<![CDATA[The Hit King Sits On The Strip: I think this is good writing….
I stroll past thirty yards of items I can’t afford and don’t want. Then I see him.
It’s Pete Rose, signing autographs for money in front of a memorabilia shop.
Rose, resplendent in a University of Miami sweatsuit and ballcap, doesn’t seem to be doing much. He checks his watch, makes some small talk with the security guards, then sneaks another peek down at his wrist. There are three teenage girls wearing Reds jerseys that have been paid to wave advertising placards. They appear to be the closest he’s going to come to an adoring public.
In person, Pete Rose looks much like he does on television — you get the feeling that he’s waiting for someone to challenge him. He seems defiant and yet slightly bewildered, like a bull that doesn’t yet realize it has been castrated. In a way, Pete’s the perfect man for Vegas, and not just because of the obvious. In a town built for oddness and isolation, he appears one of the oddest and most isolated men around.
Just wanted to say that this is well written, one of the best pieces of writing I’ve run across in blogs for a while.