In the early 1980s, while Pete Rose was playing for the Phillies, I had a brief encounter with the baseball legend that left me with an unsettling impression. On a Friday night in April, I joined some NBC public relations staff who were heading to Philadelphia for the "Game of the Week." We watched batting practice from behind the cage, and when Rose finished, he approached us, his eyes fixed on our press passes.

What followed was a torrent of conversation initiated by Rose himself. He wanted to discuss the recent NCAA basketball tournament, and without any hesitation, he shared his misfortunes with betting. He lamented about taking a hit due to poorly executed free throws, revealing just how deeply sports gambling affected him. It became apparent that he was buzzing — likely from the amphetamines he'd been rumored to use to maintain his performance into his 40s.

This interaction left me reeling. Rose did not exhibit the reserved demeanor one might expect from a famous athlete. Instead, he seemed desperate to connect, almost frantic, blurring the lines between admiration and awkwardness.

Tom Bunevich, an author and former card show promoter, paints a picture of Rose that mirrors my experience. In his books, he reflects on the difficulty of interacting with a man who turned from a beloved player into a controversial figure marked by abrasive behavior and a lack of humility. Bunevich describes how Rose demands a TV during autograph signings to keep track of his gambling actions, illustrating just how intertwined his life had become with his vices.

My last sighting of Rose was even more unsettling: I spotted him at Bern's Steak House in Tampa, seated at a table with a young woman who appeared to be in her teens. Initially assuming she was a relative, I soon realized they were holding hands and behaving inappropriately — a stark reminder of the ongoing controversies that surrounded him. Rose’s public denials of serious allegations only reinforced the sordid perception of his character.

Despite his recent passing at the age of 83, calls to induct Rose into the Hall of Fame once again have gained traction. Some argue that Major League Baseball has embraced gambling as part of its business model, but for many, including myself, Rose's character disqualifies him from such honors. His tumultuous history with gambling, questionable relationships, and drug use casts a long shadow over his achievements on the field.

The narrative surrounding Rose goes beyond just questions of gambling as MLB navigates its own issues relating to sports betting. This situation is a reflection of a broader conversation about morality within sports. Should talent overshadow questionable character? Where do we draw the line, especially when it comes to honoring those we once celebrated?

In the wake of Rose's complicated legacy, it's time to examine the true values we prioritize in our sports heroes. The allure of skill cannot overshadow the importance of integrity.

As we reflect on Rose's impact, the question remains: Can we separate the athlete from the man? In his case, it appears, perhaps not.