MLB commissioner Rob Manfred right to uphold Pete Rose' lifetime ban

Some baseball fans just help themselves when it comes to Pete Rose.

Since Rose's lifetime ban in 1989 for betting on baseball – a ban he agreed to - fans have made excuses for MLB's all-time hit king.

For some reason, they still want Rose to get into the Hall of Fame despite committing the biggest sin against the sport.

Stop it. It's not going to happen.

New Baseball commissioner Rob Manfred did the right thing this past week.

First, Manfred was nice enough even to allow Pete Rose an opportunity to make a case for his reinstatement.

Given the overwhelming evidence against Rose some commissioners wouldn't have even bothered.

Nonetheless, Manfred on Monday delivered an early Christmas gift that Rose and his fans didn't want: Rose's lifetime bans stands.

Honestly, it was the only logical decision.

In a press conference in Las Vegas, Rose admitted he put the commissioner in a tough spot.

"I'm a good guy, to be honest with you," said Rose, now 74. "I tried to be as honest as I could with the commissioner, but I made some mistakes and I clarified them. Some of the questions, though, I kind of panicked."

This isn't about forgive and forget. It's about right and wrong.

Knowing the harsh penalty - a lifetime ban - Rose bet on baseball when he was both a player and a manager. It's the ultimate sin against the game. Rose thought he was bigger than the game. He wasn’t. No one is.

When you gamble on the game, you mess with its integrity. Once that is lost, you have no game.

That's why when you walk into a MLB clubhouse you see a huge sign warning players against gambling.

The Black Sox scandal in 1919 almost killed baseball. Trust in the game was eroded. Fans weren't sure if what they were watching was real or fixed for gamblers. That's why the sport rightly refuses to go soft in these situations. 

Some thought MLB was softening on Rose because they let him take part in the All-Star Game in Cincinnati, the place he was born, the place that always loved him despite his betrayal of the game.

Baseball could have said no to Rose, even on this special occasion at Great American Ballpark. After all, the sport had been doing that for more than two decades after Rose accepted a lifetime ban for gambling on sport in 1989.

Instead, in middle America, Baseball allowed Rose to take a bow.

In a way, it was good that MLB looked the other way for a night. It was nice, a feel-good story. It's one Rose will always remember and cherish, especially if he never gets elected into the Hall of Fame.

But the home-cooking response he got that night doesn’t erase his crimes against the game.

Sure, it made Rose - a man getting older and older - feel loved, not the outcast some see him as.
Baseball, showing a human touch, bent the rules to fuel its' online promotion of fans picking the best four players in each team's history.

Rose was allowed to participate after he was voted in the "Franchise Four" for the Cincinnati Reds.
Before the All-Star Game broadcast nationally on Fox, the Reds team was announced on the field. The other 29 clubs were presented on a video screen to the sellout crowd.

First, Hall of Fame catcher Johnny Bench was named. There was a roar. Then, Hall of Fame shortstop Barry Larkin was announced. There was another roar. Hall of Fame second baseman Joe Morgan got his own roar.

Finally came Rose, the man with the most hits ever in baseball - 4,256, to be exact - the only man standing in front of the mound that wasn't inducted into Baseball's Hall of Fame.

It didn't matter to the fans there that night. They cheered. They roared. They continued to shower Rose with the love and admiration that was missing since his name turned to mud.

Rose admitted afterward that he got emotional during the brief ceremony. "You know, I've been going through this love affair for 30 years; the fans are great," said Rose to reporters. "I am glad I didn't go first."

Even fans who don't like Rose would have been hard-pressed to admit that Rose wasn't still beloved in Cincinnati. It was a moment suitable for framing.

But it was a moment, not a mandate.

Despite the ban, it's not like baseball has erased Rose from the game's history. His achievements and memorabilia are all over the Hall of Fame. There’s no asterisk next to his body of work.

It's clear. Rose was a great player who made a terrible mistake. And for that mistake, he shouldn't be honored with a Cooperstown ceremony. That's his punishment.

Rightfully so, Manfred agrees. Fans need to get onboard as well.
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