After fourteen years of sustained denial
that he bet on baseball, Pete Rose now admits he lied.
Man! What a depressing squander of time, what a colossal
perfidy, and what attaint of sickening proportion on
professional baseball?
Please, pardon my litany of whats, but
what in the name of baseball happened to the honorable
and ethical conduct of giving full account of your actions
and taking responsibility for them?
So, at the twilight of a 14-year long
perplexing doggedness that had a dark cloud of betting
impropriety and recreancy hovering over his head, by
choice, Pete Rose did bet on baseball, and as he claims,
“four or five times a week.”
Fie!
In light of the scandalous nature of
this saga, it’s no surprise that 500,000 copies
of his new autobiography, My Prison Without Bars,
set to hit the newsstands Thursday was the medium deployed
to unveil this stunning revelation.
Chink Ching! Chink Ching! How many copies,
ma’am? I peddle autographs, too, sir!
The proverbial biblical parlance of
assurance about the redeeming and therapeutic qualities
of telling the truth speaks volumes here. To be sure,
the truth shall set Pete Rose free; perhaps also get
him into the baseball hall of fame at long last. But
it’s going to cost the rest of us. My Prison
Without Bars sells for $24.95 a copy. And if you
are into on-line purchasing, pull out that calculator
and add the cost of shipping and handling.
One slick caveat in Rose’s admission
of guilt is the part that sought to downplay the absurdity
and moronic basis for this lie. And that is Rose’s
incredible and audacious contention that the vehemence
of his denial was motivated by his belief that the punishment
dangled before him – expulsion from baseball for
life – “didn’t fit the crime --- so
I denied the crime.”
A slick way of saying I really didn’t
mean to lie. But I had to. Yeah right! That amounts
to a sneaky sophism that rings deeply hollow.
For fourteen long years, Rose sustained
a fanatical denial that he bet on baseball. Now, he
claims he is telling us the truth, that the truth he
told us in the past was really a lie and that somehow
this tangled web of mess he created all got straightened
out satisfactorily in his new book. Now, here is precisely
where you nicely fit in and your basic part in this
slick and fie subterfuge. You are now supposed to go
out and buy this book, which he is feverishly peddling
as though his next bet depends on it.
Baloney.
What really is the truth now? Do we
know? Will we ever know?
Now, it’s all a massive pile of
mess, and given this mess, his tongue will always be
subjected to skeptical nods or downright askance at
best, even if it came properly notarized, to borrow
a leaf from Judge Milian of the popular TV People’s
Court.
The sad fact of the matter is that the
truth in this scandalous saga is just as hopelessly
lost as the weapons of mass destruction in Iraq and
Rose’s flummoxing flip flop makes Trent Lott’s
stunning eleventh hour support for affirmative action
look like a toddler’s birthday shindig.
In the end, it turned out that Rose
was justifiably banished from baseball and therefore
fittingly cordoned off from the prestigious baseball
hall of fame.
With his admission of guilt, should
Rose, 62, be welcomed back into the fraternity of professional
baseball? As a manager? Into the hall of fame? Both?
Well, I’ll tell you this much.
He ain’t getting my vote. I’m not yet convinced
that this guy is sincere about shedding his old skin
or showing a dollop of candid remorse for the lie he
perpetuated, let alone the indelible scar he inflicted
on the game he claims he loves so much. Echoing a similar
sentiment in his piece for ESPN.com, Peter Gammons writes,
“As far as I’m concerned, Rose can go to
Cooperstown and sign tawdry items for those who, like
him, have no respect for integrity, baseball or the
hall of fame…he does not have my vote.”
Rose’s entire demeanor bespeaks
a profound farce that easily flunks a basic test of
credibility. I’m just not convinced yet. If anything,
he’s done a remarkable job parading his arrogance
and peddling his new book, in a manner that is despicably
disrespectful to professional baseball and its authority.
Just why is he fessing up now, anyway?
Was money a factor? You bet! This is
all about money. This is all about Pete Rose and his
burning desire for a speedy recrudescence out of his
professional doldrums and tormenting obscurity.
With many of his friends and associates
unrelentingly urging him to exploit this ordeal, Pete
Rose was in the end willing to spill the beans faster
than you can say book deal.
Next to money is the rapidly dwindling
hope for his hall of fame induction, particularly in
light of the eligibility requirement that leaves him
with just two years to work out a deal with commissioner
Bud Selig.
In essence, this stunning confession
in part represents a last gallant shot at initiating
a final push for induction into the baseball hall of
fame.
Granted, the truth has finally been
revealed, we hope. His fate now precariously resides
in the hands of Bud Selig, Baseball Writer’s Association
and Veteran’ committee. Still, to think that Rose
lied about this for 14 years is profoundly galling.
It truly makes him one heck of a liar, one with an incredible
staying power. Similarly appalling and scandalous is
the outrageous sense you get from his remarks that this
guy feels entitled to a reward, quick exoneration or
at the very least a pat on the back for finally coming
clean after 14 years of stone cold denial that he bet
on baseball.
One thing is for sure, and that is the
fact that this revelation was purely motivated by a
deep-seated desire to get paid. Pete Rose didn’t
wake up one morning a born-again Pete who suddenly realized
that lying was bad. Rather, I believe that this is nothing
but a sick slick ploy to profit from the brazen lie
he told.
And you would think that Rose might
choose his words warily as he embarks on the tedious
task of mending the deeply fractured fences with the
baseball fraternity. Also, you would think that basic
display humility and candid expression of contrition
would lead the way in this raucous journey back into
baseball. But from what we know thus far, Rose is yet
to offer a straight apology devoid of baffling hints
of sarcasm and air of superciliousness.
At best, his contrition has been limited
to desultory and feeble utterances of regret that he
bet on baseball, often offered under a glaring banner
of arrogance that belies the very purpose for his stunning
revelation.
“For the last 14 years I’ve
consistently heard the statement: ‘If Pete Rose
came clean, all would be forgiven.’ Well, I’ve
done what you’ve asked…” said Rose.
That’s very good. His candor is
appreciated. Still, it would have been prudent for him
to drastically tame his caustic and sickening pomposity
and self-righteousness to make room for a modicum of
humility and contrition, if only for his fans who steadfastly
stood with him at his time of despair and through his
years of dogged lies.
Did you bet on baseball? Yes, responded
Rose. Would you like to apologize to Fay Vincent, Bart
Giamatti and John Dowd? No, he quipped. Yet the same
Rose went on to say, “I wish I could take it back.”
Well, you can’t take back 14 years worth of lies.
That’s precisely why an elaborate and heartfelt
apology is the next best thing to do. Then again, maybe
one is tucked somewhere on the 322 pages of his new
book. You just have to buy the book to find out!
For what it’s worth, NBA rookie
star LeBron James was just 5 years old when Pete Rose
embarked on his fib trip that lasted for 14 years.
