CHICAGO -- Carlton Fisk is a doting grandfather now who's as meticulous with the orchids he cultivates at his Chicago-area home as he once was working with pitchers during a 24-year major league career.

Next stop? The Hall of Fame, the ultimate reward for a long career as one of baseball's best catchers, a stretch filled with impressive statistics and sometimes stormy relationships with management.

"I gave everything I had to the game," Fisk said Tuesday when he was chosen to the Hall of Fame in his second year of eligibility. "I feel very proud that I was a giver and not a taker."

Fisk's lasting image is that of coaxing a home run for the Boston Red Sox in the 1975 World Series, his arms waving to will the ball fair in one of baseball's most dramatic and unforgettable moments.

Not bad for a youngster from New Hampshire, who at 5-foot-4, 155 pounds, earned the nickname "Pudge" that would stay with him as he grew on his trek to Cooperstown.

Fisk arrived at baseball's ultimate shrine by parlaying stubbornness, physical strength from long and exhaustive workouts, talent and a devotion to baseball that he still carries.

"It's really hard to believe I will be writing "HOF" after my name," Fisk said.

"It's hard to fathom and realize."

Fisk, the 1972 Rookie of the Year, departed Boston unhappy in 1980 when the Red Sox missed a deadline for mailing him a contract, and he became a free agent. He went to Chicago, flipped his number from "27" to "72" and played 13 seasons for the White Sox -- many years as the backbone of the team -- before he was released at age 44 in 1993.

When he was refused admittance to the Chicago clubhouse to greet his former teammates before the playoffs that year, the bitterness of the game's greatest home run hitting catcher grew.

"I was crushed, absolutely crushed," Fisk would say later. The relationship has still not been repaired, even though the White Sox retired his number in 1997.

"It did not end well," Fisk said. "Will it ever be resolved? I don't know. Could it be? Anything is possible. ...

"I think I probably came away with the same thing from here as I did from Boston, they both ended about the same. Here might have been a little more intense."

Since then, he has mended fences with the Red Sox, accepting a job as an assistant to the general manager.

So which hat to the Hall, Pudge? Which Sox to represent? Red or White?

"It's not anything you wear on your hat," Fisk said Tuesday. "I don't think you get inducted into the Hall of Fame with respect to what you wear, but with respect to how you played and the torch you carried. I believe that I did that.

"I'd like to be able to wear both hats, but I'll make that declaration a little later."

And, he claims, the decision will be tough, although most are expecting him to choose the Red Sox.

"It's going to be a difficult decision from my heart, maybe not from my head," Fisk said, adding there were good and bad times in both cities.

"In no way when the decision is made or declaration is made will it indicate or reflect badly on either organization or either ballpark full of fans that supported the teams I played for. No slight for anybody. It's just a hat. The most important insignia is 'HOF.'"

Fisk was deliberate in most everything he did, including his preparation and long workouts after games. He could delay a game by himself with a slow swagger to the mound to talk with a pitcher or with a purposeful home run trot on tested knees.

And he did not accept or tolerate less than a full effort -- from himself, his teammates or opponents.

When a young Yankees player named Deion Sanders didn't run out a popup during a game in 1990, Fisk promptly gave him an earful on how the game was supposed to be played.

"He played hard and he played hurt. He demanded much of himself, from his teammates and his opponents," said White Sox chairman Jerry Reinsdorf, with whom Fisk was often at odds.

In his 24-year-career, Fisk finished with 376 homers, 351 as a catcher, and he caught more games than any other player (2,226), a figure made more impressive because he overcame reconstructive knee surgery early in his career.

His homer in Game 6 of the 1975 World Series against the Reds extended the classic to seven games. The Reds and Tony Perez, who will be inducted along with Fisk, ultimately prevailed.

Fisk said that homer, replayed so many times, did more than win a World Series game, it changed the way baseball was perceived.

"It showed with the emotions released at that moment that players who play the game aren't just flat-faced people on baseball cards or TV or magazines, they are actually real people who play a game everybody loved growing up," Fisk said.