COMMENTARY : Rose, Strawberry Turn Out to Be Two of a Kind

There was a night in San Diego when Darryl Strawberry was a kid with the New York Mets, and he hit two home runs against the San Diego Padres with that uppercut swing of his built for home runs the way sports cars are built for speed. Dick Williams was managing the Padres then, and when the game was over, they asked him what he thought of Strawberry, and Williams actually talked about a “young Ted Williams.” Strawberry never turned out to be Ted Williams, or anything close. If you had to compare him to any baseball immortal on Thursday, it would have been Pete Rose, and only because Strawberry might end up in jail.

This time, Darryl Strawberry is in the kind of trouble that 28 days in rehab does not make right for him. The indictment is charges of federal income tax evasion, and the government has already proved with Pete Rose that it does not care what kind of swing you have or how many times you are in the baseball record books. If they can prove you cheated on your taxes, you go to jail.

“He’s not guilty,” Strawberry’s lawyer says. We heard that from Rose’s people four years ago, until Rose finally stood in court and pleaded guilty to two charges of filing false tax returns. The bigger the name, the better the IRS likes it. A big baseball star behind bars is a much better deterrent for tax cheats than an audit.

Rose and Strawberry could not have been more different as players. Rose got everything out of his talent, and Strawberry never came close to doing that. But they might be alike in this way: Maybe they thought the rules did not apply to them, that they were above the law, because they could hit a pitched ball.

Maybe they are two more who thought their names made them bulletproof. Wouldn’t you? They both get paid a fortune just to sign those names. It turns out those signatures can get you indicted like a common criminal. Rose is an ex-con now, and there is a chance Strawberry is headed in the same direction. This is not the kind of trouble for which you just write a check. Pete Rose found out.

Rose came along before Strawberry, played half his career before the money in sports exploded because of free agency in the 1970s. Rose never came close to the kind of money Strawberry has made from baseball, even though he should have made more. Rose ended up with more hits than anybody else in baseball history, and he once figured out he had played in more winning games. He was always great with numbers but terrible with money.

By the time Rose broke Ty Cobb’s record for hits, the autograph and memorabilia businesses were booming, and he would have signed his name with both hands if he could have switch-hit with a ballpoint pen. It was said he even sold the bat he used to break Cobb’s record. Eventually, the IRS caught up with him. To the end, Rose thought he would beat the rap. He was Pete Rose. He was the all-time hit leader.

Now come the same kind of charges against Strawberry, a 32-year old member of sports’ Generation $. This is the generation of athletes with an outrageous sense of entitlement about every dollar coming to them. Strawberry made a fortune from the Mets and Dodgers. When the Dodgers effectively fired him this spring, they had to buy him out of his contract. Strawberry made about $5 million on that one, in a lump-sum payment. Then he signed with the San Francisco Giants. When the Dodgers and Giants were fighting for the title in the National League West, it was as if Strawberry was getting paid by both of them.

And whatever the money is, it is never enough, for any of them. It never surprises any of them that they get paid to sit there and sign their names.

It was always such a great name. Pete Rose had that kind of great baseball name, until he ended up with this prisoner I.D. number--01832061.