Nemesis: Generations of pitchers failed to suppress Pete Rose. One succeeded

It was impossible to keep Rickey Henderson from stealing bases. It was impossible to keep Hank Aaron in the ballpark. You couldn’t face Ichiro or Pete Rose without giving up a hit. Unless … you were their nemesis. This is a series about the game’s greatest players, and the less-heralded foes who got the best of them again, and again, and again.

No player in major-league history collected more hits than Pete Rose.

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You knew that, of course. You also knew that Ty Cobb held the record before him. The number, 4,191, is probably etched into your baseball consciousness. So is 4,192, which glowed on the scoreboard that night at Cincinnati’s Riverfront Stadium in 1985 when Rose singled off of Eric Show of the San Diego Padres.

But that wasn’t the final number. Rose would whirl around first base 66 more times before retiring as a player/manager in 1986. By the time his 24-year career came to an end, he held the major-league records for games and plate appearances, too. The all-time record for hits stands at 4,256, and if that number isn’t etched into your consciousness, it’s probably because nobody has come anywhere close to threatening it. And if prevailing trends in the game continue, nobody ever will.

But it’s only when you slice up that number — 4,256 — that you begin to understand just how impossible it is. There is only one way to amass that many hits. You have to play for an extremely, freakishly long time. You have to be extremely, freakishly consistent at the plate.

And because pitchers who hang around a long time tend to be pretty good, too, you have to be just as successful against the all-time greats as you are against the tomato cans. The four pitchers that Rose faced the most in his career were all Hall of Famers: Phil Niekro, Don Sutton, Tom Seaver and Gaylord Perry. He hit .283, .339, .286 and .304 against them, respectively. Juan Marichal, Steve Carlton and Bob Gibson — all honored in Cooperstown and on the short list of the game’s greatest pitchers — also make Rose’s top-10 “most frequently faced” list. He batted .341, .270 and .307 against them.

Rose was so gifted at the art of contact hitting that he not only hit .352 against J.R. Richard, who owned one of the hardest and most intimidating fastballs in history, but in 87 career plate appearances against Richard, he struck out just five times. And, of course, he hit in 44 consecutive games in 1978.

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What Rose did against pitchers at the height of their craft was impressive enough. But to stand truly in awe of Rose’s relentless career is to measure it by its breadth. Rose batted .531 against an aging Warren Spahn and wore out a young Doc Gooden (.346). He sprayed singles against Sandy Koufax and Orel Hershiser. Long before he set the all-time record against the Padres, he got a hit against Johnny Podres. He faced all the Bobs: Bob Gibson, Bob Forsch, Bob Friend, Bob Knepper, Bob Veale, Bob Buhl, Bob Welch, Bob Shirley, Bob Bruce and Bob Moose.

He faced Don Larsen. He faced Dan Larson. He faced Tommy John, John Denny and Denny McLain. From Ted Abernathy to Oscar Zamora, Rose stood in a major league batter’s box and stared back at 809 different major-league pitchers over a career that began when John F. Kennedy was in office and ended in the midst of Ronald Reagan’s second term.

Rose amassed at least 10 at-bats against 363 different pitchers. Astoundingly, he collected a hit against 362 of them.

There was just one exception.

“I did what, now?” said Jim Nash, reached by phone at his home in Atlanta’s far northwest suburbs.

It’s a stretch to suggest that Pete Rose’s nemesis was a 6-foot-5, 220-pound right-hander unironically nicknamed Jumbo Jim who broke into the majors as a sensation with the Kansas City A’s in 1966 before a torn rotator cuff robbed him of his fastball. Rose and Nash didn’t face each other enough times to form anything resembling a rivalry. They did not do battle with a pennant on the line. There were other pitchers Rose faced more often — Koufax, Randy Jones, Al Downing — who held him under a .200 average.

The fact that Rose had at least 10 at-bats against 363 different pitchers and got a hit against all but one says more about Rose than it says about Jumbo Jim.

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It was only 10 at-bats. But Nash retired Rose all 10 times. It’s a claim to fame nonetheless. It’s a bit of bar trivia that even Nash didn’t know.

“That may be my only claim,” Nash said with a laugh. “The only thing I was aware of is what a great hitter and ballplayer he was. You’re always trying to make good pitches, and against the great hitters, you’re always trying to move the ball in and out, up and down.

“I guess I’m just lucky. I know I didn’t strike him out much. He might have just hit the ball hard at somebody. With less luck, he might have gone 10 for 10.”

By the time Nash found himself in the Braves’ rotation in 1970, where he landed following a trade for Felipe Alou, he was no longer the overpowering and intimidating prospect who had gone 12-1 with a 2.06 ERA as a rookie and graced the cover of Sports Illustrated alongside fellow phenoms Catfish Hunter and Blue Moon Odom.

He was pitching through recurring shoulder soreness by the time he crossed paths with Rose, and no, those paths did not intersect often enough to turn them into rivals.

They only faced each other in four major-league games. On May 15, 1970, Rose reached on an error to second base, struck out and grounded out twice. Hank Aaron hit a tiebreaking, two-run home run in the eighth. Nash was working on a one-hitter before giving up consecutive singles to Johnny Bench and Lee May with two out in the ninth, then Hoyt Wilhelm came on to record the save in Atlanta’s 3-2 victory.

When they faced each other again two months later in Atlanta, the Reds won, 6-5, and Nash took no decision. But he held Rose to a pair of fly outs to center and a strikeout.

Ask Nash about facing Rose and that’s the confrontation he recalls.

“I know I threw him a ball that broke down and away and I remember he just stared at me,” Nash said. “Like, ‘Where’d that come from?’ And I struck him out on the same pitch and he walked calmly to the dugout.”

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It took a lot to calm down Charlie Hustle.

“That name fit him perfectly,” Nash said. “The Reds had some great teams in ’70 and ’71, and, you know, the Braves weren’t bad, either. Whether it was the Reds or any lineup, you just had to pitch to your strengths. I was a fastball pitcher and I could make it ride up and in to right-handed batters. I could make it break away a little from a left-hander. If you can go up and down, in and out with your fastball, that’s basically four different pitches.”

When you throw hard, you can get away with mistakes. Nash was effectively wild at times with the A’s, but by 1971, he wasn’t missing bats and the Braves were using him in a swingman role.

On Sept. 13 of that season, the Reds and Braves met in front of just 7,144 fans at Riverfront Stadium. They were two teams playing out the string and slogging into the 13th inning when Rose won the game the way he usually did, through sheer force of will. He singled, advanced on a sacrifice, stole third and scored on an error.

Nash wasn’t on the mound in the 13th. He had come on in relief earlier. In the eighth inning, he got Rose to ground out to second base. In the 11th, Rose lined out.

They faced each other one last time in 1972, after Nash was summoned to protect a four-run lead in the eighth. Rose ended the game with a fly out to left.

Final line: 0 for 10, no walks, two strikeouts.

Not enough to be a nemesis. But it was enough for Nash to claim that he faced Charlie Hustle more than any pitcher without yielding so much as a single.

“That’s a lot of fun,” said Nash, 75, who retired from his second career in corporate communications for Bell South in 2005. “The only thing I can say is that against certain players, you had to concentrate a little harder. You knew you had to place the ball. Against a good hitter, you won’t get away with a mistake.”

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Two months after Nash faced Rose for the final time in 1972, the Braves shipped him to the Phillies. A few starts later, he tore his rotator cuff.

“You didn’t have surgery back then,” Nash said. “Nobody was making big money. It was ‘See ya later’ and call up the next guy.”

Jumbo Jim’s career was over, and while it didn’t last long, it was far from forgettable. He still holds the A’s franchise record with seven consecutive winning decisions to begin his career, and he did it for a Kansas City club that finished under .500. He was a 23-year-old member of the rotation in the A’s inaugural 1968 season in Oakland, when he finished seventh in the American League with a 2.28 ERA.

In the Year of the Pitcher, he was one of the best in the AL.

One more thing: Nash was the pitcher on the mound on Opening Day in 1967, which will go down as a monumental day in A’s history. It was the first time they wore white shoes. After Nash’s first pitch to leadoff batter Vic Davalillo, Indians manager Joe Adcock announced to the umpires that Cleveland would play the game under protest. Those dazzling white cleats were too distracting to the hitter, he said.

But the white shoes weren’t a surprise to anyone who was paying attention. A few weeks earlier, Nash, Hunter and Odom had been wearing them on that Sports Illustrated cover.

“Kansas City was my favorite town to play in other than Atlanta,” Nash said. “I loved the people, loved the area of the country. There weren’t all that many fans, but they were supportive. And when we moved to Oakland, the fans there welcomed us with open arms.”

Nash has stayed in touch with the Braves and works with their alumni association. He makes appearances at senior homes where he puts on his Braves jersey and visits with Alzheimer’s patients. He happily shows up whenever he’s invited to alumni events and golf tournaments.

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The next time he gathers with his former teammates, Jumbo Jim will have a new story to tell them. Say, did you happen to know …

“Well, of course, luck had something to do with it,” Nash said. “To get him out consistently, you had to get lucky. Because he usually hit it hard somewhere.”

 (Photo of Rose in 1978: OBJ / Associated Press)

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