Malaka Of The Week: Pete Rose

I don’t follow the sporting news as closely as I once did. That’s why I missed the latest malakatude by former baseball superstar, degenerate gambler, and convicted felon Pete Rose. If there was a malakatude hall of fame he’d surely be a member. And that is why Pete Rose is malaka of the week.

On August 6th, the Philadelphia Phillies held a celebration of their 1980 World Series victory. Who celebrates a 42nd anniversary except for married people? It’s the Jasper anniversary. Say what? It’s a stone? Who knew? I’m sure Pete Rose doesn’t.

Anyway, the Phillies organization invited Pete Rose. He’s a rotten guest: the sort that doesn’t use a coaster and leaves the terlet seat up.

Here’s the play-by-play such as it is:

Rose, 81, was on the field in Philadelphia for the first time since the team called off plans to honor him with induction to its Wall of Fame in 2017 because of a woman’s claim that she had a sexual relationship with him when she was a minor in the 1970s.

“No, I’m not here to talk about that,” Rose said when Alex Coffey, a female baseball reporter for the Philadelphia Inquirer, asked him about it. “Sorry about that. It was 55 years ago, babe.”

Rose briefly told reporters (via the Associated Press): “I’m here for the Philly fans, I’m here for my teammates, I’m here for the Philly organization. And who cares what happened 50 years ago? You weren’t even born. So you shouldn’t be talking about it, because you weren’t born. If you don’t know a damn thing about it, don’t talk about it.”

We have a new rule courtesy of Pete Rose. If you weren’t born at the time of an event, you can’t talk about it. Call it the Rose Dictum:

Slavery? Can’t talk about it.

Civil War? Can’t talk about it.

Chicago Black Sox scandal? Can’t talk about it.

World War II? Can’t talk about it.

Of all the lame excuses offered by Peter Edward Rose, that’s the lamest yet. I can, however, talk about Pete Rose’s disgrace because I was born.

Cue Paul Simon song:

During his playing days, Pete Rose was beloved by sportswriters. He was successful despite limited talent, so they thought they could do what he did. They were wrong but it wasn’t like pretending you were Rose’s teammates Joe Morgan, Johnny Bench, or Mike Schmidt who were talented with a capital T. Rose was Charlie Hustle, the guy with the dirty uniform and even dirtier mind.

The nation’s sporting press turned on Pete Rose after he was banned for life from baseball by Paul Giamatti’s pop, Bart. If Rose had admitted to betting on baseball, he wouldn’t have been banned for life. He preferred to lie his way out of it. He’s not only a malaka, he’s a dipshit, dumbass, and other demeaning d words.

Pete Rose was a pariah in baseball until the 21st Century. He’s still banned from working in the game or being admitted to the Hall of Fame, but he’s allowed to disgrace grace the field for ceremonial purposes such as the Phillies’ Jasper anniversary.

The problem is that Pete Rose always embarrasses himself when he shows up. It’s Pete Rose’s world, we just live in it.

As the great sportswriter Joe Posnanski wrote:

As for those who might wonder why the Phillies changed their minds again and invited Rose in 2022, their explanation is, see, the Wall of Fame thing was an INDIVIDUAL award while this was a TEAM celebration, and you can see how that’s totally different, and blah blah blah. I’m sure they invited him because they knew many Philly fans would get a huge kick out of seeing Rose (he does have his fans) and they thought he wouldn’t turn the whole thing into an ungodly mess, with the Phillies being forced to apologize, with Rose being forced to apologize, with the whole celebration getting overshadowed.

 

*And then NBC Sports Philadelphia decided to let Rose on the broadcast to let loose a couple of expletives for a dumb story that entertained him, if no one else.

 

Heck, even Pete Rose should have known that this was a disaster waiting to happen, that he would get asked questions to which there are no good answers.

 

But everybody just let it happen, somehow thinking that it would turn out OK. Pete Rose was a great baseball player — not in 1980, but over his career — and many people will always love him for that and will always forgive him for anything he did and will always hope that this time he will rise to the moment.

 

But he never will. You can depend on Pete Rose. He will always let you down.

I would apologize for the extended quote, but Joe’s piece is behind a paywall, and he said it better than I can. It’s what the late Greg Peters of Suspect Device fame called “lazy quoting of better writers.”

Let’s swivel back to the original, offensive quote aimed at a sportswriter who had the temerity to be a woman who asked Pete Rose a question he didn’t want to answer: “It was 55 years ago, babe.”

Pete Rose is an asshole, babe.

Pete Rose is a selfish prick, babe.

Pete Rose is a liar, babe.

Pete Rose is a sexist pig, babe.

And that is why Pete Rose is malaka of the week, babe.

The last word goes to Bob Dylan followed by Bryan Ferry:

 

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