The punishment was never too harsh, the man was never a sympathetic figure, and Cooperstown never felt incomplete.

Signs long adorned Major League clubhouses stating that if you bet on a game, you were banned from the sport. Pete Rose defied such warnings while managing the Reds, wagering on his team winning throughout his tenure in Cincinnati.

And still, two things can be true at once: 1) The man disgraced the game; and 2) The man belongs in the Hall of Fame.

Earlier this week, MLB commissioner Rob Manfred removed Rose and 16 other deceased people from the league’s permanently ineligible list. The most prominent name aside from Rose was “Shoeless” Joe Jackson, the “Field of Dreams” protagonist who accepted money in the infamous “Black Sox” scandal, in which the White Sox threw the 1919 World Series.

So now the Hall of Fame may be welcoming new individuals who were banned for life for previous misconduct. And though it won’t be left up to the baseball writers — but rather the 10-person Historical Overview Committee — I’d vote for Rose if given the chance. More on why in a second.

First, I should note that I once penned a column saying I would never cast a Hall of Fame vote for beyond-a-reasonable-doubt performance-enhancing-drug users. The justification was multi-faceted. For one, players such as Mark McGwire, Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens permanently discolored some of baseball’s most sacred stats, cheating for their own gain at the expense of the game. Second, even if some (like Bonds and likely Clemens) had HOF résumés before roiding up, they never faced tangible punishment from MLB. All the records, the awards, the World Series titles remain intact. The only recourse against their misdeeds was keeping them out of Cooperstown. I stand by that column.

Second, since “Shoeless” Joe has been mentioned, I’m not sure I’d put him in, either. Yes, he hit .375 that 1919 World Series, but A) he put up paltry numbers in the games the White Sox lost; and B) — and maybe C, D, E and F, as well — he took the money for the loss. Whether he was truly complicit in the White Sox’s downfall has been a debate for more than a century, but accepting the dough sealed his fate.

The thing about Rose’s gambling scandal is that he always bet on the Reds. This, of course, doesn’t clear him of tampering. He could have used relief pitchers that needed rest in order to get the win today. He could have played position players with nagging injuries for the same reason. If he solely bet on his team to win the World Series every year, that might have been different. But short-term gain could lead to long-term losses if the manager has money riding on certain games.

Still, I’d consider this a lesser offense than accepting cash for a loss. And as a player, there is no evidence that Rose ever did anything illicit to enhance his performance. Instead, the all-time hit leader carved out a legacy as one of the toughest, grittiest men to ever wear an MLB uniform. A lifetime ban from baseball was a proper sentence for Rose — especially considering he lied about his gambling years afterward. But a permanent ban? Not necessary.

As Manfred explained, Rose and others being removed from the ineligible list isn’t going to cause players, coaches or executives to recalculate the risk of gambling. Short of jail time, lifelong excommunication is as strong a deterrent as one can create. Even if folks thought Rose’s sentence was too severe, he knew the risk he was taking when he bet. MLB caving was never an option.

That said, Rose being out of the Hall of Fame may have done more for his notoriety than getting in ever would have. The man with 4,256 hits not being in baseball’s most hallowed grounds has been a subject of discussion for four decades. That can end now.

I mentioned earlier that Cooperstown has never felt incomplete without Rose … but he would add some flavor. Go ahead and asterisk the hell out of his display if inclined — it’s a critical aspect of his story — but he’s still an all-time great who never disgraced the game while playing.

Inducting Rose is going to come down to what the committee thinks is right. Its decision should be respected.

I have no problem with the Hit King never seeing his bust in Cooperstown. Doesn’t mean the public should never get to.

— Matt Calkins writes for The Seattle Times.