Charlie's oldest hustle

Breeze Reader's View

Pete Rose has just penned a brand new book with ghostwriter Rick Hill entitled "My Prison Without Bars." The media frenzy surrounding the release has been astounding. What is not as astounding is the revelation that is the book's main selling point — Pete Rose finally has admitted to the world that he bet on baseball while he managed the Cincinnati Reds.

As fate would have it, 14 years ago, Pete Rose wrote another book (this time with ghostwriter Roger Kahn) entitled "My Story." In "My Story," Rose vehemently denied ever betting on baseball and said the investigation against him was based on hearsay.

For years, Rose maintained his innocence in the face of journalists, television cameras and friends. I guess it was part of Rose's sentence in "Prison" that he was forced to retell the same lie thousands of times.

Now Rose is extending his hand to baseball and he's waiting for a shake. Let bygones be bygones. Surely, if Rose wants to mend his ways, he would be apologetic in his book. Think again.

Here is an excerpt that highlights Rose's feelings toward his past improprieties against the game of baseball: "I'm sure that I'm supposed to act all sorry or sad or guilty now that I've accepted that I've done something wrong. But you see, I'm just not built that way. So let's leave it like this: I'm sorry it happened and I'm sorry for all the people, fans and family it hurt. Let's move on."

Apparently, the rest of society has the capacity for contrition, but poor old Rose just wasn't "built that way." It has been pointed out numerous times that Rose uses the word "it" rather than "I" twice when talking about his gambling and the subsequent investigation that forced him out of baseball.

Only someone with an enormous ego could so effectively distance himself from the responsibility of a situation he caused. Considering that Rose has had 14 years to make this apology, it shouldn't be surprising that he no longer feels sad or guilty. Chances are Rose never felt that way.

To understand why Rose is confessing his sins now, you have to understand his primary motivations for exposing himself — money and legacy.

"Prison" already has created so much buzz it almost certainly is going to bring in millions for Rose. It may be that Rose needs this money badly, considering his gambling left him in some serious financial peril.

Rose's apology is the main platform for his campaign to get into the Hall of Fame. In fact, any choreographed action that Rose has performed in the past dozen years, such as the release of this book, has been an attempt to get back into baseball and into the Hall of Fame.

Unfortunately (or fortunately), Rose has a limited timetable with which to work. Assuming he gets reinstated by the commissioner, Rose has until 2005 to be elected into the Hall by the baseball writers.

After 2005, Rose's fate is in the hands of the Veterans Committee. According to popular belief, Rose stands almost no chance to get in with the Veterans, so he's making his stand here and now with two years left to get in and with sand falling quickly down the hourglass.

Those who are compassionate to Rose's sobstory point out that there are numerous cretins and lowlifes already in the Hall.

True as this might be, there is one underlying theme in this controversy. Rose broke baseball's golden rule — Rule 21 under the Major League Baseball Player's Association contract: "Any player, umpire or club or league official or employee who shall bet any sum whatsoever upon any baseball games in connection with which the bettor has a duty to perform shall be declared permanently ineligible."

Rose spent nearly 30 years in clubhouses, each one of them with their own copy of Rule 21 hanging in plain sight for players, managers and umpires to see. If Rose is allowed into the Hall, it is in clear violation of a standard set forth by baseball. It's also an acknowledgement of Rose's status as the all-time hits leaders and the leverage that gives him.

This would not be an argument if Rose wasn't a great player and a hero to many; there would be no cameras to cover the story of a 14-year journeyman trying to work his way back into baseball's good graces.

Before we let the situation rest, think about the following two items: During the investigation in 1989, betting sheets were found in the Reds' clubhouse. The handwriting on those sheets have been matched to Rose's by FBI handwriting experts. Rose's former bookie has told anyone who will listen that Pete often called him from the clubhouse to bet on baseball.

Rose also says that while he bet on Cincinnati Red's games, he never bet against the Reds. Given Rose's admitted status as a compulsive gambler, how plausible is it that he would pass up all the insider information available to him as a manager when it gave him an unprecedented edge in betting?

To this day and within the covers of his new book, Rose continues to deny that he ever bet in the clubhouse or against his own team. The more I hear from him, the more Rose reminds me of someone trying to sell me the truth as he sees it. He's slowly filtered out what he's ready to admit when it is profitable for him. I just can't wait for the day 14 years from now when Rose's next book comes out. Maybe I can help him write it.