Cincinnati Kid: Dave Parker

The retired Reds slugger on hitting home runs, Hall of Fame voters, getting even with Marge Schott, and why he’d still have no problem pouncing on major league pitching.
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Photograph by Jonathan Willis

Editor’s Note: This story was originally published in 2007. Dave Parker was finally elected into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 2024.

This month Major League baseball enshrines its newest crop of Hall of Fame inductees. And for the 11th straight year, the lineup won’t include Dave Parker. Is that an injustice? To the six-foot-five-inch “Cobra,” a 1978 National League MVP, two-time World Series champion (with Pittsburgh in 1979 and Oakland in 1989), and seven-time All-Star, whose résumé includes 2,712 hits, 339 home runs, and 1,493 RBIs, it sure seems that way.

Parker, a resident of Loveland since his days with the Reds in the 1980s, has no qualms about voicing his displeasure about being passed over. We caught up with the Cumminsville-raised power hitter to talk about his beef with Cooperstown, lazy sportswriters, his aversion to cleaning Frialators, and why he thinks the Queen City can become a baseball town again.


Let’s begin by talking about what you’re doing now. You own two Popeyes franchises, but the fast-food industry isn’t for everyone. I’m curious what you like about this kind of work.
Well, for one, working with the youth, teaching them a good work ethic. That’s almost extinct today. I take a lot of pride in working with them. It’s a little bit like being on a baseball team because if you’ve got everybody running their job, the store runs perfect.

I’ve read that you’re not afraid to work in the kitchen. Why are you so hands-on?
I enjoy being around people, and doing this you develop relationships—you become a part of the family. If I ever sell it I’ll probably feel real bad that I don’t have those relationships anymore.

Any part of the job you don’t like?
I’ll cook all day, but I really don’t like cleaning the fryers. You’ve got to get all the crumbs out, then you’ve got to flush out the old shortening and add the new shortening. It’s kind of tedious.

What does your staff say when you go back there to help them?
I’m in the way. Especially when I’m packing on the front line because with a big body, there’s only so much room.

Of course, you’re not completely out of baseball. You’ve had some full-time coaching assignments in the past, and right now you’re back with your old club, the Pittsburgh Pirates, as a part-time hitting consultant. Do you have any desire to jump back into the game on a more regular basis?
I would do it full-time if I could do it here. I gave [the Reds] my resume last year and never really heard from them. I tell you what, [Adam] Dunn could use me right now because I teach two-strike hitting. We’d definitely cut down on his strikeouts and increase his RBI production.

As a kid growing up in Cincinnati, did you have designs on playing for your hometown team?
I always wanted to play for the Reds, but they passed on me in the draft and Pittsburgh got me in the 14th round. Actually, I did work out for the Reds when I was in the 10th grade. It was at Crosley Field. I’m hitting home runs and I had good footspeed. When I was done, a couple of the Reds scouts came over and said, “Hey son, don’t go anywhere. We want to try and sign you.” I said, “You can’t sign me. I’m in the 10th grade.” [Laughs] I was six-food-four, 220 [pounds].

Can you explain your beef with the Hall of Fame? You haven’t exactly hidden your disdain for not being enshrined in Cooperstown. So, I’m giving you the mic for a second. Tell me why you think you should be inducted.
For one, I was the best player in baseball for five years, from ’75 to ’80. The media said that, I didn’t. Every team I played on was pretty much a winning ball club and I was the most important player on every team I played for. Even when I was with [Mark] McGwire and [Jose] Canseco in [in Oakland], I hit fourth. I was right in the heart of that lineup. My peers know that I was probably the most dominant player of my era. That’s been written, proven, the whole ball of wax.

Then what’s preventing you from getting in?
For whatever reason, the Hall of Fame now is not about stats, it’s a popularity contest. I know I was involved in that Pittsburgh drug trial, but hell, [Dennis] Eckersley and [Paul] Molitor had problems, so don’t give me that excuse. The system sucks. How can a writer evaluate what it takes to compile the numbers I have or any Hall of Famer has? What it’s like to go out there on a sore knee. What it’s like to go out there and pitch with a sore arm. You’ve got to experience to know.

Looking at recent inductees, who in particular gets you steamed when you think they’re in Cooperstown and you’re not?
Anybody. [Chicago Cubs outfielder] Billy Williams, whose numbers are a lot like mine. Cal Ripken showed up a lot but you got to think in terms of the quality of work that you produce when you show up. Look at [catcher] Gary Carter. My numbers are far better than his. I played in four World Series. I think he played in one. Well, they say, we evaluate catchers differently. How can you do that? I was signed as a catcher, do I get brownie points because I played for 15 or 16 years in the outfield?

So on that day in January when the inductees are announced, are you glued to the television waiting to hear if you’ve gotten in?
No. I’ve got too much going on in my life. My youngest daughter is in college. I’ve got businesses and relationships with my employees. I’m healthy, thank God. Life goes on.

Are you optimistic that you’ll get in?
My only concern is getting in while I’m still vertical. It won’t mean a damn thing to get in while I’m dead, to me or my family. While I’m here I’d like for it to be done, and done soon.

Is the sting of not making Cooperstown alleviated any by the fact that one sports blogger inducted you into his “Facial Hair Hall of Fame”?
I can’t help it because I’m good looking. Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful!

You had some big years in Pittsburgh. But things dipped in the early 1980s, and you ended up signing as a free agent with Cincinnati, where you were able to resurrect your career/ Your problems with Pete Rose, who was both your manager and teammate at the time, were well documented. Have you guys made up?
Pete and I are the best of friends now. He just wanted all the glory. I was having tremendous years and he was approaching the hit title and I was his biggest asset. And then he traded me, and to justify it to the people he tried to say that I had negative leadership. In the end it worked out for everyone. I ended up getting [Jose] Rijo and I went to Oakland and played in two World Series, back-to-back.

But then you left Oakland and missed out on played against Cincinnati in the 1990 World Series, which the Reds easily won. If you had still been on the A’s, would the outcome have been any different?
I would have beat them single-handedly. There was that time [Red owner] Marge Schott has dropped that million dollar n-word about me and Eric Davis as we walked across the field. I didn’t hear her –if I had, I probably would have smacked her. But I swear, if I had been in Oakland in ’90 with her being the owner of the team, I would have single handedly seen to it that Cincinnati did not win. She was an unusual lady.

A big deal was made when you became one of the game’s first players to earn a million dollars a year. That’s chump change these days. When you look at what someone like Alex Rodriguez is making, is there any regret that you missed out on those big paydays?
I helped make those paydays happen. I helped revolutionize the salaries in that regard. These guys who are getting that tremendous money, I just tip my hat to them and say, whatever the market can bear.

I guess that begs the question of what kind of salary the Cobra would have commanded in today’s market as a free agent?
What’s A-Rod making? $25 million a year? I’d be making $35 million. If I had to hit off some of the pitching they have today, what kind of numbers would I have? If I had to play in these small stadiums, what kind of numbers would I have?

The huge increase in salaries isn’t the only thing that’s changed in baseball since you retired. Right now the sport is embroiled in a white-hot-steroid scandal. What do you make of the situation?
Steroids make you stronger, but you still got to hit it. It’s still that hand-eye thing, where you have to put the ball in play. The key figures are McGwire and they’re talking about Barry Bonds, but after that it’s not that significant. In situations like this they target the biggest talents, the biggest names. The emphasis will be put on those guys and nobody really else.

It’s likely Bonds will surpass Hank Aaron this summer for most career home runs. When he does, will you be applauding him?
You’ve got to applaud him. He’s going to go down as the best player of all time. This boy was getting, like, one or two pitches a week to hit and he wasn’t missing them. When he hit those 73 home runs, he was crushing them. And you know, they’ve tested him and they don’t have nothing on him.

Strangely though, I wonder if this scandal has made fans appreciate what you produced in the 1970s and ‘80s, when hitting 40 home runs was a big deal.
I think we played in the best times. The competition was at its best. We had fewer teams. The talent wasn’t diluted. I hear it all the time: You guys played when baseball was baseball. As far as it dwarfing what we’ve done, some of these guys that are now big talents today, they wouldn’t have even made that ’78 Pittsburgh team I was on. Back then you’d go face a team with a pitching staff that had three or four stars. Now, you’d be lucky to face one.

What about your hometown? You played here; you know what this city is like when its baseball team wins. What do you say to those who claim this isn’t a baseball town anymore?
They have to put a winning product out there and the only way you can do that is open up the purse strings. I do think the current ownership is headed in that direction. With small-market teams the only way they can compete right now is developing players through their farm system.

Put on your general manager’s cap for a second and tell me what you would do to make the Reds a contender if you were calling the shots.
I wouldn’t have taken Griffey out of center field. At this point in his career he should be playing a position that he’s very comfortable with. And the seniority that he carries, he shouldn’t be asked to move anyway. He’s still the best center fielder around. But I would put a major emphasis on pitching. I would find me a bona-fide stopper and work from there becase right now they have a good offensive attack.

You look like you’re still in pretty good shape. Would you ever consider a comeback?
No. [laughs] I can hit, I can still throw, but I can’t run. But I tell you what, I see these guys on TV taking a fastball down the middle of the plate, and it’s tempting.

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