Hall of Fame induction speech was 100% Conlin

COOPERSTOWN, N.Y. - His iPad teleprompter was balking on him, so Bill Conlin did what Bill Conlin does. He told a joke.

"I don't want you to think it was hot today," he said, "but Pete Rose was reported down on Main Street selling autographed Slurpees - $5 for the autograph and $20 for the Slurpee."

Several thousand people who were gathered Saturday at Doubleday Field laughed. They were there, just down the street from the Baseball Hall of Fame, to honor Conlin, Marlins broadcaster Dave Van Horne and longtime general manager Roland Hemond for their lifetimes of work in the game. Afterward, they and about 50 Hall of Fame members - including former Phillies general manager Pat Gillick, who was inducted yesterday - rode in a parade through the center of town on the back of pickup trucks.

Conlin thanked his family and friends, and then the technology cooperated, and then he was off. All of the tools familiar to his half-century of readers in the Daily News were in evidence during his 10-minute speech: needle, scalpel, bludgeon, pie-in-the-face, and Battle of Gettysburg.

He was him.

This is what he said:

Good afternoon and thanks for coming to this Hall of Fame weekend inaugural event. I am proud, privileged and humbled to be part of the first awards ceremony conducted in Doubleday Field.

Congratulations to Frick and O'Neil recipients Dave Van Horne and Roland Hemond. And like Terry Cashman, I'll be talkin' baseball. Also newspapers.

My first year on the baseball beat for the Philadelphia Daily News was 1966. The Connie Mack Stadium press corps included Evening Bulletin veteran Ray Kelly, Inquirer fixture Allen Lewis and Trenton Times "roadie" Harold "Bus" Saidt. All have been Spink Award recipients. It was one tough press box for a rookie to work in.

Bus Saidt might have been the most unique of the 62 Spink Award winners. Willie Mays was introduced to the minor leagues when Trenton Giants broadcaster Bus Saidt picked him up at the train station. Years later, when the Phils were on the road, Bus would cover the Mets or Yankees. His newspaper didn't believe in airline, hotel or meal expenses. The title of his biography might have been, "The Wayward Bus: 30 Years of Baseball Writing on Nothing a Day."

I'm grateful to the BBWAA for hooking me up again with that diverse trio while I'm still upright. Better now than in extra innings - right, Terry?