I'm not jealous of Jim Gray.
Only a few people can perform at the absolute top of their professions and be carved out as the American villain.
Last week, Gray became one of those people-and it's certainly not an enviable position.
On the night of Pete Rose's triumphant return to a Major League ballpark last week before Game 2 of the World Series, Gray repeatedly bombarded Rose with a series of questions relating to his gambling past and his refusal to admit guilt during a live interview broadcast on NBC.
What Gray did was give the all-time hits leader the perfect occasion to explain himself.
But all Gray got in return were evasive answers from Rose, a classless cold shoulder from Chad Curtis and the Yankees and a swarm of backlash. And instead of being recognized for conducting another gutsy and top-notch interview, Gray was lambasted by the public and somehow, Rose emerged the sympathetic hero.
Does it seem ridiculous at all than one man is ridiculed for doing his job while another man gains respect for continuing to deceive the public?
What else can you really talk to Pete Rose about if you don't talk about gambling?
The intriguing aspect of Rose's return to the field after a 10-year absence wasn't how he felt about the occasion. It was, rather, why there was an occasion at all for his return.
If Rose hadn't dealt baseball the black eye with his gambling problems 10 years ago, Charlie Hustle would have made the All-Century team without fanfare and found a nice little bronze plaque of himself hanging in a building in Cooperstown.
The cold fact remains, however, that Rose was banned from baseball for life in 1989 by A. Bartlett Giamatti, and in the 10 years since, Rose has given baseball absolutely no reason to welcome him back. Since baseball has never reinstated a player who had been banned for life, it will take a lot more than a weak application for reinstatement for Rose to hustle his way back into the game.
Since Rose's banishment, the entire baseball landscape has undergone wholesale changes, but one thing hasn't-Rose's unrepentant, arrogant denial of his involvement with gambling.
Granted, Rose can point out until his face turns blue that the lifetime banishment agreement he signed in 1989 is neither "an admission nor a denial" he bet on baseball. But if that clause fools anyone, then I'll take this forum to announce the availability of a nice tract of rural land just outside of Chernobyl. Would you sign a statement agreeing to your permanent ban from baseball if no evidence of your wrongdoing existed?
What Gray offered Rose, in effect, was the ideal stage and audience to address his fans and the entire baseball world about his past problems. Rose could have struck a poignant and convincing chord with everyone only if he had admitted his guilt, expressed his regret and asked baseball for its forgiveness.
But that's entirely too much to ask for a man so enamored with his pride and his dignity, or the very little that's left of it.
Rose repeatedly dodged Gray's line of questioning and ultimately responded with the retort, "I'm surprised you're bombarding me with this, I'm here to do an interview with you."
Surprised, Pete? Why should you? You were kicked out of the game for gambling. Baseball had the good graces to allow you back on the field for a celebration, and you're stunned that someone had the gall to ask you about gambling? Sounds a bit naïve to me.
Secondly, what Gray was doing was exactly what Rose said, interviewing him. But maybe Rose thought Gray was there to massage his ego, which is exactly what many sideline reporters think their job entails (see Rashad, Ahmad).
Rashad, who patrols the NBA sidelines mainly to tell Michael Jordan how great he is (while theoretically providing insightful commentary), is the most over-the-top example of the reporter-turned-sycophant. His idea of a good postgame question is hugging an exhausted Jordan after his heroic Game 5 performance against Utah in the 1997 NBA Final, whispering "sheer will," and sticking a microphone in his face.
Although Gray and Rashad work for the same network, they're on opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to interviewing style and, more importantly, quality. Gray has never been afraid to ask the difficult questions, the intimidating questions, and more often-than-not, the absolute correct questions.
After all, this is the same guy who had won a Sports Emmy in 1998 for having the resolve, and more importantly, the guts, to grab Mike Tyson around the waist seconds after he had bitten off part of Evander Holyfield's ear, and shout in his ear, "Why did you bite the man's ear off?"
Perhaps Gray should apologize profusely for doing his job as a sidelines reporter and asking the tough questions the people want answered, not the ones the athletes want to hear. Still, Pete should not be surprised at Gray's line of questioning.
So next time Mr. Gray, just skip all the civilized questions when you're interviewing Rose. Just go ahead, put him in a headlock and scream in his ear, "Why do you keep lying?" Oh, one more thing: Don't forget to turn to the camera afterward, smile and say hi to your grandma.
It's a win-win situation for Gray. He might be able to scream some actual sense into Rose, and if he didn't, he'll receive the same amount of public backlash.
UPON FURTHER REVIEW is a weekly column written by a Chronicle sports columnist. It appears every Wednesday.
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