President William Howard Taft and his wife, Helen, attended the first game of the Washington Senators’ 1910 season. (Getty Images)

Before the season started, the Washington Nationals announced they would spice up the fourth-inning Racing Presidents sideshow by finally adding a fifth cast member. And, so, the mascot version of William Howard Taft, the United States’ 26th president, was introduced.

Well, with the season underway, not everyone is terribly pleased. In a column last weekend, The Washington Post’s Robert McCartney wrote that Taft was undeserving of the high honor of being transformed into a cartoonish mascot to be trotted around a Major League Baseball warning track:

C’mon, William Howard Taft? If you’re going to honor a former commander in chief by creating a 12-foot foam puppet in his image, then surely you could pick someone more impressive.

In history’s standings, Taft is 20 games out of first place.

Look, we have our own qualms with the Taft mascot. Namely, that compared to the real Taft, who tipped the presidential scales at more than 300 pounds, the Racing President turned out to be quite skinny. (Thus robbing the world of the brilliant slogan “Fatitude.”)

But Taft’s descendants aren’t having McCartney’s noise. John Taft, the president’s great-grandson, told WTOP that McCartney’s column was a “low blow.” William Howard Taft’s legacy as president might not be as haughty as the four who grace Mount Rushmore (and are the original Racing Presidents), but John Taft reminds that his ancestor was plenty accomplished:

“Not to get too serious about it, but this is something people should realize. Not only was he the only person in the history of the United States to serve as President and Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. Think about that. He also served as Governor General of the Philippines and set the Philippines on a course towards democratic statehood and was Secretary of War,” Taft says.

To say nothing of the fact that Taft was the first president to throw out a ceremonial first pitch, which he did in 1910 before the Washington Senators’ first game of the season. McCartney notes that, but maybe he’s still grousing about the fact that the Senators went 66-85 that year, good for second-worst in the American League.