Pete Rose is Out, but for How Long? : Commentary

WASHINGTON — We know where Pete Rose is now. Nowhere. (Unless he’s snuck onto the Home Shoppers Network with special limited-edition collector’s plates commemorating nostalgic highlights of his career, like his .44-game hitting streak, his 4,256 hits and some of his favorite Pik Six winners.) He’s out of baseball. And out of luck.

That’s now.

But where will he be in time?

The questions most often asked about Rose are: Will he ever get back into baseball? And, will he make the Hall of Fame?

Let’s take the Hall of Fame question first, because it’s a no-brainer. The “Character clause” in the voting was stuck in there for public relations value. If you cleared the Hall of Fame of drunks, reprobates, racists, tax dodgers and slobs, you could fit the remaining busts in a broom closet. For 22 seasons as a major league player Rose was the embodiment of all baseball holds most dear. He was its hearts, its grit and its hustle. We’re not electing someone to the House of Representatives, we’re confirming his ability to hit a baseball. If Pete Rose isn’t in the Hall of Fame, they ought to burn it down.

Now, will he return to baseball? And by “baseball” we are not talking about going to the proposed Ump de Trump Baseball League or to Japan. Will Pete Rose get back in major league baseball, A. Bartlett Giamatti’s baseball league?

Professor Giamatti, the Ivory Tower Executioner, has had his say. Yes, said Giamatti, I have concluded Mr. Rose bet on baseball. And yes, declared Giamatti, glaring out from forbidding racoon(CQ?), Rose is banned for life. Let him apply for readmittance until Great Birnan wood comes to high Dunsinane hill--it will be unavailing, the professor scornfully implied. Giamatti was smug in his presentation, contemptuous not only of Rose but also of the media seeking to understand his ruling. There’s an Italian word for this demeanor--”superbo,” which translates as great haughtiness.

I’d rather not tie my wagon to Rose’s character. I think he’s more or less a slug. (Though I’m amused at the caravan of baseball writers who have been so quick to scrape him off their shoes after 20 years of unstinting praise.) There may be rougher times ahead for Rose, with the ongoing IRS investigation and the possibility of prison. But in this matter of Rose’s lifetime ban from professor Giamatti’s Chaucer and Chewing Tobacco Club, does the punishment fit the crime?

Did Rose fix games? No.

Did he kill someone? No.

Is he part of a discernible conspiracy? No.

Baseball’s rule to banish for life people who gambled on their own team was established almost 70 years ago. Baseball was drastically different then in the pre-Ruth, pre-West, pre-TV days. Hardly a national sport, the Black Sox scandal forced baseball to struggle with a true crisis of confidence. The commissioner, appointed in a panic to placate the public, was expected to be dictatorial.

But to those who claim Rose has undermined the game, I ask: How? Attendance is rock solid. This is no scandal. There’s no crisis of confidence, no doubt of the game’s veracity.

Anyway, Rose hasn’t been found to have a bet on his team.

He hasn’t even been found to have bet on baseball at all.

The agreement signed by Rose and Giamatti is clear: “ ... and the commissioner will not make any formal finding or determinations on any matter without limitation the allegation that Peter Edward Rose bet on any Major League Baseball game.” Forget what Bart The Smart said. As in his letter to the judge canonizing Rose’s chief accuser, pay attention to what he signed.

When Rose applies for reinstatement, Giamatti can turn him down. And he can keep turning him down. But in the absence of a formal finding that Rose bet on the Reds, how long can this go on? Reading the agreement, it appears that Rose has been banished for life for illegal sports betting (as he admits doing), and for associating with known gamblers (as seems obvious)--rule violations that in past administrations have elicited limited suspensions. How many rejections can Giamatti issue until it will seem that the only reason he keeps dismissing Rose is out of meanness?

So, what can Rose do to hasten the swell of public opinion to his side? The way the agreement is written, even if Rose bet on baseball there’s no reason to admit it. Most people. me included, believe he bet. But it’s off the table. One savvy step Rose could take is to undergo counseling for gambling. I don’t know if Rose is addicted to gambling. He says he’s not. But Rose faces Catch-22. As soon as someone denies being an addict, 10,000 pop psychologists scream, “Aha! Denial! The sure sign of the addictive personality.” (I resent the rush to medicalize all social problems; we’re too enamored with the pitiful romance of addictions.) Even if he isn’t, and he’s just going through the motions for the PR benefit, but particularly if he’s a pathological gambler, Rose would be wise to seek therapy; it’s the welcome mat back for alcohol and drug users.

Giamatti’s supporters describe him as a compassionate man who has anguished over The Rose Affair. He has the chance to show this compassionate side. If he believes in rehabilitation (although Rose appears unreconstructed by denying he bet on baseball, he did demonstrate marginal remorse by admitting he “made some mistakes”), if Giamatti believes in the better side of man, he can hold out the olive branch to Rose. Show Rose the door is closed, but not locked. In three years--providing Rose has been a model citizen--Giamatti should let him back into baseball. He’d be a neat broadcaster. And the next season George Steinbrenner, who knows a thing or two about convictions and suspensions, will hire him to manage the Yankees.