Bill Conlin: No offense, but here are the Phillies you wouldn't want to marry your daughter

ASK AND YOU shall receive. You asked: "You gave us your All-Time Phillies Good Guys team from the 1950s . . . Now, what about the bad guys?" It's a slippery slope when you assign arbitrary negative labels to athletes based on personalities, demeanors and the dissonance that becomes pink noise in any baseball clubhouse. So, with apologies to anybody who might take offense, here are Bill Conlin's All-Time Phillies You Might Not Want to Marry Your Daughter.

Infield

Pete Rose: I had mixed emotions naming him because we had a great relationship dating to his Reds days. But I try to avoid writing revisionist history and Pete was who he was, the No. 1 overachiever in baseball history with an obsessive/compulsive personality to match. From a fat file of Rose moments, here is one: Pete had gone through a costly and public divorce from Karolyn. His main girlfriend and current wife,

Carol, was in the wives section behind first base on Sunday, May 10, 1981. The Phillies were leaving for a Coast trip after playing the Expos. A banner plane circled Veterans Stadium when he was batting in the third inning. The message: "Peter Edward CU in SF - LUV Christy." Carol erupted from her seat. The Eagles cheerleader headed for the clubhouse, ready to give her man a little sis-boom-baboom.

John Kruk: Yep, he really did say, "I ain't an athlete, lady . . . " which is the title of the book he did with Paul Hagen after the 1993 season. I can't call the current ESPN baseball analyst a bad guy, but he was a very different one from the player who developed a warm, fuzzy image based on his unkempt, blue-collar, everyman persona. But he was a grouchy cynic who didn't much care for the media, fans or a number of teammates. "Kruk was a real bleep," Lenny K. Dykstra, scuffling entrepreneur, told me recently. I'm sure the feeling was mutual. Krukker's infamous bachelor party had everything but designated drivers. Dykstra ran into a tree weaving home with an unbelted Darren Daulton in the passenger seat and a Phillies season prematurely became history.