Goose Gossage pitched for the A's late in his career.

All that is wrong with Goose Gossage being inducted into the Hall of Fame this weekend is that it should have happened several years ago.

Gossage, who helped create the role of closer as it exists today, was on the Hall of Fame ballot for eight years before finally being voted in last December. A Hall of Fame voter, I included him, as well as fellow closer Bruce Suter who also was inducted too late, on my ballot every year. I felt that my fellow members of the Base Ball Writers Association of America should be disenfranchised for ignoring the pair so long. They have committed other sins, but their lack of insight is a subject for another day. This is about Gossage.

A whirling dervish on the mound with an intimidating walrus mustache, Gossage was one of the most colorful players of his day, as well as one of the most effective. When he came in glowering and snorting from the bullpen, the game was generally over. Never was his dominance more in evidence than in the 1981 postseason. In a six games over the three series he pitched 14 1/3 innings, allowed no runs, six hits, with four walks and 10 strikeouts.

I became acquainted with him late in his career, when he pitched for the A’s in 1992 and 1993 and I was a beat writer. He no longer was the overpowering pitcher he had been earlier, but was effective and was willing to put his ego aside and defer to Dennis Eckersley, who was on the way to the Hall himself. I was surprised by what a genial and friendly personality Gossage had, a marked contrast to his demeanor on the mound.

He was also notorious for an obscenity-filled tirade against a group of reporters in a post-game clubhouse.  Caught on tape for posterity, Gossage’s rant joined Dodgers manager Tommy Lasorda’s more famous expletive filled outburst in similar circumstances at Wrigley Field. Years before the internet, recordings circulated in the baseball underground for years, and Lasorda’s even wound up on several record albums.

But Gossage’s, which was equally colorful and profane, just didn’t fit with the big teddy bear I got to know so I asked him about it.

It seems the catalysts were similar, each man being set off by an inane question from the media. After the Dodgers lostto the Cubs on a day Dave Kingman hit three homers and drove in nine runs, Lasorda was asked, “What was your opinion of Kingman’s performance?’’ Lasorda’s response was to let the world know in four letters at a time his opinion of the question.

Gossage had entered a game under difficult circumstances one night – something like the bases loaded and no outs – nearly escaped but eventually lost the lead. The next day the Yankees played a double header (you remember those) and he saved both ends, neither coming easy. In the postgame clubhouse he wearily sat at his locker, faced the media and was immediately asked, “Well what about last night?”

Gossage told them all what about it, in Hall of Fame style.

Congratulations, Goose.