Going back to Cooperstown each year for the Hall of Fame induction ceremonies is a bit different for me because I wear two hats. As well as being a returning Hall of Famer, I serve as vice chairman of the Hall's Board of Directors, trying to figure out ways to improve the Hall and maintain its integrity.

I enjoy both roles, but it's far more enjoyable to sit around with the other Hall of Famers and swap war stories. To me, the Baseball Hall of Fame is the most prestigious fraternity in the world. Hall of Fame players are in the top one percent of the all the players who ever played the game. I get a thrill just hanging out with the other players.

What stands out about (Kirby) Puckett is something Tony La Russa told me about 10 years ago when he was managing the Oakland A's. I asked La Russa who he thought was the best player in the American League, and he said Puckett. La Russa said Puckett played the game hard whether the score was 10-0 in his favor or not in his favor. He played the game with the same enthusiasm every day.

On the first night my wife, Theresa, and I usually sit with Sandy Koufax and Bob Gibson and their wives and drink champagne together. We may start off talking about family or friends, but the focus of the discussion eventually shifts to baseball and all facets of the game.

Gibson may comment about how pitchers can't pitch inside anymore. Koufax, who is not as quiet as people think when he's around his friends, once said something I'm still trying to figure out. He said he pitched very similar to Greg Maddux does now -- away, away, away. But Koufax didn't have to pitch away because he was so overpowering.

I have had discussions with Robin Roberts and Warren Spahn about how they thought today's pitchers don't throw enough to build arm strength. It's enlightening and fun to hear them talk because they all have different philosophies on pitching.

Other Hall of Famers comment about how easy it is to hit home runs, with the smaller ballparks and the livelier ball. A lot of them watch Sunday Night Baseball on ESPN and have questions about today's players. Like most baseball fans, they usually have a favorite player.

The Hall of Famers have a special Sunday night dinner to welcome the new inductees. It's for Hall of Famers only; not even the spouses can attend. We talk about concerns, changing the format of the induction ceremonies or improvements to enhance the enjoyment of the Hall of Fame weekend.

Usually, a Hall of Famer will stand up, welcome a new inductee and say something about him. I will always remember that Ted Williams stood up to welcome me into the Hall when I was inducted in 1990. Unfortunately, Ted is too ill to attend the ceremonies this year, but he is the John Wayne of the Hall of Fame. Everyone looks to Ted when he is there. He is such a people person, someone who loves to talk to the other players about baseball.

Williams, Bobby Doerr and I started talking about hitting once. By the time we were finished, Bobby started laughing because Ted tends to get really excited. You feel like you are at some kind of rally. He and Doerr always had a running argument. Bobby says a hitter should swing level and down on the ball, while Ted always thought a hitter should have a slight uppercut in his swing. Bobby would bring it up just to tease Ted.

I spoke this week to Willie Mays, and he said he would be in Cooperstown. It's special to see all the players, from Stan Musial to former teammates like Johnny Bench and manager Sparky Anderson to other players I played against.

A surreal experience
I had never visited Cooperstown before I was inducted. In 1990, Theresa and I got a private tour of the Hall on the Friday before the induction ceremonies. We were left in the enshrinement room, where they hang the plaques. It was so quiet, like being in church. Standing in the room and looking at the plaques of Ruth, Mays and Aaron was a surreal feeling. I realized I was in a very special place.

Then I walked over to the place on the wall where an empty spot was reserved for my plaque. Then everything hit me about how lucky I was to play Major League Baseball and then be immortalized with all the other great players. Looking at the spot, I felt numb. It seemed like the spot had always been there waiting for me. I flashed back to when my father taught me how to play the game and all the other things that led to my enshrinement. That moment was more important than seeing my plaque for the first time.

Before going to the Hall of Fame, I had been a fan of baseball history, especially Negro League history. I did my college thesis on the Negro Leagues. I wanted to know more about all those guys. I'd always read everything I could when I was a kid about baseball.

Now when I visit the museum, I first make sure my plaque is still hanging. Then I like to go floor to floor and see all the exhibits. There is just so much to see. I check out the new additions and then work my way back to things I have already seen. A lot of times I end up at "The Big Red Machine" exhibit. One of my gloves is there, as well as items from Bench, Sparky, Pete Rose and Tony Perez.

When I get to The Otesaga hotel, I like to walk out on the back porch and look out over Lake Otsego. I take in the view for a while because I know every other Hall of Famer has come to Cooperstown and probably done the same thing. Enjoying Cooperstown, a small, beautiful, rural town, is another important part of the experience, especially coming from a big city. If I get there early enough before the crowds, I can take a walk through town. There is no place in the world like it.

The new class
This year Kirby Puckett, Dave Winfield and Bill Mazeroski get to experience it for the first time as Hall of Famers. Along with the late Hilton Smith, they will forever be linked as Hall of Fame classmates, just as I will always be linked to Jim Palmer from the Class of 1990. Like Puckett and Winfield, Palmer and I were both first-ballot Hall of Famers. It's quite an honor because only 36 players own that distinction.

I only played a few games against Puckett since his career and mine only overlapped one year -- 1984. I'm not as familiar with Puckett as I am with Winfield and Mazeroski. And I don't know much about Smith.

But what stands out about Puckett is something Tony La Russa told me about 10 years ago when he was managing the Oakland A's. I asked La Russa who he thought was the best player in the American League, and he said Puckett. La Russa said Puckett played the game hard whether the score was 10-0 in his favor or not in his favor. He played the game with the same enthusiasm every day.

It was great to hear what La Russa said because his description of Puckett reminded me of Pete Rose. I don't care much about numbers, even Rose's 4,256 hits. It's more important what the player does and how he plays the game.

I remember when Winfield first entered the majors. He never played in the minors, going directly from the University of Minnesota to the San Diego Padres. Other than Winfield's size and strength, there was something about him that made you pay attention. He hustled, played the game intelligently and had a very strong arm in right field.

Winfield had a long, level swing. When he got on top of the ball, man, he hit it hard. He struggled at first because he had to suddenly face big-league curveballs and quality pitchers. But everyone knew he would eventually adjust and become a good player. After a few years, he grew in confidence and became an bona-fide player and a perennial All-Star.

I was glad to see Mazeroski get voted into the Hall of Fame because he was the best defensive second baseman I've ever seen. He turned the double play better than anyone.

In Mazeroski's era, a second baseman's job was to play defense, turn the double play and get a hit in a clutch situation every once in a while. But the role of second basemen began to evolve during my career. Now second basemen are more offensive-minded and hitting more home runs. The game was different, so it's hard to compare Mazeroski to Roberto Alomar and other present players because his hitting numbers won't compare favorably. But in his time, he was much better defensively than any other second basemen.

When I played against Pittsburgh once, Willie Stargell told me to go out before the game and watch Mazeroski take infield practice. His nickname was "No Touch," and I was amazed the first time I watched him. I told Willie, "I don't know if I could ever do that."

I tried to emulate Mazeroski on the double play. He never cheated; he put his left foot in the middle of the bag, stepped across and made the throw. To this day that's the simplest way to make the double play. Footwork is the key to the double play.

When I got to the major leagues, I was an offensive player; defense was my weakness. But I watched Mazeroski and worked at my game. I was never as good as Mazeroski, but I became a five-time Gold Glove winner and took pride in my ability to turn the double play.

With the addition of a new class, the greatest players ever will be descending on Cooperstown. Seeing Koufax, Gibson and other Hall of Famers walking down the street in that setting reminds you of the late greats who made the same visit -- like Ruth, Rogers Hornsby and Jackie Robinson, who changed the game, transforming it into a true major leagues with all the best players playing.

Hall of Fame second baseman Joe Morgan is a baseball analyst for ESPN.