Growing up in Arkansas, I had no geographic affinity for any professional sports teams. I was free to pick and choose my favorites based on such key criteria (for an 8-year-old) as “cool helmets” (hello Oakland Raiders) and “unique court design” (Boston Celtics). In those prehistoric times, the only exposure to televised baseball was the NBC’s Saturday afternoon “Game of the Week” with broadcasters Curt Gowdy and Tony Kubek.
The Cincinnati Reds were on the Game of the Week quite often back then — it was the era of the Big Red Machine — and I fell head over hillbilly boots for Joe Morgan, Johnny Bench, Tony Perez, Davey Concepcion…
But my favorite player by far was Pete Rose. A gritty grinder, tough as nails. “Charlie Hustle.” I remember when he was Sports Illustrated’s Sportsman of the Year.
The accompanying article in SI mentioned how Pete was so obsessed with getting better at the game that he had a satellite dish installed at his house so he could study opposing pitchers. (With the gift of hindsight, we now know the satellite TV was just a way for him to track his bets.)
My friend Ned and I were at Riverfront Stadium in September of 1985 when Pete broke Ty Cobb’s record.
All hail the new Hit King!
Less than a year later, I got my first real job, working in the marketing department at Turfway Park, a thoroughbred racetrack in Northern Kentucky. Imagine my sheer elation when Pete Rose showed up in the press box where I worked. The 8-year-old inside me was doing cartwheels: “OhmygawditsPete! Pete! Right here! Be cool! Don’t say anything stupid…”
My joy lasted about as long as a six-furlong race. I realized Pete was a bit of an entitled jerk, and clearly hooked on gambling. My bosses allowed him and his cronies (muscle-headed butt kissers – and as we later found out, Pete’s errand boys for booking his bets) and their pneumatic girlfriends/spouses to hang out in the press box, with free food and beverages, because they were really good at increasing the track’s daily receipts. Finally, their loud, boorish behavior got to be too much for those of us trying to earn a living at the track the hard way, so management moved them to another smaller spot (“The Rose Room”) adjacent to the press box. (We could still hear them hooting and hollering, but it was muffled.)
A few years later, Pete was back on the cover of Sports Illustrated, but for a totally different reason:
I didn’t need the results of the official MLB investigation. There was NO doubt in my mind that Pete bet on baseball while he was the manager of the Reds.
“Never meet your heroes” is the old adage, and in this case it certainly was true. Pete was always unabashedly, and unapologetically, Pete, for better or for worse. And it was usually worse. If he could’ve just walked away from the seamy underbelly of sports, he might’ve earned a bit of forgiveness from both MLB and the general public. But that same hard-nosed persistence that made him such a tough out on the field worked against him off it. He set up camp at every casino and race track in the country, selling autographs so he could wager that money right back to his hosts.
Yes, as countless others have already mentioned, now MLB is in cahoots with the gambling that was once so verboten.
But rules are rules, and Pete broke them, and lied about breaking them… he only came “clean” when it helped him sell more books.
I DO think Pete belongs in the Hall of Fame for his feats on the field. This Substack post from Mark Whicker does a nice job profiling a warts-and-all version of Pete. Money quote:
The baseball Hall needs Rose the way the country music Hall needs George Jones or the chess Hall needs Bobby Fischer. It’s not the Hall of Well-Adjusted People. It should be the place where players of impact are recognized. There is no question that baseball was a brighter, richer place because Pete Rose was at its core, or that people who didn’t know a slider from a playground slide knew who Rose was, and that if we all loved what we did the same way Rose loved the game, our national GDP would be unmeasurable.
R.I.P. Charlie Hustle. I’ll always admire your baseball skills, but your off-the-field antics took the bloom off the Rose.
One year ago today, we lost our dear friend Ned. (The “we” in this case includes the countless people Ned befriended during his too-short time on earth.)
I’m reposting my tribute to Ned from last October below. And adding a few more thoughts:
Be kind to everyone you meet, from the cashier at the supermarket on up, like Ned was.
Be caring, like Ned was. Ask others how they are doing.
Be faithful, like Ned was. A devoted husband, a proud parent, and a true-blue friend.
Be open to adventure, like Ned was.
If we could all be a bit more like Ned, the world would be a much better place. And to those of us who were lucky enough to know Ned, our part of the world IS a better place than it was before he came into our lives.
Photographs and Memories (from oct. 2023)
Back in my college days, if we needed someone to get swung around like a helicopter blade during a party, Ned was there.
If we needed someone to dress up like an elf, Ned was there.
Getting handcuffed to a loft? Ned was there.
Beer bongs? Ned was there.
For all of our Spring break adventures, Ned was there.
If we needed someone to man the grill, Ned was there.
At all those parties — in the dorm rooms, in the quad, and at the bars — Ned was there.
Whenever you needed a friend, Ned was there.
After college, when some folks from our gang got married, Ned was there.
At all the memorable moments over the past 40 years , Ned was there. Always.
Then, this past Monday, out of the blue, Ned was no longer there.
Suddenly — You were gone From all the lives You left your mark upon
Ned had a stroke back in May of 2020 – it caused all sorts of health complications. But his departure still came as a shock. Now he’s in another “there” and we’re still here.
Tried to believe But you know it’s no good This is something That just can’t be understood
Every one of us has a special place in our heart for the guy who was good-natured, sweet, kind, caring, smart, attentive, funny… and always up for a good time. Ned is still there. He always will be.
[Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. The man’s been keeping me down. – Ed.]
We did it!
We raised $1,400 for cancer research and care in Greater Cincinnati.
Sure, I was the one pedaling 24 miles in the Ride Cincinnati fundraiser. But I had lots of help.
[Actually I was out of town when the official event took place, but I did my ride the next day, and rode 25 miles, since my supporters went the extra mile for me.]
I had help from every single person who donated.
And my friends Phil and Suzie joined me on the 25-mile ride, which made it a heck of a lot easier and more enjoyable.
My inspiration and motivation was my friend John (a.k.a. “LJ”) who had a cancerous brain tumor removed back in May. Phil and Suzie have known John and his wife Patty since back in our college days, when Suzie and Patty were kicking butt as part of Xavier’s volleyball team.
We’re all connected. Not just John and Patty and Phil and Suzie and me and my donors… everyone has been impacted by cancer. Personally, or within their family, or within their social circle.
Just spokes on a big wheel – with love as the hub.
Yes, I still read comic strips. Not only that, but I also read blog posts from some comic strip creators (not the Dilbert guy, though…).
“Wayno” is the nom de plume for the guy who creates the weekday versions of Bizarro, a single panel strip created by Dan Piraro (who still does the Sunday version). Wayno just won the National Cartoonists Society award for Best Newspaper Panel. Here’s a recent example of his work:
A twist on the ol’ banana peel joke… with a tribute to music/pop art thrown in for good measure:
No wonder Wayno won!
But that’s not why we’re here today. We’re here because of Wayno’s blog. This recent post really hit home for me. It starts with a Captain Beefheart quote:
Art is rearranging and grouping mistakes.
Don Van Vlietaka Captain Beefheart
Don Van Vliet was eminently quotable, though much of what he said could be puzzling, as he had his own manner of forming thoughts and constructing sentences. The line we’re sharing here is straightforward and relatable. It’s also a valuable bit of advice.
My take is that experimentation and editing are required to produce art, and that it’s rarely created fully-formed. The most important step in creating any type of art is starting with something—a mark on a piece of paper or a couple of words, and building from there, keeping what works and setting aside what doesn’t. In fact, getting to a satisfying (if not great) work of art requires making countless mistakes.
It’s so true. And it echoes advice from other creators – Seth Godin’s “ship your work” and Steven Pressfield’s exhortation to fight “the resistance” by doing the work, and Anne LaMott’s concept of “sh*tty first drafts.”
If you want to make something great, start by making something. It might be awful… in fact it probably will be awful. But you’ll learn as you go – merrily screwing up along the way.
Trust the process – and mistakes are an integral part of the process.
Those great Danes in Copenhagen came up with a great idea this summer: tourists could earn rewards (free lunch, tickets to a museum, etc.) for doing something good for the environment (cleaning the beach, riding a bike instead of driving, etc.) while they were visiting the city. You can read more in this piece from The Guardian.
Thanks to cheap airfare and immediate access to travel info, the world is a lot smaller these days. But that often means the most beautiful destinations around the globe are in danger of being trampled by tourists.
Kudos to Rikke Holm Petersen and the other folks at Visit Copenhagen who dreamt up the CopenPay pilot project and brought it to life.
“We want to make tourism a force for positive change not an environmental burden,” she says. “We want to inspire a greener mindset in tourists while they are visiting Copenhagen and [for them] to take that home with them.”
It’s the best of both worlds for our shared world. Tourists (Rikke Holm Petersen prefers the term “intermediate locals”) get to explore and enjoy the city, while also doing something positive that reminds them — in a gentle way — of the environmental impact of their travels.
More ideas like this, please! Maybe it’ll lead to fewer scenes like this:
Kevin Sullivan on Life advice from a man who lived it: “A good one Damian. Bring our lens into focus after the long weekend or our long life journey.” Jul 7, 09:38
Thomas Kuhl on We’re alive, because nothing happened.: “That is why we should celebrate every day when our feet hit the floor. Another to enjoy and share with…” Jun 25, 04:33
Thomas Kuhl on We’re alive, because nothing happened.: “This simply explains why we should celebrate every day our feet hit the floor. Another day to enjoy and share…” Jun 25, 04:31
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