Arguing about whether baseball gambler Pete Rose should be admitted into the Hall of Fame is like arguing about whether Britney Spears should wear white at her next Vegas wedding.
That’s a discussion about virtue. And whether we’re talking about a ballplayer banned for gambling or a cutie pop singer, virtue has nothing to do with it.
This is about professional entertainment, the kind you pay for in advance.
“I can’t change it,” Rose said, of his baseball gambling, in an interview on ABC. “It happened. And sitting here in my position, you’re just looking for a second chance.”
Rose’s admission that he gambled on baseball is almost as bad as lying to sportswriters, and it’s caused another one of those national hand-wringing contests.
“Skin him!” some shriek about Rose’s baseball gambling. “He sullied our pristine pastime! And he’s not contrite enough!”
“But he confessed to the gambling,” say others, “and he did it on TV, so shouldn’t we forgive him since he was such a great hitter?”
We baseball fans should admit that gambling isn’t the only problem.
Baseball is reportedly full of amphetamines and steroids, not to mention Flintstones vitamins.
In football, it’s the steroids too. In basketball, it might be pot and Nintendo. In hockey, it’s rye whiskey and beer. And, please, let’s agree not to discuss track and field and blood doping and chromosome tests and the ambiguous sexuality of certain female sprinters and swimmers in Olympiads past.
That’s entertainment.
So if the sports moguls don’t clean up their games soon, they might lose out to a televised pastime rapidly gaining popularity across the land.
It’s the World Series.
Of Poker.
A few weeks ago, Tribune colleague Steve Rosenbloom wrote an excellent piece about big-time poker tournaments, with pots worth millions of dollars. In it, he quoted James McManus, the author of “Positively Fifth Street,” a best seller on the championships held at Binion’s casino in Las Vegas.
“It’s the biggest sport in the world for the aging Baby Boomers who can’t get it done on the courts and field with much ardor,” McManus said. “You can watch the NFL and you can’t imagine yourself doing that. But anyone can win at these events.”
Well, not anyone.
Just because you can’t run a 4.3 forty doesn’t mean you can win at poker. You have to be mentally ruthless.
“It’s huge,” said a friend who plays cards and watches the World Series of Poker on TV. “Don’t you play?”
No, I said. I’m of Greek descent and stay away from gambling on genetic grounds, and because I once lost $200 at blackjack in 12 minutes at Atlantic City while writing an article about the corner men in prizefights, and I felt quite stupid.
But I have watched the poker players on TV, and more and more folks are watching too.
You can gamble in the World Series of Poker, and it’s not even against the rules.
You can probably do something stupid like take steroids, but while steroids might help you hit home runs or smash quarterbacks into the frozen tundra, they don’t necessarily make you a better card player.
You can drink rye whiskey or overload on espresso or even pickled herring if you wish, and you can’t be penalized. Gamblers don’t smoke much anymore. It’s bad for their image.
About the only thing you can’t do at the tables is cheat.
Since there are so many TV cameras on each table, it is almost impossible to cheat, although someone will try it and then get caught.
That’s when they take you out behind the kitchen and put your head into a vise. And they won’t care if you say you didn’t know what you were doing because you’d overdosed on pickled herring. They’ll just crank down on that vise.
But that’s poker.
In baseball, the news this week was that Anaheim Angels reliever Derrick Turnbow became the first major leaguer to enter the Steroid Hall of Fame by testing positive for a banned steroid.
“I didn’t know that what I was taking was going to make me fail a drug test, period,” the obviously unrepentant Turnbow told the Los Angeles Times.
He doesn’t sound contrite. But they won’t put his head in a vise. He’ll get treatment. The players have a powerful union. The owners closed their eyes to steroids in baseball because paying fans love those long home runs.
And Rose?
The ABC interview, his new book, the alleged contrition, all are part of a political campaign of sorts. Many sportswriters have forgiven him.
He’ll be in the Hall of Fame. Britney Spears will get married and unmarried again, and we’ll all be entertained.
Wanna bet?
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jskass@tribune.com
