Cincinnati: Yor With Us, or Against Us by Shawn Abnoxious

It's been quite a saga. Since 1992 Pete Rose has been trying to get re-instated into Major League Baseball. Is it because he really expects, and deserves, induction into the Baseball Hall of Fame? Is it because being reinstated means he could (maybe) manage an MLB team? Hell, it's Charlie Hustle we're talking about here! Yes!

As the well-known struggle goes, back in 1992, Fay Vincent, who succeeded Bart Giamatti as commissioner, flatly ignored Rose. In 1999 Rose tried Giamatti’s successor, Bud Selig, who ignored Rose’s request until dispelling it, officially, in 2009—just a short DECADE later! Maybe, if Rose played for the Milwaukee Brewers, Selig would have been a bit more interested in the matter. Regardless, Selig obviously didn't care what Cincinnatians think. If he did, he would have re-instated Rose and been declared a fucking superstar within Greater Cincinnati, maybe even regionally. Selig could have reveled in free drinks and food in all Cincinnati’s Brew-Hauses, free coneys, free three-, four- or five-way style Cincinnati Chili at Gold Star and Skyline, free ice cream at Graeters, free LaRossas pizza, but noooooo. The lifetime ban stood and continues to stand—past Selig’s tenure (at least) until another attorney turned Commissioner, Rob Manfred, figures out exactly how important the subject is to him, and his standing with Cincinnati. The answer is simple: Manfred and Major League Baseball is with Cincinnati, or [still] against Cincinnati.

Ol' Pete has tried his best. Maybe, if Rose had admitted to shooting steroids, got caught snorting a line cocaine (or two), or even dabbled in the burgeoning heroin scene (which is fucking gigantic and all over the local news), he would have been long forgiven and welcomed back (maybe) into a manager’s position already. 

I can imagine this Manfred bastard making a big surprise announcement at the 2015 All-Star Game in Cincinnati. Recently, there have been “secret construction projects” around home plate at Great American Ballpark. According to the rumors, the project resembles one of those Central Florida walled-community garbage can lift installations. A contraption designed to hide the curbside trashcans until the collection services arrive, and subsequently retrieves the unsightly refuse that’s hidden inside an underground vault. Then hiding the cans until they are brought back to their “house position.” Some say that the lift is being installed to open on dramatic cue from Manfred, raising Pete straight from beneath home plate, symbolizing his previous standing with MLB, and not only absolving him from  guilt, but automatically inducting him into the Hall of Fame too!

Commissioner Manfred could become thee man, and potentially blow the fucking lid off a packed Cincinnati crowd! He could bring forth a new level of generational chaos at Great American Ball Park, one that hasn't been witnessed since the Cincinnati tragedy just next door to the ballpark that was forever immortalized in the Teacher Pets song "The Cincinnati Stomp." Upon hearing the announcement that Pete Rose is being reinstated into Major League Baseball, a pregnant lady will go into labor, an elderly person will have a heart attack, someone will be stabbed, someone else will be found in a piss-trough submerged in ice, missing a kidney, and the ghost of Marge Schott will be seen with her famed St. Bernard canine “Shotzy” sniffing her crouch while she downs a craft-beer that may (or may not be) a special Rhinegeist microbrew brand named PETE, that was brewed in his honor. Standing ovations will abound as Rose is raised from shame, sloppily eating a cheese-coney, with chili dripping on his Reds uniform—which will be displayed, stain and all, in the Official Baseball Hall of Fame!

Arrogant. Smart-mouthed. A great ballplayer. Each has been used by my dad (Captain of the Cincinnati Reds) to describe Pete Rose. But the basics in my dad’s statements are that he was a great ballplayer. Despite what may happen or not, Pete played some great ball. Let the record show that there's only a slight chance that what is mentioned here will happen. After all, the fact remains that I made this whole scenario up. There is still a chance though, that this scene may unfold as I have suggested and Pete may as well tell Commissioner Manfred, or his successor, and Major League Baseball to take their Hall of Fame and in the immortal words of Trailer Park Boys' Ricky: just fuck-the-right-off!!!

Yeah, I agree, that would be cool too.

Shawn Abnoxious was born, and still resides in Cincinnati, Ohio with his wife and daughter. In his early retirement he stays busy writing short fiction, playing bass in the punk-rock band The Socials as well as maintaining his blog, Thwart...!