Before They Judge, Put Him on Ballot

Ten men will meet in New York Thursday to determine whether the name “Pete Rose” will appear on baseball’s 1992 Hall of Fame ballot.

Ten men will thrash it out and hash it over until they conclude not whether the name “Pete Rose” belongs on a bronze plaque in Cooperstown, N.Y., but whether it even deserves to be placed in nomination.

America . . . Is this a great country or what?

We could vote, if we cared to, for or against more than one player on the most recent Hall of Fame ballot who violated national and international drug-traffic laws, among them Ferguson Jenkins and Orlando Cepeda.

We could vote, if we cared to, for or against a pitcher, Gaylord Perry, who freely acknowledged the usage of illegal substances on the baseballs that he hurled toward home plate.

We could not vote, because his name does not appear on the ballot, for or against Joseph Jefferson (Shoeless Joe) Jackson, who had a lifetime batting average of .356 and was acquitted in a courtroom of the only crime of which he was ever accused.

And we might not be able to vote, should his name not appear on next year’s ballot, for or against Peter Edward Rose, who played in the majors for 24 seasons and got more hits than any man who ever lived.

I am not necessarily saying that I would vote for Pete Rose, although I probably would.

I just don’t want to be told that I can’t.

Pete Rose, who is paying his so-called “debt to society,” was released from prison Monday but remains under lifetime suspension from returning to any active role in major league baseball, pending application for reinstatement.

The question at hand is this: Should any baseball figure under suspension from baseball be entitled to consideration for the Hall of Fame?

This committee of 10 that convenes Thursday includes former American League President Lee MacPhail, Cooperstown official Edwin Stack and two members of the Baseball Writers Assn. of America (BBWAA), the organization that for more than half a century has conducted the vote for the Hall.

They will recommend whether Citizen Rose deserves due process.

One would think that 24 years of honorable conduct during his playing days would at least grant Rose a fair hearing, particularly considering the number of modern players who have gotten themselves into hot water, in one way or another.

There are a number of perfect little angels in Cooperstown--now among them an Anaheim one, Rod Carew--but also there are more than a few little devils, players whose off-the-field habits were not held against them.

Convicted felons? No, not to my knowledge. But convicted felons are not forbidden from playing baseball.

What would have happened, Hall of Fame-wise, had Ron LeFlore, an ex-con, gone on to even greater glory after amassing a lifetime batting average of .288 and once stealing 97 bases in a season? Or what would have happened to 30-game winner Denny McLain if he had been voted into the Hall and then sent to prison for racketeering?

I don’t know what makes voters justify their love for the clean-living (to the best of our knowledge) Jim Palmer, who won 268 games in 19 seasons, but not for Jenkins, who won 284 games in 19 seasons, or for Perry, who won 314 games in 22 seasons.

Palmer was elected last year in his first time on the ballot.

I don’t know what makes voters vote for the clean-living (see above) Joe Morgan, who hit .271 with 2,518 hits and 268 home runs, as opposed to Cepeda, who hit .297 with 2,351 hits and 379 home runs.

Morgan was elected last year in his first time on the ballot.

Did I vote for Palmer and Morgan?

Yes, I did.

Did I vote for Perry and Cepeda?

No, I did not.

Do I know why?

No, not entirely.

I did vote for Jenkins, who had six 20-win seasons, and I do know that it bothers me--perhaps sanctimoniously--that Perry admittedly cheated to win.

I did not vote for Cepeda only because I arbitrarily decided that the Baby Bull fell short, in my somewhat less than inestimable estimation, of Hall of Fame standards. (Morgan, for example, was a superior fielder and base stealer, led his team to seven league championship series and four World Series, and played five more seasons than Cepeda did.)

And Pete Rose?

To me, a baseball Hall of Fame without Pete Rose is a building that ought to be condemned.

But that is my opinion--one voter’s opinion--and mine only. I am prepared to accept fully Pete Rose’s nomination being rejected on the first ballot.

Just put the man on the ballot.

Judge him not, lest ye be judged.