Does Pete Rose deserve to be in the Hall of Fame?

Much of it depends on what you think the Hall of Fame should be.

It always felt like this day would come at some point. Now, it’s here.

Pete Rose, Shoeless Joe Jackson, and every other deceased player who had been placed on MLB’s Ineligible List due to previous violations of some of baseball’s most sacrosanct rules, are reinstated and, moving forward, MLB Commissioner Rob Manfred says every player’s ineligible status will end once they are no longer living. That decision opens the door for two of the game’s most storied exiled players, Rose and Jackson, to appear on Hall of Fame ballots beginning in 2028. The announcement comes eight months after Rose’s passing.

One could argue that a former player’s death shouldn’t negate or diminish the reasons they were banned in the first place. Why should their death suddenly make them eligible? The sins they committed against the game aren’t washed away because they’re not longer alive. Why is this the new standard?

There appears to be more openness to Jackson’s eventual inclusion in the Hall, given there seems to be less certainty that he actually did what he was accused of doing — helping to throw the 1919 World Series.

While Jackson admitted to being one of eight players who took money from gamblers seeking members of his White Sox to throw the Series to the Cincinnati Reds, Jackson’s defenders note his 12 hits in that Fall Classic set a record that was not broken until 1964, and that he led both teams with a .375 batting average in the Series. Whether that will be enough to allow the man with the fourth-highest career batting average (.356) in MLB history entry into Cooperstown remains to be seen.

Rose’s case has been well documented, especially in Philadelphia, where he is still viewed by many as the missing link to their long-awaited first World Series title in 1980. His contributions to that team cannot be ignored, and there is no doubt that had he not placed bets on the team he managed and lied about it for 15 years after the fact, his 4,256 career hits would have made him a sure-fire, first ballot Hall of Famer.

Any time you dive into the Great Pete Rose Debate, you run the risk of making someone mad at you. It’s third rail of baseball discourse. A substantial number of Phillies fans, most of them of the generations that saw Rose play in Philly, make up the pro-Pete Rose contingent. The franchise itself put out a statement welcoming the news, as did the greatest player in franchise history, Mike Schmidt, Rose’s former teammate and close friend, who has long advocated for Rose’s banishment to end and for Rose to join him enshrined in Cooperstown.

But the anti-Rose contingent is not a vocal minority. Their arguments against induction are strong and robust.

Rose didn’t just place bets on baseball games. He placed bets on his own team as he was managing them. That he bet on them to win should not matter, as even voting on his team to win would influence how he used players, potentially putting their health in jeopardy. More disgusting are the allegations he engaged in a romantic and, later, sexual relationship with a woman who says he did so when she was 15.

The woman, identified as Jane Doe in 2017, said Rose called her in 1973, when she was 14 or 15, and they had sexual encounters in Cincinnati that lasted several years. She also alleged Rose met her in locations outside Ohio for sex.

Rose’s lawyer had said the woman’s claims are unverified.

Rose acknowledged in 2017 that he did have a relationship with the woman, but he said it started when she was 16, which is the age of consent in Ohio. He also said they never had sex outside of the state.

At the time, Rose was in his mid-30s and was married with two children.

In 2022, the team welcomed Rose back for a celebration of the team’s 1980 World Series title, postponed two years due to the coronavirus pandemic. When asked about the allegations of statutory rape, Rose’s response was disgusting.

Much of the debate over whether certain players should be in the Hall is determined by what you believe the Hall is/should be.

Is it strictly a museum, a building in which the history of the sport is laid bare, warts and all? Or is it a statement on the players themselves, an honor that should be strictly safeguarded? Certainly most fans, like me, believe a little of both, but I’ve always believed the Hall of Fame should serve as a baseball museum first and foremost, and that everyone whose careers were good enough to warrant their inclusion in the Hall should be there.

I would induct players like Jackson and steroid-era players who have been blacklisted by the BBWAA for using PEDs, and lay everything out about their careers, the accomplishments and the disgraces, for fans to see. Even if it paints the game in an unfavorable light, it is history. It happened. Keeping Barry Bonds, the game’s all-time home run champion, out of the Hall, or Roger Clemens, perhaps the greatest right-hander of all time, out of the Hall, doesn’t erase the immense roles they played in their eras.

I don’t like either player or what they did, but to ignore them is to ignore history. They, and most players whose play on the field warrant their inclusion, should be in the Hall. Create a special PED wing, an walking asterisk, if you wish.

Rose is the exception. As much as I appreciate his contributions to the Phillies during the five years he was here, and as much as his longevity and hitting prowess warrants his inclusion, there are some players whose off-field behavior simply should bar them from being honored in this way, even posthumously.

There is a display case noting Rose breaking Ty Cobb’s all-time hits record. In Rose’s case, that’s enough.

Rose died without knowing he would one day be taken off the permanently ineligible list, and perhaps that’s enough for some people to put him on a ballot and vote for him. I could see my way to voting for him if the gambling issues were the only black mark on his resume. But there’s so much more with Rose.

I would have loved for him to have been a better human being and for baseball’s all-time hits king to be enshrined in the sport’s preeminent museum. He should be in there.

But it’s his fault he isn’t, and that shouldn’t change just because he’s no longer alive.