Mark Madden: Pirates great Dave Parker is one of Hall of Fame's many absurd absences

It’s so much more fun to talk about the Pirates as they used to be.

I went to Wednesday’s game against Detroit. (I had Club Cambria tickets. I always go first-class.) The announced attendance was 8,382.

But I’d bet there weren’t more than 2,000 people in the stands.

There were entire sections of seats absolutely empty. It was a depressing backdrop for a rotten game between two stinky teams.

If you were a kid in attendance and didn’t get a foul ball, you’re lazy and unmotivated (not unlike Gregory Polanco). Some balls sat loose under a seat for 10-15 seconds.

My baseball highlight for the day occurred earlier on my radio program. I got to interview Dave Parker. “The Cobra.” The ex-Pirates right fielder is a total legend, now as then.

Parker on beating Baltimore in the 1979 World Series after trailing three games to one: “During introductions (for Game 5, the Orioles’) Pat Kelly came out to the sideline and he got to dancing a little. I didn’t like that. The seventh game came around, we won…I tried to get Pat Kelly on the phone (to say), ‘Let me see you dance now, mother.’ ”

Parker censored himself. Back then, I’m sure he didn’t.

It’s a clichéd question, but how is Parker not in the Baseball Hall of Fame?

Parker was National League MVP in 1978 and was top three in MVP voting three other times. He was a two-time batting champ. He won three Gold Gloves and had a gun for an arm. His career slash line is .290/.339/.471. He had 2,712 hits, 339 home runs and 1,493 runs batted in.

Parker also had big moments.

He was 1979 All-Star Game MVP, throwing out a runner at home and another at third.

He hit .333 in the 1979 National League Championship Series, then .345 in the World Series.

Parker rose to any occasion, and had personality. He played in MLB 19 seasons. If you talked about baseball during that time, you talked about Parker. You had no choice.

Catcher (and former Pirates GM) Ted Simmons got inducted into the Hall of Fame Wednesday. His numbers pale next to Parker’s. He has no rings, or big moments. Simmons was named by the Modern Baseball Era Committee, whatever that is. In his first year on the baseball writers’ ballot, Simmons got just 3.7% of the vote and was removed moving forward.

Simmons is in the Hall of Fame, but not Parker.

That’s absolutely ludicrous. Simmons never finished higher than sixth in MVP voting.

Not one GM in baseball history would take Simmons over Parker.

Parker is bothered by not being in the Hall of Fame, but tries to not sell too much. He has wondered if his past drug use impeded his candidacy, but currently…

“I don’t care if I make it now or not,” Parker said.

“They treat me like a World Series champ and a Hall-of-Famer everywhere I go. When I sign autographs, I see Hall-of-Famers sitting there, and my line is just as long. I’m respected by Hall-of-Famers.”

I loved watching Parker play when I was a kid and got his autograph many times. Nice guy. Class act. His swing was art. It would uncoil, just like a cobra.

Parker wrote a very candid book called, “Cobra: A Life of Baseball and Brotherhood.” He’ll sign copies Friday 6:30-8 p.m. at the PNC Park gift shop, then again Saturday 3-4:30 p.m.

Parker’s omission from the Hall of Fame is one of many absurd absences.

The Hall of Fame can figure out a way to induct a very good talent like Simmons, and also constructs reasons to nix all-time greats: Parker, Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Shoeless Joe Jackson, Mark McGwire, Pete Rose and Sammy Sosa aren’t honored at Cooperstown for varying reasons, some concrete and some not. Steroid user Alex Rodriguez is on next year’s ballot.

If the Hall of Fame’s top priority is recognizing baseball excellence, it’s failing. Its quest to judge morality seems misguided, and has organically assembled a group of players who haven’t been honored that could likely beat the honorees in a theoretical game.

Parker would start for that team. Right field. Where else?