In all honesty, as someone who detested Pete Rose for a large portion of his formative years, let me say this:
The Hall of Fame of Major League Baseball should include him.
Not only was he one of the greatest players of his era, but he also deserves to be there. Not just because he eclipsed Ty Cobb’s career hit total record. Not only that, but he played with the same kind of childlike exuberance and excitement.
Pete Rose should be inducted into the Hall of Fame because his transgression of betting on baseball pales in comparison to the transgressions of the drug era or baseball’s longstanding, reprehensible, and repugnant attitude toward the far more serious issue of domestic abuse.
Numerous athletes implicated in domestic abuse incidents have participated in league play and still do.
It’s just now that they’re getting around to mending it.
The times are not the same.
Rose did nothing to affect his incredible stats. His hits were well-earned.
Rose belongs in the hall with the other players that made up Cincinnati’s Big Red Machine—men that I detested like Tony Perez, Joe Morgan, and Johnny Bench. They all prevented the Pittsburgh Pirates and my boyhood (and adult) hero, the legendary Roberto Clemente, from winning the World Series in 1970, 1972, and 1975, along with Rose alone.
Major League Baseball commissioner Rob Manfred has made the decision not to revoke Rose’s 1989 indefinite ban. It’s a foolish, feeble choice.
One time, Hall of Famer Mike Schmidt remarked, “I’ve never met a more likeable, conceited person than Pete Rose.”
Conversely, MLB officials lack charm and are conceited.
