.jpg)
Was driving home from a fishing trip the other day when I heard the news – Pete Rose, probably the best hitter in the history of baseball – had died.
When I played in high school, I used a “Pete Rose” Louisville Slugger bat. It was as thick as a telephone pole, and almost as heavy.
But I was like a lot of people – we loved the way Rose played the game. All-out. Sliding head-first into the bases. Knocking down catchers in plays at home plate. And best of all, slamming hit after hit, and sprinting for an extra base. So I was hoping for some magic with the bat.
But Rose, as we all learned eventually, had a dark side. He was addicted to gambling.
So addicted that he couldn’t give it up despite urging from friends. So addicted that he bet on his own team when he was a manager of his Cincinnati Reds. So addicted that he couldn’t admit he had a problem until years later.
It cost him dearly – he was banned for life from baseball and barred from being admitted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown. Think of it: the best hitter in the history of the game can’t be honored, officially, for his accomplishments.
Gambling, like a lot of other addictions, can be a powerful habit. It’s sometimes not the winning that is addictive, professionals have told me, but it’s the coming close to winning. So if you had a near miss, you bet again, because you were so close and next time you’re going to punch your ticket.
I’ve seen this first-hand with a couple of high school buddies. They lost bets on the Saturday college football games, then lost on the Sunday pro games. Then it’s time to “double down” on the Monday Night game of the week in hopes of recouping their losses.
It’s a horrible addiction that pretty much destroyed the lives of my friends. One was so pathetically in debt he asked a grieving husband, at the funeral of his wife, if he could lend him some money. I’ve got an old shotgun from the other buddy, who had to sell hunting guns to earn some cash because he was so far in the hole.
Problem gambling has been on the rise recently in Nebraska as new gambling casinos have opened, as so-called “skill games” have become common in convenience stores and bars, and as it gets easier and easier to place a bet on sports events with your cell phone.
Justin Antons, a licensed counselor who works for the Nebraska Commission on Problem Gambling, said the problem gambling hotline operated by the Commission now gets eight to 15 calls a month for help, three to four times more than just a few years ago.
Both of my buddies were star athletes in high school, and seemingly had great things ahead of them. But Antons said that some people who played sports started betting on the games because they were passionate about athletics and wanted to stay involved, or, because they were good at sports, and believe they’ll be good at betting, too.
Now I know buddies who bet socially, a few bucks a week, on the Huskers and the like.
They do it for fun and don’t overdo it. And there are plenty of people who go to the casino with a set budget – I’ll bet this much until it’s gone – and leave without draining their bank accounts. It’s like alcohol and even drugs. Some people can handle it, can moderate their use, and never have a problem.
But with other people, it’s like pouring gas on a fire – they can never get enough, they can never give it up, no matter how hard they try.
So, when Pete Rose died, the sports pundits all praised his on-field accomplishments, and his fierce drive to excel. But his legacy is something else, how his gambling consumed his life, and left him an outcast to a game he mastered like no other.
By the way, counseling for problem gamblers is free via the state’s Commission on Problem Gambling. Their toll-free number is 1-833-238-6837.
Paul Hammel retired in April from the Nebraska Examiner. He was previously with the Omaha World-Herald, and Lincoln Journal Star.
