Pete Rose. The name resonates deeply with baseball enthusiasts, particularly fans of the Cincinnati Reds. His number, 14, is synonymous with his legendary career, and it’s a number that has been officially retired by the Reds. But why did Pete Rose wear No. 14 in the first place? Many might assume it was a personal choice, a lucky number, or something deeply significant from his past. However, the reality, as with many baseball jersey number stories, is quite different and reveals an interesting aspect of baseball tradition.
To understand why Pete Rose sported the iconic No. 14 for the majority of his career with the Cincinnati Reds, we need to rewind to his arrival at Crosley Field in 1963. While jersey number 27 might have seemed like a possibility – Rose even wore it during spring training and in an exhibition game – fate, or rather, team equipment manager Ray Evans, had other plans.
“Ray Evans, ‘Chesty’ Evans, he had 14 hanging in my locker, because I was a second baseman,” Pete Rose himself recalled. “And 27 wasn’t a good number for a second baseman, so I got 14.” This simple, almost arbitrary assignment is the true origin of the Pete Rose Number that would become so famous. It wasn’t a number he picked; it was assigned based on his position.
Pete Rose in his iconic No. 14 jersey
This anecdote highlights a common, often overlooked aspect of baseball: players, especially rookies, rarely get to choose their jersey numbers. Unless you are an established veteran with significant leverage upon being traded or signing as a free agent, the number on your back is often decided for you. This tradition is deeply ingrained in the sport, and Pete Rose’s experience is far from unique.
Consider the case of Cody Reed, a more recent Cincinnati Red. Like Rose decades before him, Reed had no say in his number assignment. He simply walked into the clubhouse and found No. 44 with his name above it. “That’s what was given to me. That’s all I got,” Reed stated, accepting the assigned digits without complaint. He even found a silver lining, noting, “(No.) 44 is better than 84 in spring training. That’s perfectly fine with me.” Reed’s reaction underscores the point: for many players, particularly those just starting their major league careers, simply getting a big league uniform is the priority, regardless of the number.
The article further illustrates this point with other Reds players and their number stories. Zack Cozart, who admired Ozzie Smith and always wore No. 1 in honor of him, had to adjust when he reached the major leagues and found that No. 1 was retired for Fred Hutchinson. He ended up with No. 2, a number he grew to appreciate, even jokingly associating it with Derek Jeter later on. Jay Bruce always envisioned himself as Ken Griffey Jr. and desired No. 24, but a high school coach assigned him No. 32, and he stuck with it throughout his career, the initial reason remaining a mystery even to him. Billy Hamilton, accustomed to No. 3, was given No. 6 in spring training because No. 4 was already taken, and he was even playfully told by manager Dusty Baker that a single-digit number might make him faster. Even Homer Bailey, who initially wanted No. 21, settled for No. 34 when his preferred choice was unavailable.
These stories, including the origin of the Pete Rose number, collectively paint a picture of baseball jersey number traditions. They reveal that while some players might have personal preferences, the initial number assignment is often a matter of clubhouse logistics, historical precedent (retired numbers), and sometimes, just plain chance.
Pete Rose’s No. 14, therefore, became iconic not because of a deliberate personal selection, but through years of legendary performance while wearing it. It became his number through association, through his achievements on the field, and through the indelible mark he left on the Cincinnati Reds and baseball history. The retirement of Pete Rose’s No. 14 by the Reds officially cemented its place in baseball lore, ensuring that no other Red will ever wear the number again, a fitting tribute to the player who made it so famous. While Ross Ohlendorf might wear No. 27, the number Rose wore briefly, it is No. 14 that will forever be linked to “Charlie Hustle” and his remarkable career in Cincinnati.
