Liar. Cheat. Disgrace.

In the last few weeks since the publication of his second autobiography, “My Prison Without Bars,” Pete Rose has been bombarded with these names and worse.

In his book, Rose states that he gambled on baseball, but never as a player and never against his team.

Although there are numerous allegations to the contrary, one aspect still shines clear: Pete Rose deserves to be in the Hall of Fame.

As a player, no one can question Rose’s accomplishments and ability. In 24 seasons, his achievements are second-to-none.

He is baseball’s all-time leader in games played, hits and at-bats. Additionally, he’s second in doubles and fifth in runs scored.

Don’t forget that he’s a two-time Gold Glove recipient, the 1963 Rookie of the Year and 1973 MVP.

All this is nice, but for me, the image of Rose that will always endure is from the 1970 All-Star Game.

Ask anyone, the All-Star Game is more of a celebration than a battle, but to Rose in 1970, one would have thought his life depended on the outcome.

In the bottom of the twelfth inning, Rose scored from second on a single to the outfield to win this meaningless game. In doing so, he planted American League catcher Ray Fosse in a massive collision, unlike any in Midsummer’s Classic history.

Never has an All-Star game been marked with more hustle and will to succeed.

Every time our fathers attended our sub-par Little League games, that’s all dad wanted to see. One hundred percent given at all times and nothing less.

Rose’s performance in this game epitomizes his career.

Pete Rose played baseball for baseball and loved every second he wore the uniform. He took pride in his team, pride in the game and pride in himself.

Granted, he’s a complete and utter disgrace to the game for giving into the vice of gambling, but it ends there.

The Hall of Fame is not heaven. It’s not St. Peter’s. And it’s not a Wall of Saints.

The Hall of Fame is simply collection of the greatest players, broadcasters and coaches to ever play this wonderful game.

It’s always nice to have role models in the Hall of Fame, but it isn’t mandatory. I’d like 10 more Roberto Clemente’s than Pete Rose’s in the Hall, but baseball isn’t the moral police.

Who would you rather have fill a slot in Cooperstown, Pete Rose or Jimmy Key? For inclusion in the 2004 Hall of Fame, mediocre players like Key appeared on the ballot. It is a bigger disgrace to see a player like this, with a career record of 186-117, on the ballot than it is to enshrine Rose.

Key has no accolades to his name and probably isn’t well known or received by anyone other than those who saw him play in the three American League cities that marked his 15-year career (that’s Toronto, New York and Baltimore by the way).

The only accomplishment he has to his name is that he currently ranks No. 462 in career shutouts. Granted, Key didn’t garner enough votes to make the cut, but simply making him eligible to join the ranks of Mays, Mantle and Aaron is ridiculous.

Pete Rose had a stellar career and did more in 24 years than entire collections of players could ever imagine. Give Rose a spot in Cooperstown before someone of insufficient credentials takes his well-deserved place.