Some guys lead by example. Others are vocal leaders. Tony Perez led with his jab.

        Perez was the leading needler on the Big Red Machine.

        “Let me tell you, he could get on guys,” said Marty Brennaman, the Reds' radio play-by-play man. “If they gave doctorates in needling, Tony would have one.”

        There was a purpose to all of Perez's gags. They kept the egos, which on the Big Red Machine were huge, in check.

        “Somebody has to keep the team loose,” Perez said.

HALL OF FAME WEEK

The Enquirer is running a weeklong series of Hall of Fame stories leading to Sunday's inductions:   • Sunday: Bid McPhee didn't need a glove most of his career.   • Monday: How Sparky Anderson became Reds manager   • Tuesday: How Marty Brennaman became Reds broadcaster   • Wednesday: How Tony Perez went from Cuba to the Reds system   • Thursday: How Anderson became “Captain Hook.”   • Friday: Brennaman's broadcasting style is sharp-edged   • Today: Perez's needle wove Big Red Machine fabric   • Sunday: Special coverage on each of the Reds' inductees.   • Most viewers shut out of live Hall coverage

        Perez will go into the Hall of Fame on Sunday because of what he did at the plate. He is 18th on the all-time RBI list with 1,652. He drove in at least 90 runs every year from 1967-77. From 1967-76, he led the major leagues with 1,028 RBI.

        “He was the best clutch hitter I ever saw,” teammate Pete Rose said.

        But what he contributed off the field might have been what made the Big Red Machine great. He could needle with the best of them, but he also would pick up a slumping player with a kind word or two.

        “He never let anyone get too high when they were going good or too low when they were struggling,” said Brennaman, who also will be in ducted into the Hall of Fame Sunday.

        Perez is one of the nicest and most soft-spoken people you'll ever meet, but he was a fierce presence in the batter's box.

        Perez's first step into the national spotlight came in 1967, when he ended history's longest All-Star Game by hitting a 15th-inning home run off Catfish Hunter to give the National League a 2-1 victory.

        “If the game was on the line, (ending it) is what he was there for,” said Reds teammate and fellow Hall of Famer Johnny Bench. “I honestly believe he thought, "That's my job.' And he was going to do his job, every possible chance he had.”

        The Reds were notorious for telling one another the truth about the way they were playing — no matter how painful it was.

        “You didn't want to screw up, because everybody would be on you,” Dave Concepcion said.

        Perez said all the little jabs had their purpose. If nothing was sacred, everything was out in the open. No one talked behind anyone's back.

        “I joked with all the players,” Perez said. “You need someone loose, someone who has fun. I was that one.”

        Perez's value to the Reds perhaps was most apparent after he left. After the Reds won World Series titles in 1975 and '76, Perez was considered expendable. A younger player, Dan Driessen, looked like a budding star to take over at first base.

        So Perez was traded to Montreal, along with Will McEnaney, for pitchers Woody Fryman and Dale Murray.

        That essentially ended the Big Red Machine dynasty.

        “When we got to spring training in '77,” Brennaman said, “everyone could sense something was missing. But, by then, it was too late.”

Reds fans make pilgrimage to Cooperstown

Bowden: Larkin trade unlikely Reds are ground zero for what ails baseball Diamondbacks 5, Reds 4 Box, runs Mantei blows it past Griffey REDS NOTEBOOK Perez's barbs kept Reds loose Reds fans make pilgrimage to Cooperstown

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