is still much work to be done as far as recognizing boxing's best "Little Big Men."

In the five years since "The Deserving Dozen" series ran, three have found their way on the ballot – Chang, Samuel Serrano and Miguel Lora. The third installment of the series revealed the names I voted for that year and happily five of them (Azumah Nelson, Terry Norris, Loi, Mitchell and Daniel Zaragoza) have since been elected. Some have been on the ballot all along (Yuh, Masao Ohba, Hilario Zapata) but have been mysteriously bypassed. But it is the names that have been kept off the ballot that continue to stir my passion for justice.

Sot Chitalada, Santos Laciar, Yuri Arbachakov, Jiro Watanabe, Lupe Pintor, Gilberto Roman, Sung Kil Moon, Danny "Little Red" Lopez and Luis Estaba have been retired far longer than the requisite five years yet they haven't gotten a sniff from the nominating committee. Each has a long record of success in their weight classes, and Lopez's omission is particularly galling given the fact he was one of the most compelling "television fighters" in history. Given the model of "American TV exposure = Hall of Fame enshrinement," Lopez should have given his acceptance speech years ago. But until room is made for them, they won't get the chance.

Which brings me to another suggestion: Either expand the roster to 50 names or remove those long-present names that draw the least number of votes. If a fighter draws less than two percent of the total vote during a given year – even if he's on the ballot for the first time – he should be summarily removed to make room for other candidates. If he can't attract as little as four votes out of 200, why is he there in the first place? As stated in the above paragraph, there is no shortage of deserving candidates waiting in the wings, so why not remove the excess to make room?

Do I appreciate the International Boxing Hall of Fame? You bet I do. Do I love engaging in the voting process and making my feelings known about the roster of candidates? Absolutely. Do I like the people who run it? A thousand times yes. Boxing is a great sport and the folks at the IBHOF have worked hard to ensure that the Induction Weekend is fulfilling to fighters and fans alike. That is to their great credit. The reason I am writing this column is that I want to see the IBHOF be the very best it can be and the best place to start is to give every fighter who deserves it a crack before a thoroughly educated electorate.

The fighters have already invested their blood and treasure for our entertainment and their financial stability. The least we as voters can do is to give them the same level of effort and consideration

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