THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, August 3, 1995 TAG: 9508030025
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A14 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Editorial
LENGTH: Short : 46 lines
The Baseball Hall of Fame induction rite is customarily the national pastime's best two hours or so: emotion, humor, nostalgia - pure joy for longtime fans and their special heroes.
Legends already in the inner playing circle return each year. This past Sunday at Cooperstown, N.Y., true fans could get goose bumps just listening to the introductions: Bob Feller and Reggie Jackson and Stan Musial and Phil Rizzuto and Juan Marichal and Peewee Reese and Johnny Bench and. . . .
The list went on, triggering images of pitching, hitting and fielding feats and the rich lore of the game these fans cherish. A game that never was, maybe, but by today's standards, one that wears well just the same.
An exceptional 1994 season ended prematurely because of a labor dispute, both playoffs and World Series canceled; 1995 opened late and without a settlement; ugly incidents have occurred between ballplayers and fans in recent weeks; attendance is down in the ballparks and even at the Hall.
So, entering the sanctuary of immortals Sunday, Richie Ashburn, a 1950 Philadelphia Phillies' Whiz Kid who retired 33 years ago, said: ``Let's get this mess straightened out. We're here without an agreement between players and owners. We're here without a commissioner. I can't believe this.''
And Mike Schmidt, the Phillies' good-field, great-hit third baseman who retired in 1989 and was elected the first year he was eligible, told the crowd: ``Take a look at the empty seats in ballparks and the empty ball fields in playgrounds. It concerns me, and for those in baseball, it should scare you.''
Schmidt also argued passionately for admission to the Hall of Fame of Pete Rose, a former teammate now banned from baseball and hence ineligible. Rose was much on the minds of fans, including about 50 busloads from Philadelphia. They'd already been chanting ``We want Pete!'' so Schmidt's plea won an approving roar. But the 30 old Hall of Famers remained silent, stonily.
And so discordant notes kept spoiling the reminiscence that's an old-timer's tonic. One Philadelphia fan, Andrew DeLeo, said: ``It's not the same as when I grew up.''
DeLeo is 26. by CNB