Dave Parker Passes Away Less Than One Month Before His Baseball Hall of Fame Induction

Dave Parker--two-time World Series champion (1979, 1989), 1978 NL MVP, and two-time NL batting champion (1977-78)--passed away on June 28, 2025, less than one month before he will be inducted in the Baseball Hall of Fame. He was one of baseball's elite players in the mid to late 1970s--with three top three finishes in the NL MVP race from 1975-78--and again in the mid 1980s, when he twice finished in the top five in NL MVP voting. 

Parker not only put up big individual numbers during his career, but he was a productive member of two World Series championship teams: the 1979 Pittsburgh Pirates (he led the team in regular season RBI with 94) and the 1989 Oakland A's (he led the team in regular season RBI with 97). In addition to winning the 1978 NL regular season MVP, Parker played at an MVP level in at least four other seasons. He oozed confidence and had the five tool game to back up his braggadocio. At the height of his powers, Parker declared, "If you want to know how good I am, ask me--I'll tell you." He led the NL at least once in hits (1977), doubles (1977, 1985), RBI (1985), batting average (1977-78), slugging percentage (1975, 1978), and outfield assists (1977), and he ranked in the top 10 in each of those categories multiple times.  

Any knowledgeable person who watched Parker play during his prime would have had no doubt that he would be a Hall of Famer, but he never received more than 25% of the votes during his 15 years on the Baseball Writers' Association of America (BBWAA) ballot, well short of the 75% required to become a Hall of Famer. Parker had to wait until the Classic Baseball Era Committee provided long overdue recognition late last year, 33 years after he retired. Any writer who did not understand that Parker is a Hall of Famer should give up his Hall of Fame voting privileges, and any writer who did not vote for Parker for personal reasons should also give up his Hall of Fame voting privileges. 

At least Parker lived long enough to know that he would be inducted in the Baseball Hall of Fame, but it is sad that he will not experience his moment in the sun to deliver a speech and bask in the glory that he should have received a long time ago. 

Dick Allen and Dave Parker Receive Long-Overdue Hall of Fame Recognition

A toxic combination of PED cheating destroying MLB's once-hallowed record book and "stat gurus" preaching "analytics" above all else (while cheating to win World Series titles because, apparently, the "analytics" did not provide a sufficient advantage) not only took much of the enjoyment out of baseball during the past 30 years or so, but also resulted in many great players not receiving deserved Hall of Fame recognition. In earlier eras, a 30 home run season meant something, and a 300 home run career signified a decade or more of top level power production; it is unfair to compare numbers from different eras when making Hall of Fame selections: if you dominated your era, then you earned Hall of Fame status--period.

I am so happy to learn that Dick Allen and Dave Parker, two of the most outstanding players of their respective eras, will be part of the Baseball Hall of Fame's 2025 class. The 16-member Classic Era Committee (formerly known as the Veterans Committee) righted two wrongs by finally selecting Allen and Parker. Allen received 13 votes, while Parker received 14, with 12 votes being the minimum threshold for selection. The Classic Era Committee consists of six Hall of Fame players (Paul Molitor, Eddie Murray, Tony Pérez, Ozzie Smith, Lee Smith, and Joe Torre), five former MLB executives (Sandy Alderson, Terry McGuirk, Dayton Moore, Arte Moreno and Brian Sabean), and five media members/historians (Bob Elliot, Leslie Heaphy, Steve Hirdt, Dick Kaegel and Larry Lester). The Classic Era Committee is tasked with recognizing players whose prime years happened prior to 1980.

Seven-time All-Star Dick Allen posted a .292 career batting average while blasting 351 homers and slugging 1119 RBI. He won the 1964 NL Rookie of the Year award for the Philadelphia Phillies after logging one of the greatest debut seasons in MLB history, leading the league in runs (125), triples (13), extra base hits (80), and total bases (352) while also ranking third in slugging percentage (.557), third in hits (201), fourth in doubles (38), and fifth in batting average (.318). He ranked seventh in home runs (29), and Allen hit at least 20 home runs in each of his first nine seasons, peaking at 40 in 1966 (ranking second in the NL), and cranking at least 30 in five of those seasons (and six times overall during his career). Allen finished seventh in 1964 NL MVP voting but, inexplicably, did not make the All-Star team.

In 1965, Allen earned the first of three consecutive All-Star selections while posting the second of four consecutive seasons during which he hit at least .300. Allen never topped his rookie season batting average, but he hit .300 or better in six of the 11 seasons during which he played in at least 118 games. Allen led the NL in slugging percentage in 1966 with a career-high .632, and that season he also led the NL in extra base hits (75).

After two productive but non All-Star seasons in 1968-69, the Phillies traded Allen to St. Louis, where he regained All-Star status in 1970 while pounding 34 home runs (tied for seventh in the NL) and notching the second of his three 100 RBI seasons (101).

The Cardinals traded Allen to the L.A. Dodgers prior to the 1971 season. He had a solid one year stint with the Dodgers (.295 batting average/23 home runs/90 RBI) before being traded to the Chicago White Sox. In his first White Sox season, Allen won the 1972 AL regular season MVP in a landslide, setting a franchise single season record (since broken) with 37 home runs while setting career highs in RBI (113) and BB (99); he led the AL in all three categories, and he also led the AL in OBP (career-high .420), extra base hits (70), and slugging percentage (.603). Injuries limited him to 82 games in 1973, but he still made the All-Star team, and he earned a third straight All-Star selection in 1974 while leading the AL in home runs (32) and slugging percentage (.563). After Allen left the team late in the 1974 season, the White Sox sold his contract to the Atlanta Braves, but he retired rather than go to Atlanta. He returned to the Phillies in 1975, and then finished his career in 1977 with the Oakland A's. 

Despite Allen's decade of sustained high level production--numbers that are even more impressive considering that he played during an era dominated by pitching--Allen never came close to getting in the Hall of Fame via the media voting, and he missed out in the Classic Era Committee balloting by just one vote in 2015 and 2022.

Some argue that "analytics" bolstered Allen's Hall of Fame candidacy in the most recent round of voting, but the fact is that even the often derided "counting stats" show Allen's brilliance: from 1964-74, he ranked second in MLB in slugging percentage, fifth in home runs (trailing only Hall of Famers Hank Aaron, Harmon Killebrew, Willie Stargell, and Willie McCovey), seventh in RBI, and seventh in runs scored.

There is no doubt that Allen suffered in Hall of Fame balloting because he clashed with various writers and front office executives during his career. He was outspoken, a quality that was not well-received from athletes during that era--and particularly so regarding Black athletes. It should be noted that the Philadelphia Phillies were the last NL team to have Black players on their roster, finally doing so in 1957--a full 10 years after Jackie Robinson broke MLB's color barrier. The toxic racial climate in Philadelphia specifically and in MLB as a whole is an undercurrent--and sometimes more than just an undercurrent--flowing through Allen's career. It is a shame that he passed away in 2020 without receiving his deserved Hall of Fame induction.

Willie Stargell summarized Allen's career and legacy: "Dick Allen played the game in the most conservative era in baseball history. It was a time of change and protest in the country, and baseball reacted against all that. They saw it as a threat to the game. The sportswriters were reactionary too. They didn't like seeing a man of such extraordinary skills doing it his way. It made them nervous. Dick Allen was ahead of his time. His views and way of doing things would go unnoticed today. If I had been manager of the Phillies back when he was playing, I would have found a way to make Dick Allen comfortable. I would have told him to blow off the writers. It was my observation that when Dick Allen was comfortable, balls left the park."

In a 2014 interview with USA Today, Hall of Fame pitcher Rich "Goose" Gossage gushed about his former teammate Allen: "I've been around the game a long time, and he's the greatest player I've ever seen play in my life. He had the most amazing season (1972) I've ever seen. He's the smartest baseball man I've ever been around in my life. He taught me how to pitch from a hitter's perspective, and taught me how to play the game right. There's no telling the numbers this guy could have put up if all he worried about was stats. The guy belongs in the Hall of Fame."

Allen's career ended when I was just five years old, so I don't remember seeing him play, and thus I don't have any personal recollections to add to this tribute--but anyone who studies baseball history understands Allen's impact and value, and thus knows that it is a travesty that he did not make it to the Hall of Fame until nearly 50 years after he retired.

I have vivid memories of Dave Parker, the 6-5, 230 superstar who could do it all. He was built like a tight end before steroids ran rampant through MLB, he was fast during his early years, and he used his powerful upper body to good effect both at the plate and in the outfield. I remember him starring for the Pittsburgh Pirates in the 1970s before joining the Cincinnati Reds, my favorite baseball team in the 1970s and 1980s when I followed baseball as a kid much more closely than I follow it now. Parker teamed up with Eric Davis in a dynamic outfield for the Reds for teams managed by Pete Rose that finished second in the N.L. West for three straight seasons (1985-87; the Reds also finished second in 1988, by which time Parker played for the Oakland A's). The "Cobra" was a sight to behold, and no one who saw Parker play doubted for a second that he was a Hall of Famer. Parker, like many players of that era, had a cocaine problem in the 1980s, and Hall of Fame voters seem to be more forgiving of some players than others regarding such issues.

Parker once declared, "I was a five tool player." As the saying goes, it's not bragging if you can back it up--and Parker backed it up during his career, particularly during the five season stretch from 1975-79. In Parker's first full MLB season, 1975, he led the NL in slugging percentage (.541), placed second in triples (10), ranked fifth in home runs (25) and RBI (101), and finished third in MVP voting. 

In 1976, Parker ranked third in triples (10), seventh in RBI (90), and eighth in batting average (.313), but he only hit 13 home runs. Parker showed surprising speed considering his size, stealing 19 bases, and he ranked fourth in outfield assists (12).

Parker won the NL batting title in 1977 (.338) and 1978 (.334) despite suffering a fractured jaw and cheekbone during the 1978 season. In 1977, Parker earned the first of five straight All-Star selections, and he captured the first of three straight Gold Glove awards while leading the NL in hits (215), doubles (44), and outfield assists (26). Parker ranked second in the NL in RBI (117), second in triples (12), and third in home runs (30) in 1978. He also stole 20 bases, and he won the NL regular season MVP.

He was an integral player for the Pirates' 1979 "We Are Family" World Series championship team, finishing seventh in the NL in batting average (.310) and eighth in RBI (94). Parker tied his career high with 20 stolen bases, and he ranked third in the NL in stolen base percentage (.833). Parker led the Pirates in RBI, ranked second on the team in batting average, home runs (25), and slugging percentage (.526), and ranked third on the team in stolen bases. Parker ranked fourth in the NL in outfield assists in 1979. Perhaps the most famous demonstration of Parker's bazooka arm happened in the 1979 All-Star Game, when he threw out a runner at third base and threw out another runner at home plate en route to winning the All-Star Game MVP in a 7-6 NL win. In the 1979 playoffs, Parker tied for second on the team in RBI (six) and he ranked third on the team in batting average (.341) as he captured the first of his two World Series titles while helping the Pirates win their first championship since 1971.

Parker made the All-Star team in 1980 and 1981, but he did not play at an MVP level during those seasons. Nevertheless, in 1981, baseball historians Donald Honig and Lawrence Ritter already ranked Parker among the 100 greatest baseball players of all-time. 

After Parker had subpar seasons in 1982 and 1983, he signed a free agent contract with the Cincinnati Reds prior to the 1984 season. Parker revived his career with his hometown team, averaging 27 home runs and 110 RBI during his four seasons with the Reds. In 1985, Parker led the NL in RBI (career-high 125) while ranking fifth in batting average (.312), his first .300 season since 1979. He ranked second in the NL in home runs in both 1985 (career-high 34) and 1986 (31). Parker earned All-Star selections in 1985 and 1986, finishing second in NL MVP voting in 1985 and fifth in 1986.

The Reds traded Parker to the Oakland A's after the 1987 season. Parker helped the A's to reach the World Series in 1988 and 1989, and he hit three home runs in the 1989 postseason as the A's won their first championship since 1974. In 1989, Parker led the team in RBI (97, ninth in the AL), ranked second in home runs (22), and finished 11th in AL regular season MVP voting, establishing himself as a premier designated hitter.

The 38 year old Parker signed with the Milwaukee Brewers as a free agent prior to the 1990 season, and in 1990 he earned his final All-Star selection, ranking seventh in the AL in RBI (92). Milwaukee traded Parker to the California Angels in 1991 but the Angels released him after he hit just .232 in 119 games. He ended his career in 1991 by playing 13 games with the Toronto Blue Jays.

Parker finished his career with 2712 hits, 339 home runs, a .290 batting average, 1493 RBI, 154 stolen bases, and 152 assists (including 136 as a right fielder, which still ranks 25th all-time). In addition to winning the 1978 NL regular season MVP, Parker finished in the top five in MVP voting four other times (1975, 1977, 1985-86), earned three Silver Slugger awards (NL outfielder in 1985-86, AL designated hitter in 1990), and was twice honored with the Edgar Martinez award as the best designated hitter (1989-90).

"Reggie": A Personal Portrait of One of the Greatest Clutch Baseball Players of All-Time

Reggie Jackson is one of my favorite athletes of all-time, and I will always remember being captivated as a young child by his three home runs off of three different pitchers in game six of the 1977 World Series. "Reggie," a documentary about Jackson's life that includes extensive interview footage with Jackson, premiered recently on Amazon Prime. I just watched the film, and it was great to see the story not only of Jackson's rise as a great baseball player but also how he overcame racism. Also, before watching "Reggie" I did not know that my favorite basketball player of all-time--Julius Erving--has long been close friends with one of my two favorite baseball players of all-time (Eric Davis is my other favorite baseball player).

Jackson bashed 563 home runs to rank sixth on MLB's career home run list when he retired, though he has now officially dropped out of the top 10 after his numbers were surpassed by PED cheaters. MLB ranks Jackson 14th now, but if you take out the PED-enhanced numbers posted by Barry Bonds, Alex Rodriguez, Sammy Sosa, Mark McGwire, and Rafael Palmeiro then Jackson ranks ninth; regarding the other three players who passed Jackson, Ken Griffey Jr. never had the body changes or numbers changes denoting PED usage, while Albert Pujols and Jim Thome are--according to what is publicly known and documented--the two greatest clean sluggers of the PED era.

Jackson played on five World Series championship teams (1972-74 with the Oakland A's, 1977-78 with the New York Yankees), capturing regular season MVP honors in 1973, and the World Series MVP in 1973 and 1977. That legendary three home run performance in 1977 cemented his reputation as "Mr. October," a nickname first given to Jackson not as a compliment but as a sarcastic remark by teammate Thurman Munson, who did not always see eye to eye with Jackson. Munson died in a 1979 plane crash. 

Near the beginning of the documentary, Jackson looks into the camera and says, "I have hesitation with this documentary because I don't have control of it." Despite his hesitation, Jackson welcomed the cameras to his home, and he set up a gorgeous shot with some of the classic cars from his legendary collection. He also let the viewer be privy to a phone conversation with Pete Rose, who needled Jackson that he is "shrinking," quipping that if Jackson gets any shorter he could ride horses as a jockey. Jackson laughed and admitted that he is only 5-10 now (Jackson was listed at 6-0 during his playing career).

Jackson talked with Hank Aaron about Aaron's pursuit of Babe Ruth's home run record. Aaron contrasted the invective directed at him by some people for breaking Ruth's record the praise that Pete Rose later received for breaking Ty Cobb's hits record. Aaron concluded, with a sad and weary look on his face, "Baseball has been backwards for a long time." 

Jackson recalled being drafted by the Kansas City A's and then being sent to play minor league baseball in Birmingham, Alabama, home to the infamous Bull Connor. It is chilling to see archival footage of Connor looking into the camera and stating that he may not be able to keep Birmingham segregated forever but that he will "die trying." In the South, Jackson's teammates had to bring food to him on the team bus because restaurants refused to serve Black patrons.

Jackson soon was promoted to the big leagues with the A's in 1967. The A's moved to Oakland in 1968. Jackson quickly became a big star, but he ran afoul of team owner Charlie Finley after requesting a raise. Jackson held out of spring training, and then was benched upon his return to the team. Jackson fumed at being relegated to a limited role, but when he got an opportunity to pinch hit he made the most of it: "I had to honor the guy in the mirror that I looked at, and really say that I got everything out of what I could do. That was my goal in the game: just go out there and do something, and you won't need to talk. I hadn't played, I hadn't had spring training, but this is what I do. I'm in charge here. Once I get out of here [the playing field], and you have control of me, I'm boxed up. But not here. He's got to throw the ball over here past me, and it ain't passing." Jackson chuckled at the end of that statement, and then he concluded the story: "I hit a home run to center field with the bases loaded, and it won the game for us. And when I got around to home plate, I saluted Charlie Finley like this" (in the documentary, Jackson mimicked the well-known one finger salute, without actually making the gesture on camera).

Jackson injured his leg stealing home in the deciding game of the 1972 American League Championship Series versus Detroit, and he was unable to play in that year's World Series. He will never forget Jackie Robinson being publicly honored during the 1972 World Series for the 25th anniversary of breaking MLB's color line. When Robinson spoke to the crowd, he mentioned how proud he would be when the day finally came that he would see a Black manager in MLB. That stuck with Jackson. Robinson died nine days later. In 1975, Frank Robinson (not related to Jackie Robinson) became MLB's first Black manager. 

Jackson mentioned that the most important thing for a pro athlete is to win championships--not one championship, but more than one, to prove that you can be consistently dominant. Jackson dominated in 1973, winning MVP honors in the regular season and the World Series. 

After showing highlights from that triumph, the documentary shifted to the current time, with Jackson visiting Julius Erving's home. Car aficionado Jackson looked with admiration at Erving's 1985 Rolls Royce, pointing to the car's distinctive hood ornament and asking Erving if he knows what it is called. Erving did not know, and Jackson said, "That's called the lady of ecstasy." Erving chuckled: "You know more about my car than I do."

Erving and Jackson asked members of the camera crew how old they were in 1985. Answers ranged from four and five to "I wasn't born yet."

It was a surprise and a treat to see Erving highlights in "Reggie." Jackson commented, "When someone says, 'You've got something in common with Dr. J,' you know what I say? That I'm bad!" Erving laughed, and with his typical modesty replied, "You know it's the other way around." Jackson insisted, "No way," and he tried to imitate Erving's famous reverse layup from the 1980 NBA Finals when Erving floated through the air from one side of the hoop to the other, holding the ball aloft over the out of bounds line, before flipping in a sensational shot like it was a routine move. Pro athletes do not tend to gush about other pro athletes--particularly other pro athletes who are from their generation--but I have noticed over the years that Erving is one of the few sports icons who turns even Hall of Famers into gushing little kids.

Erving is an eloquent speaker, and it brought tears to my eyes when he explained his heartfelt feelings about his friendship with Jackson: "The 70's was a good time. In my lifetime, I have had a few special relationships when somebody has extended the hand of friendship, and then after that it's like no strings attached. Maybe there is some divine intervention just saying that you should stay connected with this person, like a second family. I lost my brother and my sister in life, but I have a brother in you. I'm not a big baseball fan, but I'm a Reggie Jackson fan. So nobody can say anything bad about you." Erving paused for a beat, and jokingly added, "No matter how much cause you give them. They can't say nothing bad about you around me."

Erving and Jackson talked about role models who influenced them. Erving noted that Jackie Robinson had a "turn the other cheek" mentality, while Jim Brown represented a "get out of my face" attitude, so athletes had a choice to decide which path to take. Erving and Jackson both emphasized how much they respect Robinson, while also stating that they identified more with Brown's approach. 

Jackson's time with the A's ended after the 1975 season, when Finley refused to pay market value to keep his star-laden team together. Jackson found out that he had been traded to Baltimore by hearing the news on the radio. Erving, who led the New York Nets to two ABA titles in his three seasons with the team, was also traded by an owner (Roy Boe) who was unwilling or unable to pay market value (though Boe's hands were probably more tied than Finley's, as Boe had to pay various costs associated with the ABA-NBA merger, including an indemnification fee to the New York Knicks for being based in the same market).

Jackson played one season for Baltimore before signing with the New York Yankees. He wanted to wear number 42 in honor of Jackie Robinson, but that number was unavailable, so he chose to wear number 44 in honor of Hank Aaron.

To this day, Jackson says that he does not understand why he and Yankees Manager Billy Martin had such a contentious relationship. Jackson respected Martin's scrappy personality. However, Jackson also feels that race and racism impacted Martin's attitude toward him. Jackson believes that Martin initially refused to let him hit cleanup--his natural spot in the batting order--because Martin did not want a Black man to fill that role for the Yankees. Things came to a head when Martin felt that Jackson did not hustle to go after a ball in the outfield, and Martin pulled Jackson from the game in the middle of the inning, a humiliating move that Jackson did not accept blithely. The two men confronted each other in the dugout and had to be separated. Jackson noted that Black baseball players such as Bob Gibson, Hank Aaron, and Frank Robinson were wrongly depicted as angry when in reality they "are hurt. They are disappointed. They are searching for dignity."

Martin eventually put Jackson in the cleanup role. Not surprisingly, Jackson thrived, and the Yankees moved up in the standings, setting the stage for the team's dramatic 1977 run to the World Series title.

There are few images in pro sports as dramatic and dynamic as Reggie Jackson's home run swing. He seemed to corkscrew his legs into the ground as his powerfully muscled torso exploded into the ball and sent it on a one way trip out of the ballpark. Jackson poured every ounce of his mental, emotional, and physical energy into that swing, and the ball fled his bat as if it feared the power he had just unleashed.

Jackson believes that his biggest advantage was that around the 120 game mark of the season everyone else was tired but he was not. During his career, he clearly showed on more than one occasion that he possessed the ability to produce when it mattered the most. "Stat gurus" can insist that the hot hand does not exist and that elevated performance by some players in clutch situations is a myth, but if you have ever played competitive sports and took it seriously then you know better. Reggie Jackson epitomizes clutch play in a way that few athletes in any sport ever have. In team sports, a rare athlete like Reggie Jackson not only elevates his own play when it matters most, but his attitude, approach, and confident demeanor infuse his teammates with confidence. Of course, a player who lacks those traits can infect his teammates with doubt. 

Jackson will forever identify himself and be identified as a Yankee, even though he spent just five seasons with the Bronx Bombers. Yankees owner George Steinbrenner later lamented that letting Jackson leave was his biggest mistake. Jackson continued to be productive for several years after departing New York, but as he approached his 40th birthday he realized that mentally he was not quite where he once had been, and so he knew that it was time to retire.

After retiring, he worked for the Yankees as a special advisor for many years, but he yearned to become a team owner, and he still laments not receiving that opportunity. Jackson candidly admits that he was depressed for a while without even realizing it. Jackson, feeling that his opportunities with the Yankees were limited, joined the Houston Astros, and now serves as a special advisor for that franchise. His love for the game and his eagerness to pass down his knowledge to the current generation of players are palpable.

Bonus film clips accompanying the documentary include brief excerpts from separate conversations that Jackson had with Hank Aaron, Franco Harris, Rick Hendrick, and Bob Kendrick. Aaron, who passed away in 2021, recalled growing up in Mobile, Alabama, and how his mother would call him into the house to hide under the bed when she knew that the Ku Klux Klan was in town. Harris and Jackson talked about the honor and privilege of having your number retired. Hendrick recalled spending a whole day with Jackson at a ceremony when the legendary race car team owner was honored as the car dealer of the year. Jackson had tears in his eyes by the end of that day, and when Hendrick--who had never seen Jackson be that emotional--asked why, Jackson said that at the ceremony he did not see anyone who looked like him. Hendrick said that Jackson's comment made a deep impression on him; afterward, Hendrick developed a leadership academy to mentor people of color to find the individuals best qualified to work in his organization. Hendrick also provided Jackson with the opportunity to own a car dealership in Raleigh, North Carolina. Kendrick took Jackson on a tour of the Negro Leagues Museum, and discussed how the advocacy of Babe Ruth and Ted Williams helped Negro League players receive deserved recognition that they might otherwise have not received from the general baseball community (including the Baseball Hall of Fame).

During the documentary, Jackson admitted to wondering if he has done enough to help his community. It should be noted that Jackson's Mr. October Foundation has worked with thousands of children in underserved communities to provide STEM educational opportunities.