A Contrarian Take on the Old Ballgame
I know the rest of the world is growing tired of the Red Sox-Yankees rivalry. Hey – we’re sorry you root for uninteresting teams. Stop complaining. The Red Sox and Yankees have enhanced your life and you know it, you bitter, jealous titmouse. But the latest episode in the ongoing saga needs a bit of perspective, and as we all know, when it comes to the Red Sox-Yankees rivalry, I’m the guy for that.
I really do not think I am being a Red Sox fan apologist when I say that ESPN was almost comical in how big a deal they made of the Gary Sheffield run-in with the fan in the stands last night. My favorite, but also the most contemptible, part of the whole situation was how the announcers and every commentator from the minute it happened made it sound as if the fan threw a punch at Sheffield. Of course Sheffield played that card as much as he could after the game. But watch the video (we’re destined to see it another 385,000 times anyway). By no estimation can a reasonable person assert that the guy was throwing a punch or trying to pop Sheffield. No way. He took a little swipe that almost looked as if he wanted to try to get the ball, but this is as big of a much ado about nothing case as I’ve seen in a long time. Incidentally, Sheffield is a bit insane, but that guy in the stands was a big dude and he wasn’t exactly backing down. In any case, the fan should have been thrown out of the game – largely because he interfered with play, though even that was overstated, as Sheffield reacted after he had the ball in his hands. I do wonder why no one has made this point – they celebrate Sheffield’s composure (our standards have clearly sunk - -Sheffield is being hailed for not punching a fan; oh Ron Artest, what hast thou wrought?) and yet forget to point out that rather than finish the play, he first pushed the fan.
My second point may be even more controversial, but it’s been percolating for a while and I am going to say it: Steroids were not forbidden in baseball during the 1980s and 1990s. Granted, they were illegal (at least most of them – some of the drugs were moving ahead of lawmakers’ capacity to address them), but as far as performance enhancement goes, they were not illegal in baseball. This is not splitting hairs. People are talking about attaching asterisks willy nilly against people who have not been shown to have used steroids in the first place, which is bad enough, but they are trying to add asterisks to something that was not forbidden by the sport. I don’t mean to try to quell the hysteria, but what precisely are people claiming? One could, I suppose, claim that the very illegality of the act makes its use prima facie verboten in baseball. OK. Then I expect that we will be vacating the World Series titles of every team that had serious drug abuse issues (The Kansas City Royals’ clubhouse in 1985 looked like Tony Montana’s rumpus room) and taking away awards from every stupid meathead who has ever hit his girlfriend? After all, those things were ILLEGAL!
Baseball absolutely dropped the ball by not addressing this issue earlier, and that we should condemn. And as someone who ran track in college and beyond, I loathe steroids. I loathe the idea that clean athletes are tainted by the dirty ones, that athletes might actually be put in a position to decide what is more important, being able to compete or long-range health. It is because of those athletes who have used banned drugs that decent-but-not-world-class Division III track athletes (ahem) would have to piss into a cup at big track meets if they won, placed, or got unlucky in the draw. (And if you want to talk about a process that strips everyone involved of their dignity, well, let me tell you – when you just finish competing, are still sweaty and tired, they don’t give you a cup and point you to the bathrooms. There is serious and close scrutiny involved. It’s like being a Culkin at the Neverland Ranch.) But for all of the serious and stern criticisms I have of illegal performance enhancing drugs, baseball DID drop the ball. Even if that knuckle-dragging, ridge-browed Dryopithecus Jason Giambi did use steroids (and it seems that he did), he may deserve our censure, but he does not deserve punishment from baseball except for illegal acts that he committed. And given that the baseball record book is littered with criminals, cheaters, and ne’er do wells, it would be utterly inappropriate to take action now against guys who used steroids when illegal spitballs, corked bats, stealing signs, and other things that were banned at the time they were stealthily carried out have not blighted the record books with asterisks, never mind the continued standing of all records earned prior to 1947 and the integration of modern baseball. Punishing players who (allegedly) used steroids in the 1990s would be the ultimate example of the establishment of an ex post facto law.