I gasped when I heard Pete Rose had passed away last night. My wife immediately asked me “is everything ok?”. It wasn’t. Since that moment, I have been conducting a legendary game of tug-o-war between my brain and my heart. Much like the man himself, my relationship with the Pete Rose is complicated. I will start off by saying, I never met the man. As such, I admit my opinion is based entirely as a fan and doesn’t really matter to anyone but me. But here it is… Pete Rose will always be a “Hall of Fame ballplayer” while at the same time a “below replacement level” human being.
As a young kid, I could not stand Pete Rose, star of the Cincinnati Reds. He did stupid things like hurting his friend Ray Fosse in a All Star Game. He got too much attention for doing flamboyant things like his crouching batting stance, sliding headfirst into a base or sprinting to first after a walk. When his Reds beat my Phillies in the 1976 NLCS, my 10 year old soul was crushed. It was my first of many lessons in how cruel baseball could be.
Then following the 1978 season, Pete Rose signed as a free agent with my favorite team, shocking both the baseball world and my concept of being a fan. This was the ultimate “cheering for laundry” moment. He went from villain to hero in an instant. I didn’t care that he was 39 years old and coming off a season in which he hit seven home runs, he was going to be the new first baseman for the Phillies. After signing his $3.2 million contract, the New York Times wrote, “The wildest auction in baseball history ended today when Pete Rose signed a four-year contract with the Philadelphia Phillies for $800,000 a year and became the highest‐paid player in the game.”
I was absolutely sure the Phillies were going to finally win the World Series in 1979. They didn’t. However my dreams came true the next season and Pete Rose was in the middle of it. I watched every game and to me… Pete Rose was the reason the Phillies won the 1980 World Series.
When he eventually returned to the Reds, via the Montreal Expos, I still loved the guy. When the gambling allegations came out… I refused to believe it. When he received that “lifetime ban”… I was sure it would only last for a couple of years. I always assumed he would eventually get enshrined in Cooperstown. It never happened.
It wasn’t until Pete himself admitted publicly that he bet on baseball game in which he played/managed did I finally accept he did it. Over and over again, he just couldn’t help himself. The things that made him a great ballplayer were the same things that prevented him from achieving his destiny during his lifetime. It seemed so simple. He just needed to properly apologize, show some humility and all would be forgiven. It wasn’t. He kept digging himself deeper and deeper into the abyss. By his 2022 appearance at the 1980 Phillies World Series team reunion, I was done. His behavior at that event was beyond my ability to ignore. Sadly, Pete Rose died yesterday still waiting to hear from the commissioner, never completely understanding he was his own worst enemy.
I no longer have a strong opinion regarding his Hall of Fame eligibility. I want to say Pete Rose’s “lifetime” ban should be just that and he served his sentence. But I just don’t care. What happens next doesn’t matter.
