My Prison Without Bars

 

My Prison Without Bars – Pete Rose with Rick Hill

After reading this rather laborious book written by Pete Rose, I’m reminded by something I read stated by one of Johnny Bench’s five ex-wives when describing Johnny.  She said something like “Johnny Bench was a great baseball player, but he was lousy at everything else”.   Sadly, the same thing can be said about Johnny’s teammate, Pete Rose.  After reading this book, it’s also sadly clear that as great as a baseball player Pete Rose was, he sure as heck can’t write a book.

To be fair, Rose says so on the very first page. He tells us very early that he ain’t no literary genius. You have to then wonder, why did he even do this?  Why write a book if you can’t even….well….write a book?  Some would say for a quick cash grab. If so, it wouldn’t surprise me.  Even though this thing is not written well, that isn’t necessarily the main problem, the problem is that this book is too unfocused.  While reading this, you get the feeling that you’re sitting at a bar with Pete and he’s had a few too many, and he’s just rambling about everything in his life.  We hear the good, the bad, and plenty of ugly.  Listening to an inebriated stranger bore you for a few minutes is tolerable, but when you have to endure it for 300 pages or so, it just isn’t a very pleasurable experience.

He also tends to repeat himself a lot.  We read time and time again about how Pete tells us that he is basically a selfish jerk. He argues, though (and I would honestly concur), that his demeanor off the field shouldn’t affect his accomplishments on the field.  Most ballplayers, Rose tells us, are selfish jerks.  They need to be.  That’s what turns good ballplayers into great ballplayers.  And, yes, Rose probably could have gotten away with being a jerk had not the gambling problem surfaced when he was still managing the Cincinnati Reds in 1989.  Once Rose was pushed into the spotlight because of his questionable activities, he continued to be a jerk with the public and that contributed to his eventual banishment from the Hall of Fame and from the game of baseball itself.

Whether or not I agree with the judgement that came down on Pete Rose is really irrelevant to my opinions of the book. And as I’ve stated, it’s just not very good.  To be fair, most books by jocks and ex-jocks aren’t really that good either (notice they always have a co-author), but none of these guys were great at their sport because they excelled in English class.  This particular book is particularly loathsome as we’re constantly exposed to such vapid observations as:

“I can’t begin to tell y’all how painful it was to get kicked outta baseball…..”.

He seems to begin 90% of his recollections with the word “Hell”.

“Hell what do I care if a player wants to fool around on the road…..”
“Hell most ballplayers would go to the racetrack after games…”
“Hell every other celebrity was eventually forgiven….”
“Hell none of my teammates really liked me…”
“Hell, why would I wanta play ball on the prison baseball team?....”

And on and on and on. It’s way too much. It really does want to make you shout “bartender! No more drinks for this guy. He’s had enough.”

 

Pete Rose had such a stellar career that had he mainly focused on his playing (and managing) career in this book, this thing would have been somewhat redeemable.  He spends very little time, though, devoted to this, the main part, of his career.  In fact, it’s almost as if he purposely tries to quickly get through it early in the book so he can talk about his life once his problems began.  The few anecdotes he does manage to tell are the highlights of the book by far, such as the on-the-field scuffle during the 1973 World Series with New York Mets’ shortstop Bud Harrelson.  Sadly, though, those episodes are only lightly peppered throughout the book.  We read more about Rose’s 5-month stay in prison than we do his 25-year brilliant baseball career.

What should have happened here, is Rose should have contracted a respectable author and delegated the writing of Rose’s story to said particular individual.  With proper care, and a more linear story, this thing could have been much more bearable.  As mentioned, though, this thing seemed to be nothing more than a quick cash grab.  The irony is that I couldn’t help wonder if the powers that be that could have put Rose in the Hall of Fame maybe looked at this book, read a few chapters, and then shook their heads in disgust as they felt the guy was once again grasping at straws.  In other words, I can’t help wonder if this book actually hindered Rose’s chances at being reinstated as opposed to helping him.

Ironically, as I began reading this book, two coincidental events happened. First, HBO released a brilliant four-part documentary on Pete Rose and his ongoing struggles.  Second, Rose himself passed away.  For many, it was sad to see Rose die without being forgiven by the game that he contributed so much, and I’m sure the debate will persevere for a long time to come.   I also would highly recommend the HBO documentary as it was quite good, much more so than this book, sadly.