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As the NFL heads toward the usually anticlimactic Super Bowl and the NCAA
leaves the National Championship as muddled an Oklahoma State Heisman winner,
our thoughts turn to a season of
America’s pastime: overpriced tickets, boring games, a shallow pool of pitching
talent, overpaid punks, bought pennants, and sold pennant winners. Yes, it’s
time for Seligball, so break out the vivarin, grab some Vaseline, and be
prepared to get ridden again. And what better topic to start off the pre-season
pukefest with than Mr. Baseball himself, Charlie Hustler, aka Pete Rose. One of the fondest memories I have of my childhood is of Shea Stadium in the
spring. The weather warm, the beer warm, the Mets cold, and 55,000 people
chanting “Pete Rose sucks” in unison. Can’t this asshat just go away? Or are we
just hypocrites idealizing the “good ol’ days” when baseball was as pure as the
catholic schoolgirl next door who’s parents kept her locked in the basement when
she wasn’t in school? Who are we to judge a little proclivity toward gambling
when players use dangerous amounts of illegal steroids, not in order to win, but
in order to cash in on the next Steinbrenner Bronx lottery?
Gambling in baseball is not confined to this one idiot. The Texas Rangers
gambled $250M that one player would make up for their Little League pitching
staff. Bud Selig gambled with his life when he ended the All Star Game in a tie.
Chuck Finley gambled, poorly I might add, that his fastball would be good enough
for a feisty Tawny Kitaen. Finally, Darryl Kile gambled on eating ballpark food
and lost to a blocked coronary. So what a little dollar or thousand on a lousy
baseball game?
So while it is true that Pete Rose sucks, I say leave the man alone so he will
just shut his gaping maw and stop taking advantage of baseball fans by hyping up
books and appearing in public like some martyr of a long forgotten cause. Will
Selig reinstate him? Opening odds are 12:1. Gimme a call Pete!
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