Jim Rice, the 1978 American League MVP and an eight-time All-Star, was gracious and often times hilarious while answering questions for an hour as a special guest of the Watertown Wizards on Monday at the Black River Valley Club.

Rice loosened his tie as he approached the podium with the same determined look many remember from his days in left field for the Boston Red Sox.

"I'm only a tie-and-suit guy when I'm with NESN," said Rice, referencing his job as a sometimes-commentator with the New England Sports Network.

He then unclipped the microphone, pulled up a chair, flashed a major league grin and sat with a collection of fans to talk baseball, life and his feelings on the Hall of Fame.

"I would love to be in the Hall of Fame," Rice said. "But I think today's players would probably say, 'I'm playing for the Hall of Fame.' But I say, 'I played for the Boston Red Sox.' I played for the game. In the back of my mind I wasn't thinking about the Hall of Fame."

Rice, who still holds a position as instructional batting coach for Boston, has been on the Hall of Fame ballot for the past 14 years, coming closest to enshrinement in January, when he was 2.8-percent short of his own day at Cooperstown.

His numbers are there, as Rice compiled a .298 career batting average, 2,452 career hits, 382 home runs and 1,451 career RBIs. Add to that eight All-Star selections (in 1977, '78, '79, '80, '83, '84, '85 and '86) and the 1978 MVP award, and one may wonder what it is, exactly, that keeps him from the Hall of Fame.

Rice joked about the fact that most Hall of Fame voters weren't around when he was denting the Green Monster from the mid '70s to late '80s.

"There's players that should be in the Hall of Fame that aren't in the Hall of Fame. There's players who aren't in the Hall of Fame that should be in the Hall of Fame. But you look at my situation, all my writers are dead."

Rice had no regrets on his career though, and seems at peace with the Hall of Fame debate that rages on among the scribes and fans of baseball.

He seemed much more worried about the current state of the game and its players, who he holds solely responsible for the performance-enhancing drugs problem.

"Steroids tainted the players that were accused of using steroids," Rice said, "the players that were caught using steroids, those are the ones that are tainted. The game is now exciting, the players are clean."

Rice also said that the sheer size of the MLB is a problem that weakens the teams within it, adding that just one member of Boston's reigning World Series champions would replace a starter from the team that lost the Series in '75.

"The only one that would've made it, maybe (Jonathan) Papelbon," Rice said. "Because we had Dick Drago out there, Papelbon has a little more velocity than him."

Rice has been particularly unimpressed with current Boston left fielder Manny Ramirez.

"I'm tired of people saying, 'Manny being Manny,'" Rice said. "It's not like I'd take my 11-year old kid to go out and watch 'Manny being Manny,' that's not baseball. (Sunday) he hit home run 501, but, even though he hit 501 they still almost lost the game. Did you see those two plays he made out in left field? Now, do you want your kid to be 'Manny being Manny' missing those balls?"

Rice's most memorable moment on the diamond wasn't a home run or a spectacular catch in left field. It was being in the right place at the right time and doing the right thing for a boy in the stands on August 7, 1982 at Fenway Park.

A line-drive off the bat of Red Sox first baseman Dave Stapleton struck 4-year old fan Jonathan Keane in the face during the nationally televised game.

"His dad was just like, shocked," Rice said. "Everybody just stood there. I was in the dugout, so I came out and picked the kid up and took him to the clubhouse."

After the game, team doctor Arthur Pappas said that Rice could have saved the boy's life.

"I got a letter from the kid maybe three years ago," Rice said. "He graduated from Duke with honors. We have that picture up there in the main lobby of the Red Sox."

For Rice, it was second nature to go the extra step that day, to be the hero. But Rice just saw it as a job he had to do.

"Every day I'd go down to the ballpark and they'd put that "C" on me as captain of the ballclub," Rice said. "I had to set an example."