Opinion

What Caitlin Clark and Pete Rose have in common

All intrigues and controversies aside, I’ll assess the Clark phenomenon as a basketball historian. In 1960, Sports Illustrated wrote that NBA rookie Wilt Chamberlain set records in every important category. Likewise, Ms. Clark toppled WNBA records like bowling pins. In one season, Chamberlain single-handedly made basketball a paying attraction. Sports Illustrated concluded that Chamberlain’s value to the National Basketball Association was like Babe Ruth’s to baseball.

After a record-setting year at the University of Iowa, Ms. Clark joined a decaying and desolate Indiana Fever franchise, juicing it with voltage and viability. The league’s 13 most-watched games this season all featured Ms. Clark. The Fever led the WNBA in attendance, averaging 17,036 at home and more than 15,000 on the road.

The Fever started 1-8 but finished with a flurry and made the playoffs, ending a six-year drought. Ms. Clark and last season’s rookie of the year, Aliyah Boston, became the best pick-and-roll duo in the league. Furiously fast, Kelsey Mitchell was the WNBA’s second-leading scorer after the Olympic break. Ms. Mitchell shot better from the field and the three-point line, while Ms. Clark was second in the league in free throw shooting. Ms. Clark excels at scanning the floor while she’s in the backcourt, then zipping a Patrick Mahomes-like laser that a streaking Ms. Mitchell catches in stride for a layup.

Cold, dry, statistical accomplishments can’t convey the phenomenon that is Ms. Clark. Watching her is akin to watching Muhammad Ali in his 1960s brilliance, and thinking, “I’ve got to keep my eyes riveted.”

Marc D. Greenwood, Opelika, Ala.

Using her head

Last month, Connecticut Sun guard DiJonai Carrington hit Indiana Fever guard Caitlin Clark in the face while trying to steal the ball, giving Ms. Clark a black eye. Esteemed sportswriter Christine Brennan asked Ms. Carrington whether she did it on purpose and whether she laughed about it later in the game. Those two questions sparked an attack on Ms. Brennan’s integrity, covered in The Post’s Oct. 2 Sports story, “When Clark remains the focus, WNBA players push back.”

The Women’s National Basketball Players Association accused Ms. Brennan of pushing “a narrative that is false and designed to fuel racist, homophobic, and misogynistic vitriol on social media” and asked the league to revoke her press credentials.

In June, Post sports columnist Sally Jenkins wrote about Chicago Sky player Chennedy Carter’s flagrant foul [“League’s inaction means it’s open season on Clark,” Sports, June 7] against Ms. Clark and warned: “The NBA league office knows what happens if you don’t penalize that kind of flagrancy: escalation, an injury or a bench clearing. And the WNBA may have to face that kind of ugly spiral because of its laxity in this case. It has made targeting Clark permissible.”

With its conspicuous silence, the WNBA has also made targeting journalists permissible.

Joseph A. Capone, Oakton

The start of a legacy?

I disagree with Candace Buckner’s Sept. 21 Sports column, “Clark needs to embrace her status as an icon.”

One of the most endearing aspects of Caitlin Clark’s rise to stardom is her pure love of and devotion to the sport. Guided by her family and athletic activities from an early age, she enveloped herself totally in mastering basketball: learning basic skills, practice and more practice, internalizing mental toughness and muscle memory, embracing and practicing coordinated teamwork, seeing the court and consuming the moment. Her purity of play, coupled with her roles as team member, leader and mentor, make her fun, even addictive, to watch.

What more should we ask of Ms. Clark? She is already a role model for youths everywhere and a shining light of unblemished skill to millions of adults such as me. In this age of many so-called icons who have marketed their fame outside that which made them famous, let her — and us — enjoy an uncomplicated connection.

Glenn Kamber, Reston

Another who loved the game …

Regarding Rick Reilly’s Oct. 2 op-ed, “Pancakes with Pete Rose”:

I’m the same age Pete Rose was when he passed, and I grew up idolizing the Cincinnati Reds superstar. Mr. Rose — or “Charlie Hustle,” as he was called because of his unstoppable zeal and passion for the game — was truly one of baseball’s greats. In so many ways, Mr. Rose threw caution to the wind by sacrificing his body to grab an extra base, or by crashing into the opposing catcher to score the winning run for his team. His 4,256 base hits eclipsed Ty Cobb’s record and might never be broken.

Despite his stardom on the field, Mr. Rose was no shrinking violet off it. His betting on baseball kept him out of the Hall of Fame. However, this fan respectfully suggests that he be admitted posthumously.

Henry A. Lowenstein, New York

… used his head

I thank The Post for its Pete Rose obituary [“Popular — then disgraced — hit king,” front page, Oct. 1]. Painful news. “Charlie Hustle” gone. “Mr. Baseball Entertainer” no more.

As a player, Mr. Rose didn’t look around for someone else to field a popup; he never leisurely walked to first base (or to any base). He played at one speed: as fast as he could go. His hustle entertained fans every minute he was on the field. His hustle attracted fans to baseball. Viewers got nine full innings of excitement.

Baseball was his universe; it didn’t matter whether it was a regular season game, an exhibition game or, of course, an All-Star Game. I remember the tsunami of condemnation when he collided headfirst with catcher Ray Fosse. Critics said Mr. Rose shouldn’t have tried so hard to score. Shame on Mr. Rose for injuring Fosse, I heard — and still hear. Does anyone remember that Mr. Rose injured himself on that play and had to miss three games?

Maybe they should play the All-Star Game like the National Football League plays its Pro Bowl: Let’s not get anyone hurt by trying too hard.

And regarding Mr. Rose’s betting: Yes, he showed bad judgment then and afterward. But the punishment for it — a lifetime ban and exclusion from the Hall of Fame — was cruel and unusual for him, for his fans and for baseball. Mr. Rose was a flawed but towering giant of baseball.

Thomas Bickerton, Vienna

... and earned his legacy

My parents would call me to the living room to watch important world events. The fall of the Berlin Wall. The Challenger disaster. President Bill Clinton’s handshakes with Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin and Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat.

And, when Pete Rose hit No. 4,192. Rest in peace, “Charlie Hustle.”

Paul Bacon, Hallandale Beach, Fla.

Rick Reilly’s commentary [“Pancakes with Pete Rose,” op-ed, Oct. 2] was an interesting and insightful read about a player I idolized as a 13-year-old when he was a Cincinnati Red (and a teammate of my hometown-native Rawly Eastwick). As a South Jersey local, I was over the moon when Mr. Rose became a Phillie.

His fall from grace, in my book (and I literally had a scrapbook), did not come quickly. It wasn’t until it became irrefutably clear that he had bet on baseball for a long time — and denied it for an equally long time — that his image became tainted for me, too. When it was revealed more recently that not only had he cheated on his first wife but also that he allegedly had done so with underage girls, I was repulsed.

Mr. Reilly asserts that all Mr. Rose had was baseball, and banning him for life (and from the Hall of Fame) was unfair. Yet, it’s not anyone’s fault but Mr. Rose’s. Had he immediately admitted to betting on baseball and claimed he didn’t know it was illegal, he might have saved himself. That he denied his actions for years to me is not something we can just dismiss.

When Mr. Rose surpassed Ty Cobb, he earned it. When he got banned for life, he earned that too.

Lauree Padgett, Voorhees, N.J.

The Post’s detailed write-up of Pete Rose did not detail the story of when Mr. Rose got out of prison in Ohio after having been jailed for tax evasion.

Mr. Rose, then about 50, got picked up by his son. Mr. Rose directed his son to drive to a baseball batting cage, where the owner had assembled a crowd. Mr. Rose asked for the fastest pitching machine to be cranked up as fast as it would go. He then picked up a bat and, on the first pitch, hit a vicious line drive that dented the machine.

Rose turned to the crowd and uttered: “Some things never change!”

Robert Shvodian, Bethesda