OPINION: Josh Gibson is a legend who died at age 35. He deserves to be a household name.

Editor’s note: Jean Seymour is a critic who writes about music, film and culture for The New York Times, Newsday, Entertainment Weekly and The Washington Post. Follow him on X. Jean SeymourThe opinions expressed in this commentary are solely those of the author. Further comments On CNN.

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When something completely, almost uniquely unexpected happens in the sports-industrial complex, hyperbole makers are often eager to invoke impossible metaphors to characterize the utter improbability of it all.

You see, pigs can fly! The Republican Party is liberal again! The Detroit Lions are in the Super Bowl!

Now, you might be inclined to feel the same way when Major League Baseball’s statisticians make the announcement this week: Josh Gibson, one of the best hitters in Negro League history, has become the best hitter in baseball history with a career batting average of .372, surpassing Ty Cobb’s career batting average of .367.

The promotion came as MLB officials announced Tuesday that Negro League player statistics would be incorporated into baseball’s record books, three years after a 17-person committee of historians, statisticians and other experts was formed to correct what MLB called a “long-standing oversight.”

For decades, MLB has tried to reconcile its own history with that of the Negro Leagues, which on the one hand provided a haven for some of the 20th century’s greatest American athletes to make money playing the sport America loved, but on the other hand represented the utter absurdity of legally sanctioned segregation. As black superstars have contributed to the growth and evolution of baseball since Jackie Robinson broke the racial barrier in 1947, more and more people have wondered whether it is fair or accurate to say that early 20th century white baseball greats, from Walter Johnson to Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig and Joe DiMaggio, were greater players than other Negro legends, such as Gibson, Satchel Paige, Cool Papa Bell and Buck Leonard, whose talents have been more highly regarded since integration took effect.

Finally, as the saying goes, we can actually find out.

Gibson (1911-1947) was a catcher in the Negro Leagues during the racially segregated 1930s and 1940s, playing most of his career with the Pittsburgh Crawfords and Homestead Grays. He became legendary for his batting prowess and was nicknamed the “black Babe Ruth,” although blacks and whites who saw him play said Ruth might have been more appropriately called the “white Josh Gibson.”

Gibson is one of more than 2,300 players from the Negro Leagues whose statistics were collected and are now incorporated into official MLB history. The committee also determined that his single-season batting average of .466 with the Homestead Grays in 1943 was the new standard for such a batting average. Gibson was also recognized as the career leader in slugging percentage (.718) and OPS (on-base plus slugging) percentage (1.177), surpassing Ruth’s .690 and 1.164, respectively.

For generations of baseball fans, especially African-Americans, it has been somewhat of a surprise to wake up to a world where Gibson, whose premature death from a stroke at age 35 was blamed by friends and colleagues for the heartbreak of racism that prevented him from reaching his full potential in the major leagues, is now officially considered the greatest baseball player of all time.

But the debate (or conversation, if you’re more comfortable calling it that) will continue in baseball. Sure, Gibson was at least Ruth’s equal as a slugger, but Ruth was such a pitching genius early in his career that he still would have been in the Hall of Fame had his career ended before he was infamously sold by the Boston Red Sox to the New York Yankees in 1919.

Cobb’s supporters will, as always, tirelessly defend the excellence of their man. Cobb was known for his violent temper and prejudiced attitude toward black people, so it’s not hard to imagine that Cobb’s ghost would be infuriated. But the extremes of his racism have been called into question by modern historians, to the point that one wonders whether Cobb was ultimately as awed by Gibson’s prodigious talent as those who witnessed it.

For if there’s one belief the Church of Baseball holds above all others, it’s fairness, and this unwavering belief manifests itself in many ways, whether it’s in an umpire’s miscall or decades of injustice.

Consider, for example, that Gibson’s 1943 season, in which he batted an astounding .466, came two years after the incomparable Ted Williams’ magical 1941 season of batting average .406, the last season in which a major league player batted above the .400 barrier.

Few players were more voracious in their pursuit of their own accomplishments and their craft than Williams. He was also a passionate scholar of baseball history, so much so that at his own Hall of Fame induction ceremony in 1966, he urged Cooperstown to set aside space in his acceptance speech to honor Negro League players like Gibson, Satchel Paige and Buck Leonard, “who aren’t here because they never got a chance.”

Do you think Teddy Ballgame cared that Josh Gibson’s 1943 season average was better than his 1941 performance? If so, you don’t know who Williams was, you don’t know baseball, or the true meaning of fair play.