COOPERSTOWN, NY — I wouldn’t say that the National Baseball Hall of Fame’s newest exhibit featuring the 2004 world champs is the single biggest reason to head to the renowned Central NY hamlet sometime soon. But it’s as good a reason as any because it’s temporary, and perhaps, um, a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. Nonetheless, as a capper to the rest of the museum’s remarkable collection of historic artifacts, memorabilia, and exhibits, the Red Sox World Championship display — in a six-and-a-half-by-seven-foot display case on the third floor in the "Autumn Glory: A Postseason Celebration" section — is the highlight of a Red Sox baseball fan’s memorable pilgrimage to the baseball shrine.

Despite the fact that I was born in Cooperstown and make several trips annually to visit friends and family in the area, I hadn’t been to the Hall of Fame museum in many moons. It’s changed dramatically (for the better, I dare say) since I last set foot in the joint a dozen or so years ago. Gone are the linoleum floors, the bright lights, and the randomly arrayed display cases; in their place are darker-toned, carpeted mazes with carefully organized sections that will appeal to even the most particular of baseball aficionados.

Given that it’s the Baseball Hall of Fame and not just the MLB Hall of Fame, it’s appropriate that there are exhibits toasting Little League, Babe Ruth, American Legion, and NCAA champions, as well as an informative section on the women’s (or girls’, as they were called back then) baseball and softball leagues that sprouted during wartime in the 1940s. Even the knights of the keyboard and other media members get their own special section, with some of the legends of the broadcast booth profiled in sights and sounds.

You like your baseball movies, do ya? For cinema buffs, there’s a whole section dedicated to hardball on the silver screen, with props and uniforms from such classics as Bull Durham (Tim Robbins’s jersey), The Natural (Robert Redford’s wardrobe), A League of Their Own, Eight Men Out, and even the relatively obscure The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars & Motor Kings (a 1976 film about the Negro Leagues).

It is to the Hall’s credit that its exhibits do not avoid touchy subjects like the 1919 Black Sox scandal or the long-time exclusion of African-Americans from the majors. But it also knows what sells the tickets, and the presence of Babe Ruth is fairly ubiquitous throughout the museum — specifically in a second-floor special section on the Bambino (complete with a short, continuously spooling film with interviews). And knowing that plenty of children will undoubtedly be tagging along on their parents’ strolls down memory lane, the Hall of Fame has also created a kids’ room, with baseball books, interactive toys, and more film shorts from the national pastime (including Abbott and Costello’s memorable "Who’s on First" routine).

Other things that I found interesting: a small gallery of the winners from the Hall’s photography contest, with memorable shots from the shutterbugs prowling MLB’s sidelines (including a shot titled Roger’s Last Pitch — from Clemens’s seemingly "final" World-Series appearance against the Marlins in 2003. Last pitch? Har-de-har); a Sports Illustrated exhibit of the magazine’s covers featuring the game’s stars and characters; a baseball exhibit with one signed ball representing each of the majors’ no-hitters and perfect games (although balls from the most recent two — the Astros’ six-pitcher gem against the Yanks in June of 2003 and Randy Johnson’s perfecto from last May — are mysteriously absent); a display case of baseball’s year-end trophies, including the Cy Young, MVP, and Gold Glove hardware; and the World Series–ring display, which shows how the championship rings have evolved in design and size over the decades. The rings certainly became increasingly impressive as the years went by, but they were all reasonably sized (2" x 1.5") until the Marlins’ outrageously ostentatious bling from 2003, which is nearly double the size of any ring before it. Red Sox, take note: a return to the pre-2003 era would be prudent for your soon-to-be-awarded bands.

The Red Sox championship exhibit, kitty corner from the ring display, sits next to a continuously spooling "World Series Memorable Moments" film — so even as Sox fans bathe in the euphoria of their team’s recent accomplishments, they can’t avoid Vin Scully’s call of Mookie Wilson’s "little roller to first" from game six of the ’86 Series. Sufferin’ succotash.

Sox worshipers — and there were many in attendance in Cooperstown in full regalia the day I was there — would be wise to tune out the dirty dealings from Shea all those years ago and focus on the glass-encased evidence from last October. The latter includes Pedro Martinez’s hat from game three at Busch Stadium; Johnny Damon’s bat from his lead-off home run in game four; Manny Ramirez’s bat from that same game; Orlando Cabrera’s diminutive glove (a testament to his error-free play throughout the post-season); jerseys worn by David Ortiz and Derek Lowe; spikes worn by closer Keith Foulke, along with a container of dirt from the pitching mound from which Foulke completed the final out in game four; a loge ticket from that contest ($140 list); front pages of both the Boston Globe (YES!!!) and Herald (AMEN); a couple of placards (BELIEVE and 2004 WORLD CHAMPS); a World Series program; a carton (presumably empty) of Brigham’s "Reverse the Curse" ice cream; and, of course, the bloodied sanitary sock worn by Curt Schilling in his memorable game-six effort against the Yankees in the ALCS.

One more thing: for those who have seen the World Series trophy in person, the one being bandied about nationwide by the Red Sox brass is a weak sister to the one awarded prior to the Tiffany & Co.’s "re-design" of the commissioner’s trophy in 2000. The much-traveled Sox trophy is pretty Spartan compared to the ornate one that used to be presented. The older one (a pair of which are on display on the Hall’s third floor) has each team’s flag labeled (i.e., Detroit, Oakland, etc.) and bent as if fluttering in the breeze; there is also a gold baseball and a golden crown atop a ring within the circle of flags on the black-stone base. Simply put, it is stunningly beautiful, and if the Sox had one of those babies in their possession, they wouldn’t dare take it to the likes of the Winthrop Elks Initiation Ceremony and the East Dennis Fish & Game Club. Trust me on this: the new trophy is a fraud when compared to the spectacle of those currently on display at (gulp) Yankee HQ in the Bronx, and that doesn’t seem quite right.

If you do visit the Hall, obviously you’ll want to see the gallery of plaques of inductees, and that is the one room that hasn’t changed much over the years (aside from handsome expansion). And bring your camera; the Hall doesn’t forbid ’em, and fans on this day were endlessly clicking away with their camera phones.

The Red Sox championship exhibit is but one small aspect of the revamped Baseball Hall of Fame, so don’t wait until Boggsie gets in without a ticket this summer to make your next trip out to the shores of Lake Otsego. The Hall of Fame’s open every day, there’s plenty of parking, and your baseball experience will undoubtedly be of a deeply religious nature.

As I headed out via the gift shop, there was an unfortunate sign of the times. Not too much was "on sale" in the well-stocked store that day, but two lithographs of note were: action collages of Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa circa 1998, originally sold for $180, were marked down to just $90. Coincidence?

Bah. All that’s good about our grand game stands tall in Baseball’s Hall of Fame (alongside the wood statues of the Babe and Ted Williams that greet you in the lobby). Big Mac and Slammin’ Sammy may not be arriving in Cooperstown anytime soon, but you should plan your visit now — while the Red Sox are still on display for the right reasons.

"Sporting Eye" runs Mondays and Fridays at BostonPhoenix.com. Christopher Young can be reached at cyoung[a]phx.com