In 1984, Pete Rose was 43 years old, playing first base for a mediocre Montreal Expos team that would be far better off without an old man playing first base hitting .259 with an OPS of .629. The other Expos, their fans, and everyone connected with baseball knew that he was playing for one reason and one reason only -- to break Ty Cobb's record for most hits in a career. By August 16th, two-thirds of the way through the season, he had 4,062 hits in his career, 127 short of tying Cobb. In that two-thirds of a season, so far, he had only 72 hits, 64 of them singles.
A team can only carry a singles-hitting, 43 year-old, first baseman, who had not hit a home run in 2 years, with a batting average under .260, for just so long. That 128th hit, to break Cobb's record, looked insurmountable. To get the record, he had to keep playing every day, and he was fighting a losing battle with Father Time. The Expos could not keep playing him. It looked like the end of the road for Rose.
It turns out that there was only one manager foolish enough to pencil in a 43 year-old, singles hitting first baseman into a lineup.
And that manager was Pete Rose.
Marge Schott, the owner of the Reds (who would later be forced to sell her team after making some positive remarks about Hitler), decided to take him off of their hands. The Expos traded him to back to the Cincinnati Reds, to become a player-manager. He could write himself into the lineup every day if he wanted, long enough to break the record.
But at what cost?
I had been living in Burlington, Vermont, during the early and mid-1980's, voting for Bernie Sanders for Mayor every 2 years, and watching the Double A Reds farm team deliver to the majors the likes of Paul O'Neil, Barry Larkin, Kal Daniels, Eric Davis, Tracy Jones - they had good players coming up. Larkin, of course, became a Hall of Fame shortstop, but the rest of them either played outfield, first base, or both. Dave Parker was still productive, if getting on in years, in right field. So how do you get develop these players, who when they were not outfielders could get some at bats and provide some offensive power at first base, when first base was occupied by a geriatric singles hitter?
And that manager, he put himself in the lineup 194 times. That's more 60% played by the Reds, from August 17th, 1984, his first game with the Reds, through August 17th, 1986, exactly 2 years later,when he picked up a bat in a game for the last time. during that time. In those 194 games he started, he had 192 of his last 194 hits, the other 2 coming from 21 pinch hit at bats. In 738 at bats. And hit .263 over those 738 at bats. With 2 home runs in those 738 at bats. With a .321 slugging percentage.
But what did it cost his team to have an immobile, 43, 44 and finally 45 year-old first baseman, clearly out for himself, and not the team? Yes, the team was good .
In 1985, they won 89 and lost 72, finishing in second place, 5.5 games behind the Dodgers. They finished 2nd in 1986 as well. You could argue that what he did worked, because they did so relatively well. But here's the thing:
On the bench they had a young Paul O'Neil, who would mature to become a star with first the Reds, and then the Yankees. They had Kal Daniels, who would hit .320 and .334 in his first two years with limited playing time. They had a superstar in the making, Eric Davis, who could not find a full-time position in the outfield. And they had a young Nick Esasky who also had pop in his bat. But none of them could get enough playing time to put them over the top. Why? Because they had a 44 and 45 year-old, singles hitting first baseman who found it more important to get 4190 hits than it was to win.
Yes, he wanted to win. Yes, he wanted to get the hits. Which was more important? Clearly the hits. If not, someone else would have been in the lineup. Someone younger, who could run, and who had some pop in the bat. First base is a place where managers generally want someone, if they can't field, to hit with power. Rose could not.
The only manager who would possibly have wanted to put his bat into a lineup was himself.
So, yes, he bet on baseball. Yes, fans loved him in Cincinnati, and still do. Yes, he was fun to watch when he was younger. But he cost his team wins by being the only manager foolish enough, and selfish enough, to play himself instead of developing his young talent. Just like the Expos players and fans before, everyone knew that he was putting himself in the lineup to get the record. And when the record was his, he continued to play, continuing to stunt the growth of his players, the nucleus of whom, a few years later under Lou Pinella, would win the World Series, long after Rose was banished from the game.
In continuing to play himself, in being that selfish to act as it if was more important to get the record than it was to win, and more important to put himself on the field than to develop his players, he tarnished the game.
Long before we knew he bet on baseball.