4192: Pete Rose Makes His Case (Again)

Wow, readers: as promised I viewed the new documentary 4192 yesterday. It details the career of one Peter Edward Rose, a guy I have had a hard time loving--but even a harder time hating. Pete doesn't make it easy to feel either way about him, at least for the die-hard Reds fans, and this doc (if anyone sees it) makes it even more difficult to keep the long-held keep-the-bum-out public opinion going.

Look, I know there's been a lot of Pete Rose publicity stunts aimed at reinstating him into the good graces of baseball in the last decade or so, and I know he's sounding more and more pathetic and desperate (and guilty) with each one. But here's the thing: the guy was f-ing amazing. He was the real deal, which, in this age of 'roided up super-villain-looking cheaters, seems more rare, more genuine and a breath of fresh air. Pete was (and still is, by the looks of him in the film) a total troll: not by any means tall or muscled or agile or graceful--not an athlete at all, by most definitions. The fact that he was able to succeed like he did was no accident, stroke of luck or by-product of dirty-dealings: it was sheer grit, heart and H-U-S-T-L-E. That little troll was scrappy, he could hit from either side of the plate and would play any position he was asked to play with no complaints. Would any of that fly today with our current crowd of jacked-up prima donnas? I doubt Jeter would be so accommodating.

The film just lays it all out there for you: the numbers have always spoken very loudly about his (mind-boggling) accomplishments, but there were also some of the most accomplished and respected faces in baseball extolling Pete's virtues. Marty Brenneman, Mike Schmidt, and (Mercy Missile favorite) Tony Perez: all saying what a stand-up guy and astounding player Pete is/was. I dare you: go see this film, listen to the adorable Tony Perez talk about his BFF and try and tell me you still think Pete should be barred from Cooperstown. If you can do this than you have a heart of cold hard steel.

*Please note* I would be remiss if I did not warn you: about halfway in Pete does a cringe-worthy reenactment of that awful Aqua Velva commercial. Ye be warned!

Pete Rose: Can He Get Any Scum-Baggier?

This story about the corked Pete Rose bats has broken recently, and I just don't know what to think about this guy anymore. Sheesh, I totally believed Pete for all those years he denied having gambled on baseball while he was managing the Reds. I loved him for his hustle (certainly not for his looks); he was scrappy, he was entertaining, and he was a colorful part of one of the best baseball teams of all times, so I always thought he deserved the benefit of the doubt and a place in the Hall of Fame.

Then he comes out and admits the whole gambling thing in a crummy, gossip-mongering tell-all book (guess he needed some cash). I was pretty much over him after that, but then the steroid scandal happened and I began to reconsider: yes, gambling on your team is scummy, for sure, but it's not nearly as bad as doping yourself into a Jolly Green Giant physique (Hello, Roid-ger Clements, Sammy Sosa, Mark Macguire, et al). And besides, I rationalized, he never did anything but try like hell to win, so it's not like he was betting against his own team and then taking a dive.

But now this. Jeeze, Peter, just when I was coming back around, too. Keep the bum out, I say. Just another reason to love Johnny Bench even more, I guess.