Post by Lark11 on Apr 26, 2012 0:13:06 GMT -5
Pete Rose - RedLegs Baseball HoF Inductee Class of 2011
Boston
World Series Game 7
"Losers. Pete Rose stomped the dirt off his cleats and marched through the dugout, a crazed look on his face. He stopped in front of each man, glared, his face a mask of rage, an angry drill sergeant, a harsh father, an unforgiving judge. In the moment, Rose hated every last one of these sons of bitches. He knew that, in the moment, they hated him too. But they did not hate him enough. They could not hate him enough. They could not hate him with the white-hot disgust that burned inside him right now. The Cincinnati Reds were going to lose. He could not believe it. Impossible. The Machine was going to lose. He already could feel the acid of defeat seething in his guts. He wanted to take a baseball bat to their heads. Yes, it was a problem. Nobody could hate quite as hard as Pete Rose.
'Bunch of losers,' Rose shouted. 'We can't lose this game! We will not lose this game!' His words echoed through the dugout, bounced out into Fenway Park, drowned in the roar.
....
'How could we come all this way to play like a bunch of losers?' Rose shouted.
...
'What the hell is wrong with this team?' Rose shouted, dusting off the dirt from his kamikaze slide. 'What the hell is wrong with you?' He paced back an forth, choking in the dust of the dugout, a lion in his cage. He slapped the knees of players. He pumped his right fist...'We're not going to lose this game,' Rose shouted. 'No way. You hear me? We are not losing tonight. You know what people are going to say about us? We're nothing. They'll say we're losers.'
Pete walked up and down the bench and looked hard at each player's face. 'We're not boinking losers!' He shouted."
--The Machine by Joe Posnanski
Pete Rose was a competitor. A man who hated to lose. A man who refused to lose. That competitiveness, for better and worse, came to define him as both a player and a person.
Rose was born in Cincinnati on April 14, 1941. He was the native son of the Queen City right from the start, which made it all the more appropriate that he was signed by the Reds as an amateur free agent in 1960. Rose came to embody those qualities with which the residents most identified. As City Councilman J. Kenneth Blackwell said about renaming a street Pete Rose Way, "It's a great way to celebrate what makes us Cincinnati: hard work, determination, and aggressiveness."
Pete Rose was a great ballplayer, but not the greatest of athletes. His baseball specific skills outpaced his raw tools, but it was his sheer force of will that permitted him to accomplish great things.
Rose's game was defined by his hustle, ability to rap out hits and get on base, and his defensive versatility. He played several defensive positions, acquitting himself well all over the field and continuing to hit. He always hit.
When it was all said and done, Rose had a slash line of .303/.375/.409/.784 with 746 doubles, 135 triples, 160 homeruns, and more walks (1566) than strikeouts (1143). Rose won the Rookie of the Year in 1963 and the NL MVP award ten years later. While he won the MVP in 1973, his best season was 1969 when he hit .348/.428/.512/.940 with 218 hits and 88 walks. Rose was a 17-time All Star and won 3 batting titles over the course of his illustrious career.
The Crowning of the Hit King
On September 11, 1985, Rose broke Ty Cobb's all-time hit record with his 4,192nd hit, a single to left-center field off of San Diego Padre pitcher Eric Show. Rose went on to collect 4,256 hits in his career, making him the all-time Hit King in Major League Baseball.
It wasn't just Rose's hitting ability that earned him that record, but his durability and longevity. Ultimately, Rose's longevity allowed him to break not only the all-time hit record, but also the record for games played, At Bats, and times on base. To maintain that type of longevity requires tremendous dedication and single-minded focus. Rose possessed both, as he was always thinking about hitting.
Once, the Reds team plane encountered heavy turbulence that scared even the flight attendants and the crew. As his teammates prayed and tried not to get sick, Pete Rose turned to teammate Hal King and said with a big grin, "If this plane goes down, I'm taking a lifetime .300 batting average with me. How about you?"
Banned from the Game He Loves
Unfortunately, like many athletes to follow, the characteristics that made Pete a great player would be his undoing as a person. The last few decades have really revealed what it takes to perform at the very highest level; an almost maniacal competitiveness.
The public has been able to peak behind the curtain to see how greatness is made; whether it's Michael Jordan's competitive, petty Hall of Fame induction speech, Barry Bonds' desire to outdo the steroid aided achievements of Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa, or Roger Clemens' almost pathological belief that he could alter reality and defeat the legal charges against him through sheer force of will. Ultimately, the supreme confidence and maniacal competitiveness that created some of the best athletes in our nation's history got them into trouble after their careers were over. Rose was no different.
As his baseball career wound down, Rose sought out new ways to feed his competitiveness. In 1989, then commissioner Peter Ueberroth and his soon to be replacement Bart Giamatti questioned Rose about allegations that he had bet on baseball. When Giamatti became commissioner, lawyer John M. Dowd was retained to investigate the charges against Rose. The end result of the investigation was the Dowd Report, which documented Rose's bets on 52 Reds games in 1987 and determining that he wagered a minimum of $10,000 per game.
On August 24, 1989, Pete Rose, despite denying all allegations, voluntarily accepted a place on baseball's ineligible list. He remains there to this day. Rose, refusing to admit what he had done, elected to deny and deny and deny, believing that he could beat the charges through sheer force of will. It worked throughout his baseball career, why wouldn't it work in real life?
Rose continued to stonewall until January 2008 when he admitted his betting in an autobiography. Through his admission, Rose hoped to advance his Hall of Fame chances, but the reversal of 15 years of denials and the fact that he profited from his admission caused further outrage.
If Rose had simply admitted what he had done and accepted his punishment, he undoubtedly would have been forgiven and inducted into the Hall of Fame. But, the qualities that made him great between the lines would not let him accept defeat outside the lines. His owner inner drive and competitiveness took him to the highest highs of professional baseball, but later dragged him to the lowest lows of exile from the game he so loves.
Boston
World Series Game 7
"Losers. Pete Rose stomped the dirt off his cleats and marched through the dugout, a crazed look on his face. He stopped in front of each man, glared, his face a mask of rage, an angry drill sergeant, a harsh father, an unforgiving judge. In the moment, Rose hated every last one of these sons of bitches. He knew that, in the moment, they hated him too. But they did not hate him enough. They could not hate him enough. They could not hate him with the white-hot disgust that burned inside him right now. The Cincinnati Reds were going to lose. He could not believe it. Impossible. The Machine was going to lose. He already could feel the acid of defeat seething in his guts. He wanted to take a baseball bat to their heads. Yes, it was a problem. Nobody could hate quite as hard as Pete Rose.
'Bunch of losers,' Rose shouted. 'We can't lose this game! We will not lose this game!' His words echoed through the dugout, bounced out into Fenway Park, drowned in the roar.
....
'How could we come all this way to play like a bunch of losers?' Rose shouted.
...
'What the hell is wrong with this team?' Rose shouted, dusting off the dirt from his kamikaze slide. 'What the hell is wrong with you?' He paced back an forth, choking in the dust of the dugout, a lion in his cage. He slapped the knees of players. He pumped his right fist...'We're not going to lose this game,' Rose shouted. 'No way. You hear me? We are not losing tonight. You know what people are going to say about us? We're nothing. They'll say we're losers.'
Pete walked up and down the bench and looked hard at each player's face. 'We're not boinking losers!' He shouted."
--The Machine by Joe Posnanski
Pete Rose was a competitor. A man who hated to lose. A man who refused to lose. That competitiveness, for better and worse, came to define him as both a player and a person.
Rose was born in Cincinnati on April 14, 1941. He was the native son of the Queen City right from the start, which made it all the more appropriate that he was signed by the Reds as an amateur free agent in 1960. Rose came to embody those qualities with which the residents most identified. As City Councilman J. Kenneth Blackwell said about renaming a street Pete Rose Way, "It's a great way to celebrate what makes us Cincinnati: hard work, determination, and aggressiveness."
Pete Rose was a great ballplayer, but not the greatest of athletes. His baseball specific skills outpaced his raw tools, but it was his sheer force of will that permitted him to accomplish great things.
Rose's game was defined by his hustle, ability to rap out hits and get on base, and his defensive versatility. He played several defensive positions, acquitting himself well all over the field and continuing to hit. He always hit.
When it was all said and done, Rose had a slash line of .303/.375/.409/.784 with 746 doubles, 135 triples, 160 homeruns, and more walks (1566) than strikeouts (1143). Rose won the Rookie of the Year in 1963 and the NL MVP award ten years later. While he won the MVP in 1973, his best season was 1969 when he hit .348/.428/.512/.940 with 218 hits and 88 walks. Rose was a 17-time All Star and won 3 batting titles over the course of his illustrious career.
The Crowning of the Hit King
On September 11, 1985, Rose broke Ty Cobb's all-time hit record with his 4,192nd hit, a single to left-center field off of San Diego Padre pitcher Eric Show. Rose went on to collect 4,256 hits in his career, making him the all-time Hit King in Major League Baseball.
It wasn't just Rose's hitting ability that earned him that record, but his durability and longevity. Ultimately, Rose's longevity allowed him to break not only the all-time hit record, but also the record for games played, At Bats, and times on base. To maintain that type of longevity requires tremendous dedication and single-minded focus. Rose possessed both, as he was always thinking about hitting.
Once, the Reds team plane encountered heavy turbulence that scared even the flight attendants and the crew. As his teammates prayed and tried not to get sick, Pete Rose turned to teammate Hal King and said with a big grin, "If this plane goes down, I'm taking a lifetime .300 batting average with me. How about you?"
Banned from the Game He Loves
Unfortunately, like many athletes to follow, the characteristics that made Pete a great player would be his undoing as a person. The last few decades have really revealed what it takes to perform at the very highest level; an almost maniacal competitiveness.
The public has been able to peak behind the curtain to see how greatness is made; whether it's Michael Jordan's competitive, petty Hall of Fame induction speech, Barry Bonds' desire to outdo the steroid aided achievements of Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa, or Roger Clemens' almost pathological belief that he could alter reality and defeat the legal charges against him through sheer force of will. Ultimately, the supreme confidence and maniacal competitiveness that created some of the best athletes in our nation's history got them into trouble after their careers were over. Rose was no different.
As his baseball career wound down, Rose sought out new ways to feed his competitiveness. In 1989, then commissioner Peter Ueberroth and his soon to be replacement Bart Giamatti questioned Rose about allegations that he had bet on baseball. When Giamatti became commissioner, lawyer John M. Dowd was retained to investigate the charges against Rose. The end result of the investigation was the Dowd Report, which documented Rose's bets on 52 Reds games in 1987 and determining that he wagered a minimum of $10,000 per game.
On August 24, 1989, Pete Rose, despite denying all allegations, voluntarily accepted a place on baseball's ineligible list. He remains there to this day. Rose, refusing to admit what he had done, elected to deny and deny and deny, believing that he could beat the charges through sheer force of will. It worked throughout his baseball career, why wouldn't it work in real life?
Rose continued to stonewall until January 2008 when he admitted his betting in an autobiography. Through his admission, Rose hoped to advance his Hall of Fame chances, but the reversal of 15 years of denials and the fact that he profited from his admission caused further outrage.
If Rose had simply admitted what he had done and accepted his punishment, he undoubtedly would have been forgiven and inducted into the Hall of Fame. But, the qualities that made him great between the lines would not let him accept defeat outside the lines. His owner inner drive and competitiveness took him to the highest highs of professional baseball, but later dragged him to the lowest lows of exile from the game he so loves.