Greetings from the sports desk located somewhere below the main deck of the Good Pirate Ship RedState. Sammy the Shark and Karl the Kraken are taking advantage of the spring weather to get in some much needed exercise ...

Those fish crackers aren’t going to work themselves off.

Anyway, all four major American sports are in the news, three because of this fantastic new marketing technique known as “real live games” and the fourth, namely football, because it’s football. What other sport warrants a prime-time television extravaganza for the sole purpose of announcing on what day which team will play which other team and where, when the list of who plays who, and whether it will be a home or an away game, is published immediately after the preceding season’s end? Bit of overkill there. But, it is football, which firmly rules the sports roots in Columbia, the gem of the ocean. So there is that. At least it’s not another snickering rehash of Bill Belichick’s love life.

We move on to baseball. In addition to the aforementioned outstanding promotional idea, routinely set into motion when an umpire calls out “play ball,” as my colleague Brad Essex has pointed out, MLB has decided that ain’t no grave gonna keep a Hall of Fame eligibility down. The late Pete Rose, Shoeless Joe Jackson, and others are now eligible for baseball’s highest honor. The minor detail of none of them being here to enjoy the moment shall go conveniently ignored.

MORE: Essex Files: Pete Rose and Shoeless Joe Redeemed - Baseball Legends Cleared for Hall of Fame Glory

While MLB commissioner Rob Manfred deserves at least some accolades for concluding that a lifetime ban ends when one’s lifetime has ended, questions remain unanswered. We start with a look into the wayback machine and whether Shoeless Joe Jackson belongs in the Hall of Fame based on his career numbers. The answer is yes. A .356 lifetime batting average and a 7.6 WAR speak for themselves even louder than “say it ain’t so, Joe.” Which in all likelihood never happened. Besides, Jackson now has a friend in a very high place.

Take heart, White Sox fans. If there are any of you left.

Rose’s case is a bit murkier. Certainly, there is no debate based on merit. Most hits in Major League history. Most games played in Major League history. Most at-bats. Second in doubles. Multiple World Series titles. The list goes on.

Rose was also a jerk on and off the field. He derailed the late Ray Fosse’s promising career with an unnecessary hard slide in the 1970 All-Star Game. He was a womanizer. He lied for years about betting on baseball. He served time in prison for tax evasion. This all duly noted, there is no morals clause in the eligibility standards for the Baseball Hall of Fame, so Rose will indeed be elected to it in December 2027 when those who decide such things next reconvene.

Shoeless Joe Jackson did participate in a scheme to throw the 1919 World Series in no small part as a measure of revenge against the White Sox’s miserly owner Charles Comiskey. Rose bet on his team, although somewhat to his defense, it was on them to win. These are serious matters; massive lapses in judgment. 

Still, it is easier to forgive Jackson and Rose than Manfred and Athletics owner John Fisher for running the franchise into the ground, completely alienating and disrespecting its fan base of 56 years, and suddenly finding scads of money previously declared nonexistent to bolster the roster while waiting for construction of a stadium in a city that has no genuine interest in having the team there. But hey — now MLB owners have an excuse to go to Las Vegas in August! (Who, me bitter?)

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