That is Budspeak for, "Over the dead bodies of my great, great-grandchildren."
On May 9, 1989, Major League Baseball was presented with the Dowd Report, a 225-page investigation into allegations that Peter Edward Rose bet illegally on a number of sports, including baseball. The report was backed by packing crates of evidence that he had not only committed baseball's unpardonable sin, but surrounded himself with an entourage that included drug dealers, bookmakers and convicted felons.
Twenty years ago this Aug. 24, commissioner Bart Giamatti, who would die of a massive heart attack a week later, announced that Rose had voluntarily agreed to a lifetime ban. There would be no finding that he bet on baseball, however, despite pervasive evidence corroborated by the FBI that Rose had bet between $8,000 and $16,000 per day on baseball during the 1987 season, including bets on the Reds team he managed. Rose could apply for reinstatement after a year.
That was the suspension for a pathologically ill man, a compulsive gambler who turned to betting on his own game as the cheering faded. The narcotic of playing a daily game that had fueled his psyche during a 24-year career that produced 4,256 hits had been replaced by pushers disguised as oddsmakers.
When I knew him well as a Phillies player, Pete was betting on horses, greyhounds, college and NFL football, college and NBA hoops. Rose and Phils owner-to-be Bill Giles would run neck-and-neck in a 6-week Biggest Loser competition at Derby Lane, the St. Petersburg puppy palace.
I don't believe Rose was a compulsive gambler then, merely a garden variety obsessive-compulsive. The "W" was more important to him than the amount. I remember Pete on the phone one morning in spring training poring over the NCAA Tournament brackets. He was making his picks in a yearly head-to-head with a Philly sports columnist. The stakes were a buck a game.
