For Patterson, Rose’s Bullets Are Preferable

“Was it touch-and-go there for a while?” someone asked.

“Yes,” Reggie Patterson replied. “They weren’t sure if I would ever pitch again.”

At the moment, nobody was discussing with the young Cub pitcher his having given up the 4,189th, 4,190th and 4,191st hits of Pete Rose’s career, the last one tying Rose with Ty Cobb on the all-time hit list.

No, just because he gave up a single to Rose on Friday and two more on Sunday, that was no reason for anyone to wonder if Reginald Patterson of Bessemer, Ala., would ever pitch again. He is a tall right-hander with a decent screwball who last summer won 14 games for Iowa in Triple-A.

But during the off-season, Patterson went to Venezuela to pitch some winter ball. His wife, Terry, went with him. And one November night in Caracas, she got sick. And Reggie went out for a walk to get her some medicine.

Three tough-looking guys with guns sprang from the shadows.

“Give us your money,” one of them said.

Patterson did.

“Take off your shoes,” the same guy said.

Patterson did.

“Now run,” the guy said.

Patterson did.

The guy shot him in the back.

The bullet passed right through him, just below his right shoulder blade. It broke four ribs on the way through. If it had lodged inside him, the damage could have been much worse.

Patterson crumpled onto the sidewalk. “I just kept lying there for a long time,” he said. “Nobody helped me. I guess nobody wanted to get involved. I was lying there asking for help, but nobody did anything.”

When Patterson finally got to a hospital, it took nearly five months for him to recover. Just this June, he underwent surgery to open a blocked nerve. That was the first time since the shooting that he could move free of pain.

“Does something like that make giving up a hit to Pete Rose seem sort of insignificant?” someone asked.

“Well, it brought me closer to God,” Patterson said.

On a rainy Sunday in a windy city, a 26-year-old rookie surrendered two hits to a man who has been batting in the majors for 23 years. After Patterson was removed from the game, there was a two-hour rain delay, so he was allowed to receive visitors in the Cub clubhouse. People wanted to know if giving up a record-tying hit was the biggest event of his life.

As they found out, it was not.

Patterson did not even learn until noon that he was going to start the 1:20 game. Steve Trout, the scheduled starter, fell off his bicycle Saturday night and hurt his hand. When the Cubs switched to a right-hander, Rose chose to play.

Having worked in relief on Friday, yielding a single to Rose in the process, Patterson did not expect to pitch again so soon. But he had no objections. Facing Rose did not intimidate him, he said, and, as a matter of fact, added, “I think he’s the greatest player in the history of baseball.”

Quietly, usually in one-sentence answers, Patterson fielded questions. How did he feel about allowing the hit? “It’s all part of the game.” Are you excited to be part of this? “Sure, I am.” Did he realize the home crowd was rooting for Rose? “I think they were pulling for me as well as him.” What did you say to Rose when he got to first base? “Way to hit the ball.”

Leon Durham, the Cub first baseman, had approached the mound after Rose’s record-tying single whooshed past him into right field. “Pete’s gonna be buying you a steak dinner,” Durham said.

Did Patterson intend to collect? “I’ll wait for him to offer,” he said softly.

He had thrown Rose almost nothing but screwballs. First time up, hitting left-handed, Rose dumped a single into left-field. In the third inning, he rolled out to second.

In the fifth, Patterson got two quick strikes on Rose, then bounced two pitches in front of the plate. After the count ran full, Rose yanked a screwball past Durham into right for hit No. 4,191.

Patterson acknowledged that it was “a history-making event” and said he admired Rose because “he’s a total ballplayer. He goes out every day and goes hard and gives 100%.”

Just then, Durham strolled by and shouted in Patterson’s direction: “Some guys will do anything to get in the record book.”

Patterson covered his face with his palms and smiled. It was the first emotion he had shown all day.

Lary Sorensen was far more animated. He pitched against Pete Rose next, running the count full and then getting him on a hard grounder to short.

Someone asked Sorensen: “Do you feel lucky or left out?” He replied: “Both. You want to be part of something like this, but for the rest of your life people say, ‘Oh, yeah. You’re the guy who gave up Rose’s hit.’

“I guess all I wanted to do was throw strikes,” Sorensen said, starting to laugh. “I didn’t know what the crowd might do to me if I walked him. Somebody might have a grenade up there.”

Reggie Patterson had made no such joke.