Pete Rose does NOT belong in the Hall of Fame. Ever.

Pete Rose, the most prolific hitter in Major League Baseball history, passed away earlier this week. He was 83. The man nicknamed “Charlie Hustle” played the game with an unmatched intensity. He would sprint to first base after drawing a walk at the plate. He once ran full-speed around the bases in an All-Star Game and plowed into the catcher – in a glorified exhibition contest. He was part of three World Series championships – two with the Cincinnati Reds, one with the Philadelphia Phillies.

Those are his statistics. And they are among the most stellar examples of his on-field resume.

But this, too, is also part of his resume. During his time as Cincinnati Reds manager, Pete Rose bet on baseball games. He bet on games that involved the team he coached. For this, he was suspended and later accepted a lifetime ban from Major League Baseball. And in that ban, he lost his chance for enshrinement in the Baseball Hall of Fame.

Today, there are calls for the Hall of Fame to induct Rose posthumously, saying that it was a tragedy that Rose could never enjoy such honors during his lifetime, and that now he has passed, let bygones be bygones and allow him his flowers. Even if the plaque honoring Pete Rose was to include his expulsion from the game for gambling, that’s a compromise some fans would accept.

Let me be clear on this. Pete Rose was one of the greatest baseball players of my generation. And that was a generation that grew up watching Henry Aaron and Willie Stargell and Carlton Fisk and Reggie Jackson.

But he also broke baseball’s most sacrosanct rule. He wagered on games while he was involved in the sport.

And for that, although his records and accomplishments and memorabilia are on full display at the Baseball Hall of Fame Museum – he does not deserve enshrinement in the sacred Hall of Fame.

This is my opinion, and I’m fully entitled to it.

And now I will defend my opinion.

People will gamble on anything. Get six horses in a row and bet on which one will cross the finish line in seven furlongs. Place your DraftKings or FanDuel parlay on which NBA star will score the first points of a game. Heck, I’ve even joked about Super Bowl parlay bets on whether the kicker would hit the uprights on a field goal attempt (Thanks, Harrison Butker).

But these are fans and spectators betting on the outcome of a particular event. There’s no way to predict with 100% certainty that the harness horse you bet on won’t break stride on the final turn. There’s no way to predict that the three-point jumper from your star shooting guard won’t clang off the rim. Unless …

Yeah, you know where I’m going on this. If you could convince that shooting guard to intentionally miss on the final moments of a game when his team’s up by one, because you’d lose money if the team beats the spread and wins by two … that’s an outside influence on a particular event. Same thing if you convince a jockey to lay off the whip on that super-fast chestnut gelding and have the horse come in second so that a longshot could help you win that big fat exacta.

And, sadly, professional sports are littered with players and coaches who have worked with gamblers to throw games or to shave points or to manipulate the outcome of events. CCNY (today City University of New York) should be known for their fourteen Nobel laureates; unfortunately, they’re known as the school whose basketball team was in the nexus of a point-shaving scandal in the early 1950’s.

In basketball, I once knew Tim Donaghy as a Continental Basketball Association referee who was the lead official for the CBA All-Star Game in Oklahoma City, at that time a CBA stronghold and one of the league’s most fervent fanbases. Today, Tim Donaghy is remembered for his involvement in the 2007 NBA betting scandal, where his calls helped determine the outcomes of close games to his benefit and to the benefit of gamblers.

And, of course, there’s professional baseball’s most famous gambling scandal, the “Black Sox” of 1919. The Chicago team that conspired with gamblers to throw the World Series. It’s why Eddie Ciccotte and Shoeless Joe Jackson have the statistics for Hall of Fame consideration, but will never be enshrined. They took away the chance that a game could be won or lost fairly, and replaced it with a nagging undercurrent of “Of course they won, the other team tanked to lose.”

And now we come back to Pete Rose. In his 2004 autobiography, Rose admitted to betting on baseball games while participating as the Cincinnati Reds’ manager. As Reds manager, he would certainly be privy to injury reports and scouting information that wasn’t readily available otherwise, and could make his bets accordingly. He also bet on his own team – the Reds – but rationalized that he only bet on the Reds to win. Which then begs the question, “Well, if you only bet on the Reds to win, why didn’t you bet on the Reds to win every time? Was there a game where you knew the Reds would lose and you didn’t feel like dropping a few hundred to the bookies? Or in games when you bet on the Reds to win, did you manage the game differently to ensure that your desired outcome would prevail, versus a game where you had no money on the outcome?”

And therein lies the problem. I don’t give a hang if Pete Rose went to the race track and bet on the horse who dropped a pile of manure before going into the starting gate. I don’t give a hang if Pete Rose bet on boxing or on blackjack or on which of three birds would fly off the tree branch first.

He bet on baseball. He bet on his own team. And by doing so, he violated the tenet and spirit of the game. He took away the chance and introduced control. And the minute, the second, the instant you have that in your sport … then that stench stays in your sport for a very, very long time. Just ask the Houston Astros about garbage cans. Ask the New England Patriots about football PSI’s. Those fetid fumes ferment a fuckton of Febreze to fumigate.

Now comes the next argument. “Well, so-and-so is in the Hall of Fame and he openly cheated on his wife. And such-and-such is in the Hall of Fame, and he was a vile racist and possibly a Klansman. You want to take them out of the Hall?”

That’s not the argument here. This is about about gambling on baseball games while you played in the sport. That goes to the heart of the integrity of the game. Pete Rose violated that integrity. And for that, he does not deserve enshrinement. You don’t get to balance off 4,246 regular season base hits as some moral scale-balancer against this.

Pete Rose has passed away. His accomplishments in the sport of baseball are memorable.

But his character – and his actions – preclude him from receiving a Hall of Fame plaque. He doesn’t deserve enshrinement than does Eddie Ciccotte or Shoeless Joe Jackson. Period.