The
National Baseball Hall of Fame already made one mistake
by not inducting Buck O'Neil into its sacred hall, and
it shouldn't repeat the error with Buzzie Bavasi, Gil
Hodges and Ron Santo.
The Hall of Fame's
84-member Veterans Committee will vote on two ballots,
one a player's ballot and another called a composite
ballot for those who contributed to the game other than
as a ballplayer.
Bavasi and 14
others make up the composite ballot where the biggest
names are union head Marvin Miller, manager Billy Martin
and Dodgers owner Walter O'Malley. Umpire Doug Harvey,
a San Diegan, is also on the list.
Santo and Hodges are part of a group of 27 former players
up for consideration. Some of the other men on this
list that have been passed over are Tony Oliva, Minnie
Minoso, Maury Willis and Roger Maris.
Results will
be announced Feb. 27.
If I had my way,
and I don't, they would all be in, thus avoiding another
Buck O'Neil fiasco.
The Hall of Fame
looks ridiculous in the handling of O'Neil, who passed
away last Friday at the age of 94.
Back in February,
a special committee voted on adding Negro League and
pre-Negro League figures into the Hall. Seventeen were
selected, and O'Neil missed by one vote.
O'Neil, the first
black coach in the majors (with the Cubs in 1962) made
all of us aware of the Negro League's heritage, with
the Ken Burns television series "Baseball,"
and as a roving ambassador for the game.
Bavasi, a La
Jolla resident who will turn 92 in December, is much
like O'Neil. He has had a tremendous impact on the game
that goes far beyond winning championships.
He started his
career in 1939 and a year later was the business manager
for one of the Dodgers' Class D teams in Georgia. He
ended up being the general manager for the Brooklyn
and Los Angeles Dodgers (1951-67) and president and
part-owner of the Padres from 1968-1977.
Under his guidance
the Dodgers won eight National League pennants and four
world titles in 17 years.
San Diego fans
should be clear out one truth: Without Bavasi there
would not be major-league baseball here.
When he headed
up an expansion franchise along with financier C. Arnholt
Smith, the group had instant credibility with the owners.
Just think of
that void if Bavasi hadn't brought baseball to San Diego.
No Tony Gwynn. No Trevor Hoffman. No "Mission Valley
Miracle" in 1984.
But that was
just one of his contributions. When Branch Rickey broke
the color barrier by signing Jackie Robinson, Bavasi
was right by his side.
Don Newcombe
and Roy Campanella credit Bavasi for advancing their
careers.
Newcombe and
Campanella became the first black battery in the white
world of organized baseball playing for the Nashua (N.H.)
Dodgers in '47. Their general manager was Bavasi.
Campanella and
Newcombe were under strict orders never to retaliate
against bigots. As you can imagine, they heard every
racial slur in the redneck dictionary.
But that rule
didn't apply to Bavasi. One night, after a particularly
tough game where the opposing team's manager was encouraging
the brutish dialogue, Bavasi called him out. Standing
in front of the opposing team's bus, Bavasi called to
the manager, "Why don't you say to me right now
what you said to them and I'll kick your ass. Go ahead
and say that to me."
I've heard Bavasi
tell that story many times, and he still gets emotional
about it.
Bavasi and Duke
Snider also get pretty passionate in discussing the
omission of Gil Hodges in the Hall of Fame.
"I think
Gil has been overlooked, and I wish my member friends
would take a look at him," Snider said of his Brooklyn
teammate who later went on to guide the Miracle Mets
as a manager in 1969.
The voters should
elect Santo (1960-1974), a nine-time all-star and a
five-time Gold Glove winner who was the first third
baseman to hit 300 career homers.
