By Ethan J. Skolnick
Staff Writer
South Florida Sun-Sentinel
January 11, 2004
Pete Rose admits he bet on baseball
See larger image(AP File
Photo)
Pete Rose's new book, 'My Prison Without Bars'
(AP/Richard Drew)
Who's sorry in sports now? Who isn't? Sports figures have had so much
recent practice apologizing, it would seem anyone could follow their footsteps
to forgiveness.
There is the standard
to-anyone-who-may-have-been-offended apology, after a politically incorrect
remark. Consult Fuzzy Zoeller, Junior Seau, Mike Barrow, Matt Millen, Shaquille
O'Neal, Kellen Winslow Jr. and countless others. There is the day-after
statement of apology for self-preservation purposes -- see foul-ball bandit
Steve Bartman, if you can find the banished Cubs fan. There is the
apology-by-phone after twice telling a sideline reporter you would like to kiss
her. That was a recent Joe Namath number.
There is the pricey apology:
Falcons owner Arthur Blank took out a full page ad to apologize to fans for his
disappointing team. There is the painful apology, one Thrashers forward Dany
Heatley made upon returning to the ice, months after his car accident killed
teammate Dan Snyder: "Every time I go to sleep, I think about Dan." There is the
amusing apology, then-Pirates first baseman Randall Simon explaining he never
meant to hurt the racing sausage: "I was just going to tap the hat, you know, of
the costume, and you just keep going and finish off the race." There is the
apology-with-explanations, espoused of late by too many disgraced college
coaches to count. There is the serious, public apology after you have betrayed
or even allegedly battered your spouse, often present at the news conference
(see Kobe Bryant, Warren Moon, Darryl Strawberry). There is the broken-record
apology, popularized by Mike Tyson and Bob Knight. There is an apology a day --
Friday, it was Kansas State quarterback Ell Roberson's turn, apologizing for his
conduct in a school statement, even after he learned he would not be charged
with a crime.
And there is the Pete Rose apology.
The sorriest
performance of all. "With regard to Pete Rose, you could actually apologize,"
crisis-management specialist Jonathan Bernstein said Tuesday. "One of my peers
in this business just published the biggest PR blunders of 2003. We just had the
first entry of 2004. That is the most classic case of
shoot-yourself-in-the-privates that I have seen in a while."
Ah yes, Pete
Rose, who has left those with an affinity for the art of the apology just about
apoplectic. Monday, excerpts from his book, My Prison Without Bars, and clips of
his ABC interview suggested he wasn't really apologizing for lying for 14 years
about betting on baseball. One gem from the book: "I'm sure that I'm supposed to
act all sorry or sad or guilty now that I've accepted that I've done something
wrong. But you see, I'm just not built that way."
Wednesday, Rose tried
to rescue his mission for contrition, releasing his finest apology to date: "I
am terribly sorry for my actions and for my bad judgment in ever wagering on
baseball, and I deeply regret waiting so many years to come clean. I would like
to apologize to the fans for abusing their trust, but I thank them all for their
continuing faith in me."
The crisis-management professionals will thank
him for serving as another case study, like Gary Condit, Bill Clinton, Martha
Stewart, Arthur Andersen and the Catholic Church, for how not to handle a crisis
of reputation. Rose broke just about every standard rule of
apologizing.
Starting with this one ...
"The quicker the better,"
says Judy Hoffman, author of Keeping Cool on the Hot Seat: Dealing Effectively
With the Media in Times of Crisis. "I always tell my corporate clients, what you
do and say in the first hours after an incident, fire, sexual-harassment charge,
injury will color the entire incident. He thought for a long time about how he
was going to address this, and this is the best he could come up
with?"
Hoffman says one should reveal everything to the press or not talk
at all. Bernstein says Rose should have just "kept his mouth shut" and let the
book speak if he didn't feel he did anything wrong. Bernstein values the public
mea culpa, because "all the best written statements in the world don't
substitute for looking at the person and seeing if they are sincere." But the
forum can backfire if the person equivocates, leading to several news cycles of
explaining and backtracking.
Mike Paul, a
reputation-management expert who has worked with Mark Gastineau and Joe Frazier,
says his process starts with ego management. Most prominent athletes have "yes
people" around them. Unless they hire a specialist like him on a monthly
retainer, they may not hear what they should. He wants his clients to be so
prepared for every tough question that they seem glad to have been asked, eager
to help others not go through the same things. That means more than apologizing.
When George O'Leary lost the Notre Dame job after lying on his resume, Paul
thought he should have flown to schools to speak about his mistake.
"So
you own it and can talk about it the rest of your life," says Paul, who advises
against spinning, which the public always sees as a form of lying. "Here's a
simple, kindergarten rule: if there's an `if' or a `but' in an apology, it's not
an apology. You can't still be emphasizing something that still makes you upset.
Before you even open your mouth and have an external message, you have to make
sure your internal thoughts are on track. Think through what you're going to
say."
Legal implications
Every word takes
on even greater meaning, and greater complications, when there are legal issues
involved. Rose is not currently facing those, his book title notwithstanding. He
will not literally serve hard time for betting on baseball. Nor would Vijay
Singh for saying he hoped Annika Sorenstam missed the cut at the Colonial, nor
Steve Spurrier for the Redskins' poor play, nor Ron Zook for the Gators' Outback
Bowl flop, nor WNBA star Sue Bird for suggesting a radio talk show host could
spank her if she lost a bet. Yet all apologized, if simply to appease the court
of public opinion.
Sometimes, in cases like Bryant's and Ray Lewis'
before him, that court collides with the court of law. Upon the advice of his
legal team, Bryant immediately released a statement declaring his innocence
regarding the charge of sexual assault, but admitting adultery. He followed that
up by appearing at a news conference with his wife, which drew mixed reviews.
Hoffman says she came away "pretty much impressed" because of the speed and
Bryant's willingness to take responsibility for something. Bernstein deemed it a
good idea, particularly because Bryant had built up a reservoir of good will,
but thinks Bryant could have expressed himself better with a PR professional's
help.
Paul thinks Bryant's news conference may haunt
him in public-perception terms; he would have had him be more forthcoming, while
realizing the legal people would have fought that. Paul characterizes the Bryant
situation as exemplifying the ongoing conflict between "legal communications and
truth," between lawyers who are trying to clear their clients and
public-relations pros concerned about restoring their reputations. The legal
side generally wins. Since it is not necessary to pass a bar-like exam to give
PR advice, attorneys plus agents, accountants, sponsorship reps and so on assume
they can handle it without much training. "Most lawyers have huge egos, they
want to be in control of everything," Paul says. "So they guess their way
through it."
Naturally, Paul would like to see
more athletes rely on reputation managers before, during and after the crisis,
and not just on their team's PR staff. While teams such as the Dolphins
do have general crisis-communication plans, they are often limited in supporting
the athlete full-bore, while trying to also be fair to the organization and its
fans. Dolphins senior VP of media relations Harvey Greene admits this can be a
"delicate tightrope."
When it doesn't work
An
apology may seem a quick fix, but it won't get you out of every fix. Especially
if you are a recidivist apologist. Former NFL linebacker Bill Romanowski
apologized a few years back after spitting on J.J. Stokes. When he apologized
this summer for attacking Marcus Williams in practice, it didn't stop Williams
from filing a lawsuit. Tyson's next apology should come any day now, for
whatever he does next. Knight's, too.
Some apologies are more heartfelt
than anticipated, like Charles Barkley's for accidentally spitting on a girl a
few years back. Some apologies are directed at a third party, not the one
allegedly aggrieved. Take Rush Limbaugh's regret about causing "discomfort" to
ESPN's NFL Countdown crew, in connection with his skepticism of the media's high
rating of black quarterback Donovan McNabb. Some are battles of wills to see who
will say sorry first, as when Serena Williams accused Justine Henin-Hardenne of
"lying and fabricating" during their French Open semifinal. Neither
blinked.
Some apologies never come, and it's no big deal. Former Clemson
football player Charlie Baumann, punched by late Ohio State coach Woody Hayes in
a game, told the Los Angeles Times that he had pleasant conversations with the
coach in later years, but neither expected nor received an apology.
Many
apologies are not accepted, at least not publicly. News Corp's New York Post ran
a gossip item implying Sandy Koufax was gay, and Koufax wouldn't work for News
Corp's Dodgers even after the newspaper's apology. Teen golfer Michelle Wie did
not accept one from Danielle Ammaccapane after their conflict, though Wie's
father B.J. did admit he had caused some trouble by accusing Ammaccapane of
bumping his daughter. He quit being her caddie to stay out of the
way.
Some apologies are too transparent. Bernstein points to Iowa State
basketball coach Larry Eustachy, who apologized after he was caught on film
carousing. Eustachy admitted to alcoholism, which might have elicited more
sympathy if he wasn't also still fighting to keep his job.
Rose is
selling books, as former teammate Joe Morgan has noted, and Paul suspects may be
leading to some poor decisions. Bernstein senses Rose would be difficult to
influence, but "a good PR pro" would try.
"He can still catch up,"
Bernstein says. "He has hurt himself. But he can come out and say, `People have
sat down with me the past day or two, and made it crystal clear that I did
wrong. And people were hurt. And I want to say that now.'"
But consider
the consequences before pushing Rose to do so. In 1999, then-NBC reporter Jim
Gray asked him six times if he wanted to apologize. Later, Gray apologized to
"baseball fans everywhere" for taking some joy out of the All-Star
celebration.
Copyright © 2004, South Florida
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