Great question. Why isn’t he?
With no legitimate answer, I always tell him, “You should have learned how to do a back flip when you ran to your position.”
That’s because shortstop Ozzie Smith did back flips on the field and he is in the Hall of Fame, despite inferior numbers to the Venezuelan-born Concepcion.
Concepcion’s slash-line is .267/.322/.357 with 101 home runs and 950 RBI. Smith’s slash-line is .262/.332/.328 with 28 home runs and 793 RBI. Concepcion twice won a Silver Slugger Award, emblematic of the top-hitting shortstop in the league.
Credit: Handout
Credit: Handout
And it is the same when Concepcion’s numbers are stacked next to Hall of Fame shortstops Phil Rizzuto and Pee Wee Reese — comparable and a tad better in several categories.
Concepcion produced 2,326 hits, just 14 fewer than fellow Reds shortstop — and Hall of Famer — Barry Larkin, both over 19-year careers.
And how about nine times on the All-Star team? How about the MVP award from the 1981 All-Star game when his two-run home run off Dennis Eckersley was the winning margin for the National League?
Was it defense? How about four Gold Gloves? Granted, Smith was flashy and photogenic, but Concepcion had a platinum glove. And he invented the one-hop throw to first base when he discovered the ball sped up once it hit the AstroTurf in Riverfront Stadium.
Most likely, it was his misfortune, as far as recognition, to just be a functional and important part of the Cincinnati Reds Great Eight, where he vied for recognition with Pete Rose, Joe Morgan, Johnny Bench and his best buddy, Tony Perez.
Credit: Handout
Credit: Handout
Talk about a losing proposition.
His full name is David Ismael Concepcion Benitez, but his teammates just called him Davey, except Pete Rose.
One day in Philadelphia, Concepcion boarded the team bus wearing a loud tan suit with dark brown checks and a brown velour tie.
“You look like Bozo the Clown,” said Rose. From that day forward Rose playfully addressed him as Bozo or Bozie.
Concepcion had his own playful demeanor. He was in an 0-for-15 slump in New York. Trying to wash that slump right out of his hair, before a game against the Mets, he stood in a running shower fully dressed in his game uniform.
He went 0-for-4. Then the team went to Chicago.
There was a huge industrial dryer at the rear of the Wrigley Field visitors clubhouse. On the first day Concepcion stripped naked and climbed into the dryer. Another stunt to shed a slump.
“I think he was trying to shrink his strike zone,” said pitcher Gary Nolan.
Rookie pitcher Pat Zachry walked by, saw Concepcion in the dryer and flipped the ‘on’ button. Concepcion could be seen on spin cycle rolling around and around through a large round window. He nearly singed all the hair off his body.
“Damn, I was more scared then Davey,” said Zachry after he and Pete Rose helped the spun-dry Concepcion out of the dryer.
Then the slightly scorched sanforized shortstop helped beat the Chicago Cubs with two doubles and a single.
Concepcion struggled mightily offensively two straight seasons. He hit .205 in 1971 and .209 in 1972. What to do, what to do? Manager Sparky Anderson thought he knew a solution. He went to Tony Perez and asked, “Will you room on the road with Concepcion?”
Done. Did it work? It worked wonders.
“He helped me in so many ways,” said Concepcion. “In our room he talked about hitting and he kept telling me, ‘Just swing the bat.’ Mostly, though, he helped my personality.”
“Before, when I didn’t hit, I always got down on myself,” he added. “After a while I learned from Tony because he always said, ‘Remember, tomorrow is another day.’ When I accepted this, everything changed.”
There was a time, too, when Concepcion went on a streak of errors before the Reds landed in Philadelphia. During batting practice, Phillies shortstop Larry Bowa yelled from his dugout, “Hey, Concepcion, what’s your first name, Elmer?”
“Why do you say that?” Concepcion asked.
“Because every time I see your name in a box score it says, ‘E-Concepcion.’”
Concepcion responded with three hits, a stolen base and, of all things, a sparkling defensive play on Bowa. After making it, he yelled to Bowa, “Yeah, I’m Elmer. Elmer’s Glue.”
Credit: File photo
Credit: File photo
And on the team bus he graduated from Bozo to Elmer.
He had his cantankerous side, too. At one point he was upset with something I wrote about him and said, “I’m not talking to you any more.”
So I ignored him, didn’t ask him any questions for nearly three weeks, but dutifully reported his positive deeds in my game stories.
After about three weeks of ignoring him, as I walked past his dressing cubicle, he said, “Hey, Mack-Koy, I’ll talk to you now.”
I said, “Fine, OK,” and kept walking. I let him stew for another week before approaching him. Sometimes you just have to send a message to these guys.
But Concepcion always was, and is, a class act and a Hall of Fame shortstop... at least, in my book.
While Concepcion is still peering through a window from the outside in Cooperstown, just as he peered from the inside of that industrial dryer, he has to wonder if he’ll ever get in without paying for a ticket.
Credit: David Jablonski
Credit: David Jablonski
In 2018, a Veterans Committee placed Detroit’s Alan Trammell into the Hall of Fame, the 18th shortstop elected. Trammell’s credentials sound strongly like those of Concepcion — six All-Star games, four Gold Gloves, three Silver Sluggers.
Concepcion missed this year’s Cincinnati reunion of The Great Eight because he is recovering from complications after a lung transplant, but is doing nicely.
He would do a lot better if the Hall of Fame committee found his phone number. Trammell’s statistics are not all that more impressive.
GREAT EIGHT AT 50
PREVIOUS COVERAGE
50 years ago, the Reds greatest lineup began making history
Remembering Pete Rose the legendary Hit King
Once an afterthought draft pick, Griffey, Sr. was integral part of Big Red Machine
Hall of Famer ‘Little Joe’ Morgan was a human dynamo
‘The Little General’ Johnny Bench was one of MLB’s all-time greats
‘Big Dog’ Tony Perez was a clutch hitter, crucial leader for the Big Red Machine
Great Eight at 50: Power-hitting George Foster set the Big Red Machine in motion
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