PETER EDWARD Rose's many baseball accomplishments are well-documented in the Baseball Hall of Fame, so the outcry over his lack of representation is a little out of whack.
Charlie Hustle was generous during his long, storied career, delivering all kinds of memorabilia to Cooperstown - except, of course, the bat he used to break Ty Cobb's hits record, one of his World Series rings and the Hickok Belt he won in 1975.
He sold these items to bookies.
But the story of baseball in Cooperstown, N.Y., definitely includes Rose, even if his official induction and plaque do not exist. Yet.
Perhaps Rose may finally confess his heretofore unpardonable sin: betting on baseball.
Talk about a pay-per-view event. A possible confession by Rose appears to be looming on our sporting horizon. We can only imagine where this confession will take place. Halftime at the Super Bowl would be good. Rose could fly in by helicopter and drop in by rope on the 50-yard line, just like Diana Ross.
Or perhaps commissioner Bud Selig and Rose could stage this brewing mea culpa before tip-off at this spring's NCAA championship basketball game. By that point of March Madness, we'll all be in the gambling spirit, broken office-pool brackets and all.
With news about the latest Rose-Selig meeting on Nov. 25, it appears as if baseball's zero tolerance on betting is up for review. Those sands of time have worked on Selig. Otherwise, why would he and Rose be negotiating terms for Rose's potential reinstatement?
The groundswell is deafening: If only Rose would admit his gambling, then everything would be OK.
But would it?
Somehow, those sands of time have worn down a central truth about what happened between Rose and then-commissioner Bart Giamatti 13 years ago, when baseball stuck to its guns and reaffirmed one of its ironclad rules: Players or managers who bet on their sport undermine the integrity of competition and therefore will not be tolerated.
Gambling, like the abuse of alcohol and drugs, is an addiction for which gamblers want (and deserve) equal treatment. However, even recovering gambling addicts admit the consequences of an athlete or manager betting on games is of particular danger to the very essence of sport, where opponents trying to win a game produce a series of unpredictable plays.
This is why we love sports. Otherwise, we would all love "professional" wrestling.
From a gambling addict's point of view, especially ones who are not in denial (as is Rose) and who are active in their recovery (not Rose), it does seem unfair that a different standard is applied to athletes who are suspended for using drugs or alcohol.
In those instances, baseball (along with other leagues) has implemented policies and tests to provide second chances. Or seven chances, like the number given to drug-abusing pitcher Steve Howe.
The same sympathy or policies are not extended to people who gamble on games. That is why Rose miscalculated (in the egotistically grandiose way of a gambler in the grips of addiction) and whiffed so badly.
He not only bet on baseball - there is a mountain of evidence to support this conclusion - but Rose also denied it.
Gambling experts say there is another reason besides public pressure to re-evaluate the Rose situation.
"Baseball is delivering a mixed message. They want to help when someone has a drug or alcohol problem, but when it comes to gambling, they say you better not have a problem in this department," said Ed Looney, executive director of the Council on Compulsive Gambling in New Jersey.
"Baseball says Pete Rose is not a person of good character. Well, no one who is in the mode of an action gambler is of good character. When they stop, when they're in a state of recovery, they're of good character."
Maybe Selig has been listening to recovering gamblers and other people like Looney, who have called upon baseball to institute new policies to deal with gamblers like any other addicts.
Maybe these meetings between Selig and Rose are not all about Selig's swaying to public pressure because Rose keeps drawing long, loud ovations.
"Hall of Fame!" they chant, even though it is strange to make a distinction between allowing Rose into the Hall while still supporting his ban from baseball.
Why isn't Hall of Fame induction held to an even higher standard than eligibility for baseball? Sure, other Hall of Famers weren't angels, but Ty Cobb (bigot) or Babe Ruth (boozer and womanizer) were never hauled before the commissioner to review sins committed against the integrity of the game, as Rose was.
Of course, Rose's hits and hustle should make him eligible to be part of the Hall of Fame. It's his other actions that make him ineligible.
That was his choice, 13 unlucky years ago, when faced with a tome chronicling the evidence against him, Rose chose to ban himself from baseball forever rather than admit he had broken the most basic rule of the game.
If he's ready to confess, that's interesting. It has taken all these years for him to realize what so many gamblers finally realize - in the end, you aren't bigger than the game. It can rob you of everything dear to you.
The drastic, difficult and unpopular decision made 13 years ago should stand, no matter what soap opera or dog and pony show or soul-baring apology Selig and Rose concoct for their mutual benefit. It may still hurt, it may still stink, but the best interest of baseball was already served.