It could have been different. Major League Baseball could have commuted Pete Rose’s sentence, providing him entre to the Baseball Hall of Fame ballot while he was still alive.
Instead, 35 years into banishment from the game that fueled him, baseball chose hypocrisy and greed in profiting from the rage in sports gambling over compassion and appropriate justice.
Somehow, right up to his recent death at 83, it was believed more appropriate for the Cincinnati Reds’ Great American Ballpark to house a betting parlor than it would have been for Rose to be seen in uniform coaching third base. It was OK to gamble on baseball where baseball is played in the city where Rose flourished for most of his record-setting, 24-year career.
Freedman
A legend, with the sport’s all-time mark of 4,256 hits, a unique style of play that naturally included the nickname “Charlie Hustle,” but with a mixed legacy for his violation of baseball rules through placing bets on his teams to win, Rose still had the doors to the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York locked in his face.
For that stain on his career, Rose was banished from the game in 1989 and never paroled. He went to his death, in failing health, but in unexpected fashion, just a day after a day signing autographs with former Reds teammates George Foster, Davey Concepcion and Tony Perez.
In retirement, Rose made his living out of signing his name, on balls, bats, cards, photos, any surface that would accept his penmanship. He did this so often, for so long, it will easily be another century before his signature is considered a rare collectible.
With the 5-foot-11, 192-pound build of a fullback, and a haircut (for a long while) like those buzzed into Marines’ heads, the 1963 National League rookie-of-the-year, operated at full throttle, including running out bases on balls. He was Mr. Cooperative to sportswriters, sitting in front of his locker, win or lose, as a player. Some ear their passion on their sleeves. Baseball ran through Rose’s veins in a way that few other humans exhibited.
“I’d walk through hell in a gasoline suit to play baseball,” Rose said. No one doubted that sincerity.
Rose won a Most Valuable Player Award, played for the great Cincinnati Reds’ mid-1970s title teams, and helped the Philadelphia Phillies to a 1980 World Series championship, too. A native of the community, Rose’s manager Sparky Anderson once said of him, “He is Cincinnati.”
Rose won two batting titles and was selected as an All-Star 17 times. He said of each upcoming season, count on his batting .300 and getting 200 hits. Rose’s pursuit of Ty Cobb’s previously unassailable record of 4,191 hits captivated fans.
Rose seemed to have an adding machine in his head, aware of his own statistics in a surprisingly detailed manner in casual conservation. He reached his goal and called himself “The Hit King” the remainder of his life. Rose’s downfall was his gambling, violating baseball’s cardinal sin.
The years passed, there was periodic talk of Rose petitioning for reinstatement to the game, not to be re-employed as a coach. What was primarily at issue for such a great player was Rose’s eligibility for his name to be listed as a candidate for inclusion in the Hall of Fame. No one disputed he belonged based upon feats on the diamond. But if he couldn’t get on the ballot, he couldn’t garner any votes.
Rose did commit the crime. He did gamble. He did bet. Baseball’s sentence was forever. Commissioners came and went and they did not entertain entreaties from Rose to be reinstated to the sport he loved. Presidents offered clemency to more nefarious miscreants.
Standing on principle was one thing, but with the sport raking in millions of dollars from sports betting on baseball, by a few years ago that was no longer a tenable position. The logical action would have been for a commissioner to declare Rose had been sufficiently punished and reinstated him.
Never happened during his lifetime.
Pete Rose will someday appear on the Hall of Fame ballot and one day he will be voted into the Hall. Who among us who met him, obtained an autograph, who admired his achievements, will still be alive for that moment? Not Pete.