Dave Shoemaker
Contributing columnist
I have a story about Pete Rose. It happened when I was 11 or 12 years old. We had a brief encounter in the Cincinnati Reds training room back in 1967 or 1968, I can’t be sure. It all began when my father and I, along with my Uncle Myrl and some of my cousins were walking into old Crosley Field in Cincinnati, the home of the Reds. On the way into the park my cousin and I were playing with a whiffle ball and lobbing it to each other. My cousin ended up scraping his knee pretty badly, was bleeding, and needed a bandage to cover his injury. Well, it just so happened that former Reds great and TV color guy for the Reds at the time, Joe Nuxhall, was walking by. You see, my father and Joe were old friends from back in the day. Might have had something to do with World War II, I can’t quite recall. Bottom line we ended up in the Reds training room so my cuz could get his knee looked at, and lo and behold we ended up at a table next to Charlie Hustle himself, Pete Rose. The memory I have of that day was that Pete Rose made us feel like the most important kids on earth. He asked where we were from, what baseball positions we played, and who our favorite players were. That last question, by the way, was really easy for me. Why, you, sir. My favorite player is you.
I have a baseball from that day with a bunch of signatures on it, and front and center is the name Pete Rose.
I read later on that Pete could be rude, crass, and difficult to deal with, but I’m here to tell you he was the perfect gentleman that day.
Maybe the most excited person in the training room that day was my father. My dad loved Pete Rose. Pete exemplified everything my dad stood for – hard work, team play, and winning. Speaking of winning, not only is Pete Rose the all-time hits leader, he’s also played in more winning games, 1,972, than any other baseball player. He’s followed by Hank Aaron at 1735, Carl Yastrzemski 1718, Stan Musial 1653, and Willie Mays 1643. That’s pretty good company folks. My dad loved Pete because although he wasn’t an amazing athlete he worked so damn hard that he overcame many of his limitations. And dad preached hustle, man, and Pete sprinted to first base on walks and when he ran to take his position on the field! What a great example for little leaguers everywhere.
But alas, Pete wasn’t perfect. We all know what happened later. The gambling, the denials, and the ultimate lifetime suspension from baseball and a ban from the Hall of Fame.
Listen folks, the Hall of Fame is not a shrine to saints. It includes players who used performance-enhancing drugs, known racists, domestic abusers, and those with a litany of other personal failings. Yet, Pete Rose, a man whose crime was betting on his own team to win, remained a pariah. This wasn’t about preserving the integrity of the game, it was about selective morality and clinging to an outdated sense of puritanical judgment.
All Pete Rose ever wanted was to stand on that podium and accept his induction into the Baseball Hall of Fame. It was his dream since he was a little kid tossing a whiffle ball like my cousin and I were doing that day back in the mid-60s at Crosley Field. Yet baseball commissioners Fay Vincent, Bud Selig and Rob Manfred sat on their high horse and self-righteously kept him out. All you had to do was let him in that door and add a few words about his ban on the plaque below his Hall of Fame bust. It could have read something like this:
Pete Rose
“Charlie Hustle”
Cincinnati, N.L, 1963-78, 1984-86
Philadelphia, N.L., 1980-83
Montreal, N.L., 1984
All-time hits leader (4,256 hits), all-time wins leader (1,972), exemplified hustle and a joy for the game, known for his signature headfirst slides as captain of World Champion Big Red Machine (1975-76) and field leader of World Champion Cardiac Kids for the Philadelphia Phillies (1980). Played a record 500 games at five different positions. Three batting titles, 44-game hitting streak, N.L. MVP, 1973. Served a 36-year banishment from baseball for gambling.
And with that, you’d have fulfilled the greatest hitter in baseball history’s dream as well as making millions of baseball fans happy.
But now? It’s too damn late. Don’t you dare induct him posthumously. Pete would have received the biggest ovation any Hall of Famer had ever received the day he was inducted, but you blew it, and because of this travesty, the Hall of Fame will never mean anything to me. How could it if the all-time leader in hits and wins isn’t in it?
Rest in peace, Pete. The world knows the truth.
Dave Shoemaker is a retired teacher, athletic director and basketball coach with most of his professional years spent at Paint Valley. He also served as the national basketball coach for the island country of Montserrat in the British West Indies. He lives in Southern Ohio with his best friends and companions, his dogs Sweet Lilly and Hank. He can be reached at https://shoeuntied.wordpress.com/.
