‘I’ve never been treated any better’
Sox legend Allen recalls his time on the South Side fondly
Waiting on a call fromtheHall of Fame isn’t on Dick Allen’s mind these days.
“No,” the former White Sox star said in a recent phone conversation. “It’s something I’ve never really given any thought to. Period.”
That might be true, but it has been onmy mind— and I’m sure his family and friends feel likewise— after theHall of Fame’s decision to cancel the scheduled vote of the Veterans Committee for the GoldenDays Era candidates.
TheCOVID-19 pandemic’s effect on the sportsworld is a story that has been played out on a daily basis, fromoutbreaks that postpone college football games to politicians pausing high school seasons.
You feel bad for the athletes and then you turn the page. There is only so much to say anymore, with the spread of the coronavirus rising across the country and the decisions to cancel or postpone events
becoming commonplace.
It’s a fact of life, and untilwe tame this pandemic it’s not likely to change. Still, the Hall of Fame’s decision is tougher to swallowbecause it affects an older group of men that might not have the time towait another year or more to find out whether they’ll receive the ultimate career honor: a spot in Cooperstown, N.Y.
The last time Allenwas a candidate, in
2014 on what thenwas called the Golden Era ballot, he and former MinnesotaTwins outfielderTony Oliva fell one vote shy in voting by the 16-memberVeterans Committee, which selected no one.
Late White Sox outfielder Minnie Minosowound up four votes shy, and others on the ballot, including Sox pitcher Billy Pierce, Twins pitcher JimKaat and Boston Red Sox pitcher Luis Tiant, werewell behind. Sox Chairman Jerry Reinsdorf said at the time that hewas disappointed Minoso and Pierce didn’t get in because “they clearly deserved” to make it.
But when I asked him about Allen coming so close, he replied: “Dick Allen had kind of a checkered career. If I had been on the committee Iwouldn’t have voted for him. He only really had six really good years.… But when hewas with the White Sox he certainly hadHall of Fame years.”
Everyone is entitled to an opinion, and though I disagreed with Reinsdorf, Iwas certain the 78-yearold Allenwould get another shot this time. After the Philadelphia Phillies retired his number in September, it seemed as if the tide had turned and Allenwas starting to get the recognition he deserved.
But theHall decided itwasn’t safe to have in-person meetings to choose candidates because of the pandemic, even though voting is underway for the 2021Hall of Fame, the Ford FrickAward for broadcasters and the Spink Award for sports writers. I asked aHall spokesmanwhy it couldn’t have conducted aVeterans Committee meeting via teleconference.
“Given the open yet confidential discussion necessary to effectively evaluate each of the candidates during the daylong committee process, our board of directors maintains it to be critical that these committees meet in person,” he said via email. “The most productive way to facilitate the hourslong conversations necessary to ensure the integrity of this process is to have committee members together in one room, face-to-face, speaking honestly and directly to one another.
“During recentmonths, most of us have utilized some form of communication technology to facilitate meetings both at a personal and professional level. While these video conversations provide certain benefits, we continue to feel that they are not ideal for our era committee meetings— norwould be any change to this important process that could compromise its integrity.”
Whether Allenwould have been on the ballot again is uncertain, but youwould have to think so, based on his close call in 2014 and his career numbers. Jay Jaffe, who created the JAWS measurement that compares players with those already in theHall, told TheAthletic that Allen’s careerwas obviouslyHall of Fame-worthy.
“This is a terrific player who is way better than a lot of guys who are in theHall of Fame,” Jaffe said. “And that, ultimately to me, is what throws it in that direction. There’s so many guys who could not carry his jock who are in theHall of Fame. Why arewe rewarding some guys fromthe 1920s who had a good decade in a high-offense environment that doesn’t stand up to scrutiny while we’ re holding a similarly ‘short’ career against Dick Allen in some of the most turbulent times in baseball history?
“Just the different times really created some of the conditions that thwarted his career.”
Many of Allen’s peers, including WillieMays, have said the same thing: It’s time to give Dick Allen his due. Iwatched Cubs great Ron Santo go through repeated disappointments during hisHall of Fame quest.
He finally made it after he died, too late to enjoy the honor. Allen hasn’t made theHall his life goal and in truth didn’t campaign for himself whenwe spoke.
“I never really cared about it,” he said. “When you’re a kid and you’re playing ball around the house, you’re not playing ball because you’re thinking of theHall of Fame. You’re thinking of making it to the major leagues. The big leagues. First things first. I really don’t get it. To me, that’s all (up to) the voting. After all is said and done, it’s what people thought of you after you leave. And after I left, itwas only what the sports writers thought of me, not what people thought of me.”
Some sports writers labeled Allen as troublesome early in his career in Philadelphia, which led to Phillies fans booing him and the famous moment when he wrote “BOO” in the dirt near first base. It really wasn’t until he came to Chicago in 1972 that Allenwas treated with respect by fans and the media alike.
The stories of hisMVPseason in 1972 became legend, like the time hewaswalking outside Comiskey Park under a 35th Street viaduct to get a couple of hot dogs while still in his uniform.
“I don’t knowabout ‘in uniform,’” he said with a laugh. “But I know the fanswere that friendly, so you could actuallywalk where you wanted to and not be bothered. They didn’t rag on you, rag on you, rag on you.”
Allen almost single-handedly revived the Sox franchise and provided fans with one of the enduring moments in team history— the so-called “Chili Dog game” against theNewYork Yankees on June 4, 1972, when he came off the bench in the ninth inning in Game 2 of a doubleheader and hit awalk-off three-run home run off closer Sparky Lyle.
Allenwas eating a chili dog in the clubhouse when manager Chuck Tanner sent in a clubbie to get him.
“All of a sudden, he’s got sauce all over his chest, he throws on a new shirt and comes out and wins the game,” former teammate Bill Melton said in a phone interview.
Allen came out of the dugout to massive applause fromthe remnants of a sellout crowd of 51,904, the biggest at Comiskey since 1954. He had spilled some chili on his shirt, but put on a new jersey and came out of the dugout to massive applause.
“(Teammate) Mike Andrews says to Sparky, ‘Hey, you’re in some deep (bleep) now,” Allen recalled of the moment he stepped up. “And just after he said it, gazinga! Hewas in some deep (bleep). After that, the (chili dog) storywent around and it still goes around.”
According to theNewYork Times’ account of the game, the home run “touched off a wild scene among the White Sox players, who mobbed Allen at the plate as if it were a victory in the seventh game of theWorld Series.”
Sowas it all true? Did he really spill the chili dog on himself?
“Most of it’s true,” he said, laughing.
Melton, who stays in touch with Allen, said “everything Dick didwas amazing,” and much of his greatness fans didn’t even get a chance to see.
“He never took batting practice, as everyone knows, but then one day he comes out and starts hitting left-handed home runs,” Melton said. Hewas reinvigorated, coming to Chicago and playing underTanner. Hewas going to quit, said he hated the game. But everything changed, andwe all loved him. He was a great teammate, and the sports writers in Chicago liked him, too, JeromeHoltzman and Bill Gleason and all the rest.
“He didn’t say much to them unless hewas asked a question because he didn’twant any publicity. Then they’d ask him something and he’d say: ‘Were you at the game?’ Players today, they allwant the exposure on social media. He wouldn’t have survived today. No waywould Dick Allen be on a cellphone in the clubhouse.”
Allen spent only three seasons in Chicago butwas so beloved here that organistNancy Faust played “Jesus Christ Superstar” when he came to the plate. He even hosted his ownTVshow, which he said he would love to rewatch if he only had some of the old videotapes.
Chicago is still in his heart after all these years.
“I think about the White Sox fans all the time,” he said. “Not only the Sox fans, both sides, North and South Side, because they really drawa lot of fans there.”
Hopefully Allen will be invited back to the South Side when it’s safe to attend games. Allen said the Phillies’ decision to fete him last summer, even in an empty stadium, was the “cherry” on his career.
“Itwas an honor, but I didn’t realize it until I had gotten home,” he said. “A month or sowent by, and I got up and looked out the window, and golly, itwas like a little cherry in a bottle. I thought about me alone for one time, because I never really do. I always thought of others beforemyself. When I start thinking aboutmyself, usually the thoughts that come overmymind are ‘How selfish?’ But that one little cherry, jeez… unbelievable.”
The Sox have honored Allen before, though there are few reminders around the ballpark of his cometlike career in a Sox uniform.
It doesn’tmatter to Allen. He said he’ll always feel like a part of the Sox and indebted to Sox fans for treating him sowell.
“My gosh, yes,” he said. “It’s better than anywhere I’ve beenmy whole baseball career. I might say my whole baseball life. I’ve never been treated any better. You guys are the best formy money.”