Remembering “The Cobra,” Dave Parker (1951-2025)

Last December, 33 years after he last played, Dave Parker was finally elected to the National Baseball Hall of Fame. The lefty-swinging, righty-throwing “Cobra” had once been regarded as the game’s best all-around player, a 6-foot-5, 230-pound slugger who could hit for power and average, had plenty of speed as well as a strong and accurate throwing arm, and exuded as much charisma and swagger as any player of his era. But injuries, cocaine use, and poor conditioning curtailed his prime, and while he rebounded to complete a lengthy and successful career, in 15 years on the writers’ ballots, he’d never drawn even one-third of the support needed for election. He hadn’t come close in three tries on Era Committee ballots, either, but buoyed by the positive attention he had generated while waging a very public battle with Parkinson’s Disease, and backed by a favorable mix of familiar faces on the Contemporary Baseball Era Committee, he finally gained entry to the Hall, alongside the late Dick Allen.

Unfortunately, Parker did not live to deliver the speech he said he’d been holding for 15 years. Just shy of one month from the day he was to be inducted into the Hall of Fame, he passed away at age 74 due to complications from Parkinson’s Disease, which he was diagnosed with in 2012.

Parker is the third Hall of Famer to die between election and induction. Eppa Rixey, a lefty who pitched in the National League from 1912 to ’33, was elected by the Veterans Committee on January 27, 1963. He died one month and one day later, at the age of 71. Leon Day, a righty who starred in the Negro Leagues from 1934 to ’46, and later played in Mexico and in the affiliated minor leagues, was elected by the Veterans Committee on March 7, 1995. He died six days later, at the age of 78.

In a 19-year career spent with the Pirates (1973–83), Reds (1984–87), A’s (1987–89), Brewers (1990), Angels and Blue Jays (both 1991), Parker hit .290/.339/.471 (121 OPS+) and amassed hefty career totals: 2,712 hits, 339 homers, and 154 steals. The peak of his career was during his first five full seasons (1975-79) with Pittsburgh, during which he collected a World Series ring, regular season and All-Star MVP awards, two batting titles, two league leads in slugging percentage, and three Gold Gloves. Amid that rise to superstardom, he emerged as brash and quick with a quip, sometimes in rhyme — a combination that drew comparisons to boxer Muhammad Ali. “When the leaves turn brown, I’ll be wearing the batting crown,” he predicted in mid-1978 (he won with a .334 mark).

“Take Willie Mays and Roberto Clemente and match their first five years up against mine, and they don’t compare with me,” he told Roy Blount Jr. in a 1979 Sports Illustrated cover story. Within that same piece, he added, “There’s only one thing bigger than me, and that’s my ego.”

Mentored by the likes of Willie Stargell and Dock Ellis, and adorned in the latest fashions from Black boutiques, replete with leather hats and platform shoes, Parker thrived on the 1970s Pirates, the era’s most heavily-integrated team in terms of Black and Latino players. In an iconic photo from 1976, taken in front of his locker in the Pirates clubhouse, he wore a Panama hat and a black t-shirt that referenced “Mothership Connection,” an anthem by the funk group Parliament: “If you hear any noise, it’s just me and the boys boppin.”

It's the story I've wanted to know for years: Where did the "If you hear any noise, it's just me and the boys boppin" tee come from? I talked to Dave Parker, Kent Tekulve, and Al Oliver to get to the bottom: https://t.co/hZsEdRooB6

— Michael Clair (@michaelsclair) March 17, 2021

“I thought that if my teammates saw me strut into the clubhouse, cool and confident, wearing a badass message, that there would be nothing to worry about,” Parker told author Dave Jordan, with whom he would collaborate for the acclaimed 2021 book, Cobra: A Life of Baseball and Brotherhood. “Because that’s the mindset you need to succeed at this level. So that’s where the T-shirt came from.”

At the tail end of that 1975–79 stretch, Parker became baseball’s first million-dollar-a-year player, but even with the Pirates’ success, his contract made him a target for fans’ hostility. Continued problems with his left knee, and a taste for the nightlife, compromised his play, and it wasn’t until he signed a free agent deal with his hometown Reds in December 1983 that his production began to recover. Soon playing alongside and under player/manager Pete Rose — one of his boyhood heroes — he made two more All-Star teams in Cincinnati before going on to help the A’s win the 1989 World Series, and then bouncing around the league as a sought-after designated hitter and mentor. As Stargell had done for him, Parker counseled younger players such as Eric Davis, Barry Larkin, and Gary Sheffield on the do’s and don’ts of stardom. “He probably had more impact on young players than any player I’ve ever been around,” said Davis, his teammate on the Reds.

David Gene Parker was born in Grenada, Mississippi on June 9, 1951, one of six children of Richard and Dannie Mae Parker. In 1956, the family moved to Cincinnati, where Richard worked as a shipping clerk in a foundry, while Dannie Mae worked as a maid; both parents had some raw athleticism. “My mother had a cannon for an arm, threw all sort of things at us – shoes, books, whatever – and usually connected,” Parker said in 2014. “My dad never got to play organized ball. But he’d crush that ball. He could have been something, if he’d gotten the chance. He hit cross-handed. And he could run like a scalded rabbit. He beat me in a footrace one day after work – in his work boots, carrying his lunch bucket.”

In Cincinnati, Parker grew up less than a block from Crosley Field, home of the Reds. He and his friends would sneak into games and cheer for stars such as Frank Robinson, Vada Pinson, and Rose. In one memorable scene recounted in Cobra, Robinson and Pinson happened upon Parker and friends, then in grade school, throwing rocks at each other for sport. “I don’t see a bat, and I don’t see a ball,” said Robinson when the kids claimed to be playing baseball. Opening the trunk of Robinson’s red Cadillac, the two Reds then bestowed a couple of bats and several gloves upon the kids.

At age 15, Parker began working as a vendor at Crosley Field, selling hot dogs and popcorn, and, circa 1968–69, dreamed of becoming the next Johnny Bench, as he was the starting catcher (and occasional pitcher) for Courier Tech High School’s team. He also starred in basketball and football, and was heavily recruited as a running back until he injured his left knee in the first game of his senior season. He tried to play through the injury but ended up undergoing multiple surgeries, and missed his senior season of baseball. Per Blount, it wasn’t his knee injury but concerns about his ability to hit the ball in the air and a history of clashing with coaches that let to his being chosen in the 14th round by the Pirates in 1970, instead of the first or second. It was a dreadful draft for the Pirates, in that just just one of their other 58 picks (catcher Ed Ott) eventually reached the majors. Even so, the team lowballed Parker into accepting a mere $6,000 for a bonus.

Between Parker’s knee problems and his size, the Pirates decided he had no future behind the plate and instead moved him to the outfield. Beginning in spring training 1971, the dawn of the fabled Pittsburgh Lumber Company, Parker picked up the finer points of the game from Clemente, Stargell, and coach (and later manager) Bill Virdon. According to Jordan, during spring training in 1972, Clemente watched Parker make throws to the catcher from center field, then turned to teammate Manny Sanguillen and said, “I’m looking at my replacement… I know a right fielder when I see one.”

Aside from a rough 30-game stint at Double-A Waterbury, where he started the 1971 season at age 19, Parker hit at every minor league stop, earning MVP honors both in the Gulf Coast League in ’70 and the Carolina League in ’72. He hit 22 homers and stole 38 bases in the latter year while batting .310/.350/.516.

Parker was lighting up the International League through the first half of the 1973 season when he got called up to replace outfielder Gene Clines, who had torn ligaments in his right ankle. Parker debuted in the majors on July 12, 1973, barely a month past his 22nd birthday, going 0-for-4 out of the leadoff spot against the Padres’ Clay Kirby. He spent the remainder of that season and all of the next one (during which he lost more than two months to a hamstring injury) in a platoon role, making just three starts against lefties. Deep in young outfielders, the Pirates moved Stargell to full-time first base duty in 1975, with incumbent right fielder Richie Zisk shifting to left, opening up the full-time right field job for Parker.

The results were revelatory. The 24-year-old Parker hit .308/.357/.541 with 25 homers and 101 RBI; his slugging percentage led the league, his 149 OPS+ ranked third, his 6.3 bWAR (including defense that was a league-best 15 runs above average according to Total Zone) fifth. The Pirates won the NL East for the second straight season, but bowed to the Reds in the NLCS as Parker went 0-for-10. After the season, he edged out both Bench and Rose to place third in the NL MVP voting behind Joe Morgan and Greg Luzinski.

Though he slipped to 13 homers and a .475 slugging percentage in 1976, Parker’s performance was still more than solid (133 OPS+, 3.7 WAR). He started 1977 so hot that he was hitting above .400 as late as May 14 (.408), and as high as .349 in early September; he finished at .338/.397/.531, beating out teammate Rennie Stennett for the NL batting title, ranking first in both hits (215) and doubles (44), third in WAR (7.4), fifth in OPS+ (145) and on-base percentage, and sixth in slugging percentage. He made his first All-Star team, won his first Gold Glove, and again finished third in the MVP voting, this time behind George Foster and Luzinski.

“The Cobra” — a nickname given to him by Pirates trainer Tony Bartirome — developed into such an intimidating hitter that opposing pitchers intentionally walked him a league-high 23 times in 1978. He had more help from Bartirome that season. In a home plate collision with Mets catcher (and former college football player) John Stearns on June 30, Parker was not only thrown out to end the game but suffered a fractured jaw and cheekbone, as well as a concussion, though he only realized the latter years later. “That was like the Pennsylvania Railroad colliding with the B&O,” said Pirates manager Chuck Tanner. When Parker returned to action on July 16, he was wearing a two-toned hockey goalie’s mask that Bartirome had customized, then with the help of the Steelers’ equipment manager — the two teams shared Three Rivers Stadium — switched to a football face mask, which he wore while running the bases. It set off a trend among similarly injured players, and scared the living hell out of Morgan, who threatened to sue if he sustained injury in the event of the two players colliding at second base.

Despite the injury, Parker hit .334/.394/.585 en route to another batting title and slugging percentage crown. He reached 30 homers for the first time, a total that ranked third in the league, and both his 166 OPS+ and 7.0 WAR led the circuit as well. In January 1979, just before he began what otherwise would have been his walk year, he signed a five-year contract that was widely reported to be worth at least $5 million, making him the game’s first million-dollar-a-year player, though the deal included something closer to $2.1 million in current salary and $5.3 million in deferred compensation, the payment of which the Pirates would later challenge.

Though his numbers fell off slightly in 1979 (.310/.380/.526, 141 OPS+, 25 homers), Parker enjoyed another exceptional season, ranking fourth in the NL with 6.7 WAR. He won All-Star Game MVP honors thanks to a game-tying sacrifice fly and two spectacular outfield assists in the late innings of the NL’s 7-6 win. In the seventh, with the AL leading 6-5, Parker lost track of a Jim Rice fly ball against the Kingdome roof, but recovered to throw a perfect one-hopper to Ron Cey at third base, cutting down Rice trying to stretch a double into a triple:

Then, with the score tied in the bottom of the eighth, Parker threw out Brian Downing trying to score from second on a Graig Nettles single, positioning his throw such that catcher Gary Carter just dropped his tag on Downing’s head like an anvil:

With Parker and Stargell (who would share MVP honors with Keith Hernandez) leading the way, the “We Are Family” Pirates won 98 games, then swept Morgan, Foster, and the Reds in the NLCS; Parker singled in the winning run in the 10th inning of Game 2. Though hampered by a late-season left knee injury that limited his ability to pull the ball, he went 10-for-29 in the World Series as the Pirates came back from a three-games-to-one deficit to beat the Orioles in seven games. Parker made a crucial catch of an Eddie Murray fly ball with the bases loaded in the eighth inning of Game 7. “He hit a line drive to me, a carrying line drive,” said Parker in 2014. “I broke to my glove side, slipped, and almost fell. I recovered and managed to catch it. If I don’t catch that ball, I’d have kept running right through the fence and on out into Baltimore somewhere.”

To this point, Parker was rightly regarded among the game’s elite. His 31.1 WAR from 1975-79 ranked fourth in the majors, trailing only Mike Schmidt (38.7), George Brett (35.0), and Rod Carew (31.9), while his 21.1 WAR from ’77-79 trailed only Schmidt (23.0) and Brett (21.6). But even with the batting title and the championship, Parker’s million-dollar status made him the target of criticism and even racist hate mail. Embittered, he skipped the World Series parade. “At the time I felt the fans weren’t there for me, so why should I’ve been there for them,” Parker told The Undefeated’s Branson Wright in 2018. “I didn’t feel I had to apologize for being successful, but it appeared that’s what some fans wanted me to do.”

Continued trouble with his left knee in 1980 caused Parker’s production to plummet to 17 homers, 79 RBI, a 115 OPS+, and just 1.6 WAR in 138 games. In September, the New York Times‘ Jane Gross wrote that he “looked like a lame horse on the base paths.” Fans at Three Rivers Stadium literally targeted him, throwing 9-volt batteries and other objects in his direction in right field. After a battery whizzed by his head during a July 20 contest, he removed himself from the game. “There have been five incidents in Pittsburgh where I could have been seriously hurt. If I’m going to get hurt, I’ll get hurt playing the game, not by someone who has a grudge,” he told reporters. He asked for a trade, though he later cooled down. Meanwhile, his common-law wife sued him for divorce.

After the 1980 season, Parker had surgery to remove torn cartilage in his left knee, but the injury bug kept biting. Achilles and thumb injuries as well as the players’ strike limited him to just 140 games, 15 homers, and 0.7 WAR in 1981–82, and his weight ballooned; some estimated it as high as 260 pounds, though Parker disputed that figure. He managed just 12 homers, a 97 OPS+ and 0.2 WAR in his 144 games in 1983, even with a .305/.331/.458 showing in the second half. In September, after he dodged another battery at Three Rivers, a UPI article reported that among the projectiles hurled at him since signing his contract were “a bat, a steel valve and a five-pound sack of nuts and bolts.”

A free agent after the season, Parker longed to go home. He shaved his trademark mustache and beard in a specific effort to appeal to the Reds, who had a policy against facial hair. The clean-cut image paid off, landing him a two-year deal at $800,000 per year — a pay cut, going by the perception of his million-dollar status. Remarkably, the team that had let Rose, Morgan, and Tony Perez depart when their contracts expired had never signed a major free agent before. While he only improved slightly in 1984, (104 OPS+, 1.0 WAR), his 94 RBI (up from 69 the year before) fed the perception of a stronger rebound, and the Reds inked him to a three-year, $3.325 million extension:

On the field, Parker’s 1985 was his best season after ’79 (34 homers, a league-high 125 RBI, .312/.365/.551 line, and 4.7 WAR); he made his fifth All-Star team (and first since ’81), won the first All-Star Game Home Run Derby, and finished second behind Willie McGee in the NL MVP voting. Off the field was a nightmare, however. Called to testify in the 1985 Pittsburgh drug trials, he admitted to having used cocaine as early as 1976 and “with consistency” from ’79 until late ’82, when he realized it had eroded his play. “I was going downhill,” he testified. Though he had been granted immunity from prosecution, he received a one-year suspension from commissioner Peter Ueberroth, waived on the condition that he submit to drug testing for the remainder of his career, perform 200 hours of community service, and contribute 10% of his salary to programs to combat drug abuse. The Pirates filed suit in an attempt to avoid paying him his deferred salary because his cocaine use “negatively affected his ability to perform.” In 1988, the two sides reached settlement for “a substantial lump sum” instead of deferred payments.

In retrospect, Parker said that his contract — which happened against a backdrop of steel mill closures that had hit the Pittsburgh area hard — was a burden. As he told The Undefeated, “Being the first [to make a million per year] and being a black guy didn’t make it that much easier, and some fans turning against me didn’t make me feel too good. And making that kind of money wasn’t a good fit for nobody involved. The fans weren’t having it, and I wasn’t having it from my end as well.”

Thankfully, by the time he was in Cincinnati, Parker had put his troubles behind him and was able to enjoy his elder statesman role while continuing his career. Though he hit 31 homers and drove in 116 runs while making another All-Star team in 1986, he declined from a 149 OPS+ to a 117, and went from +5 runs (via Total Zone) to -17; his WAR plummeted to 0.3. While he would reach 20 homers three more times and 90 RBI twice over his age 36-40 seasons — even making his seventh and final All-Star team in 1990 with a 21-homer, 92-RBI season as the Brewers’ full-time DH — the truly productive phase of his career was over. He did play for two pennant winners and one championship team while serving as the A’s DH in 1988–89, homering three times in the latter postseason, and was valued as a clubhouse leader and mentor. Even so, his 92 homers and 400 RBI for the Reds (1987), A’s, Brewers, Angels and Blue Jays (both ’91) during this stretch amounted to a combined OPS+ of 101 and a net of -0.7 WAR, with a high of 1.1 for Milwaukee. He totaled 40.7 WAR for his career, and ranks just 42nd in JAWS among right fielders, ahead of just three of the 30 enshrined: Ross Youngs, Tommy McCarthy, and Harold Baines.

Upon retiring, Parker opened Popeye’s fried chicken franchises in Cincinnati with his wife Kellye and played in a local 35-and-over baseball league (talk about a ringer!). He briefly went into coaching, serving as the first base coach for the 1997 Angels under Terry Collins and the ’98 Cardinals under Tony La Russa, as well as a special hitting instructor for the Pirates.

While the knee injuries that dated back to his high school days shouldn’t be discounted, it’s not hard to imagine that had Parker steered clear of cocaine and taken better care of himself, he might well have reached 3,000 hits and possibly 400 homers, numbers that would have made him an easy choice for the Hall of Fame. Instead, even with the increased visibility that came with his coaching jobs, BBWAA voters gave him a frosty reception. The belief that he’d squandered too much of his considerable talent, or that his drug usage was disqualifying, or that his personality was too outsized, may have factored for some writers, but it’s also true that the voters of the day were exceptionally stingy. The 1997 BBWAA ballot on which Parker debuted featured 10 future Hall of Fame players, including 300-game winners Phil Niekro and Don Sutton, Allen, Minnie Miñoso, and Ron Santo. Nonetheless, voters averaged just 5.32 candidates per ballot, the lowest mark in Hall history to that point, with Parker receiving just 17.5%; Niekro was elected on his fifth try, longer than it had taken for any 300-game winner from the live-ball era to that point. The next year, again on a ballot with 10 future Hall of Famers (including first-year candidates Carter and Bert Blyleven), Parker peaked at 24.5% while Sutton was elected on his fifth try. After that, Parker topped 20% just once, and barely stayed in double digits in some years during his 15-year run; meanwhile, Rice, a contemporary with more homers (382) but fewer hits and a less well-rounded game, was elected in 2009, his 15th year on the ballot.

Prior to 2025, Parker had struggled to make headway on a trio of Era Committee ballots that took place against the backdrop of his battle with Parkinson’s. On the 2014 Expansion Era and 2018 Modern Baseball ballots, he didn’t receive enough support to have his actual vote total announced; customarily, the Hall lumps together all of the candidates below a certain (varying) threshold as “receiving fewer than x” votes to avoid embarrassing them (or their descendants) with the news of a shutout. He gained a bit of momentum via the 2020 Modern Baseball ballot, receiving 43.8% of the vote, more than Steve Garvey (37.5%) but less than Dwight Evans (50%). With MLB Network’s sympathetic documentary The Cobra at Twilight, Jordan’s book, and annual fundraising for the Dave Parker 39 Foundation helping to raise Parker’s visibility and soften his image, the stars aligned last December. On a panel that included a pair of Hall of Famers who were former teammates (Perez from the Reds, Paul Molitor from the Brewers), as well as the general manager who acquired him for the A’s (Sandy Alderson), Parker received 14 out of 16 votes, with Allen, who had previously missed by a single vote twice, getting 13; both were elected, but for the latter, who passed away in December 2021, the honor was posthumous.

Particularly given the stark contrast to Allen’s fate, it was a relief to see Parker live long enough to be elected, and to see the expressions of joy both from him and from the fans who appreciated his iconic style and hard-won wisdom along with his considerable résumé. A committee may have elected Parker, but in the end, he felt like the people’s choice.