People who know me know that I love baseball. They know that, at our house, we always eat dinner in the dining room, except during October. They know that I adopted a dog from a humane society and named him Willie Mays. They know that I decided I was going to marry my husband when he surprised me on my birthday with plane tickets to NYC and two seats on the first base line to see the Yankees take on the Red Sox on a Friday night. They know that my most prized possession, prior to having children (who are not a possession, but you know what I mean), is my baseball signed by Bucky Dent and Derek Jeter. They know that I gave my oldest son the middle name Aaron for a reason.
Warts and all, I love baseball. And I believe that baseball is one of those things that you can't teach a person to love, just like you can't teach a dog person to be a cat person. Maybe you can introduce her to a really awesome cat, for whom she might develop a particular attachment, but when faced with her choice of pet, she goes canine every time.
I have a friend who says, "I don't trust people who don't like Bruce Springsteen." I feel similarly about baseball. I don't trust people who don't like baseball. And when I say that, I mean real baseball. Not the kind with the big, splashy home runs in every game (boring.) But the kind that involves strategy (Yes! Baseball has strategy!), psychological gamesmanship, and the balletic artistry of a sure-handed shortstop turning a double play.
So being a lover of baseball, this has been a difficult day. I don't like to see my game disgraced, and I do think this is utterly disgraceful. It's not the prevalence of the steroids: I'm not naive, I've noticed that certain players have developed muscles on their ears. (you'll notice that my Baby Daddy, Derek Jeter, was not named anywhere. He's all real.) It's the way the game condoned it and even encouraged it. Having read most of the Mitchell Report today, when I should have been working, the most disturbing part was how the scouts, coaches, and team staff would assess certain players by saying, for all intents and purposes, "he was on the stuff, he's not on the stuff now, but he needs to get back on the stuff if he's going to be of any use to us." So not only do they not care that he abuses these harmful drugs, they want him to get back to doing it so they can squeeze a few more useful years out of the old guy. At the same time, these businesspeople are doing all they can to stall any attempts at testing players randomly.
I will leave it to the sports pundits to eloquently analyze the evidence in this report. And I will leave it to the cynics to say that baseball is a business, pure and simple, and that thinking otherwise is childish. Instead, I'm going to survey the horizon for baseball's next great hero...and there will be one. Baseball always resurrects itself.
Baseball has survived many horrific scandals. It has a long history of racism, greed, cronyism, corruption, and drug abuse. So why do I love it and continue to believe in it? I love it because, aside from being a fantastic way to spend a hot summer afternoon, it reflects so perfectly our American culture and society. It acknowledges its problems--though sometimes only under duress--then attempts corrective action. Maybe not consistently, maybe not successfully, but always in public. Based on that history, I'm gambling that baseball will right itself. In a few years, there will be a sincere, hardworking, talented young player to guide the game in a new direction: back to double steals, sacrifice bunts, screwballs, and inside-the-park home runs. In keeping with current trends, he'll likely be from another country (Korea?!) where this is the common style of play. Better yet...Hapa All Stars anyone?
Warts and all, I love baseball. And I believe that baseball is one of those things that you can't teach a person to love, just like you can't teach a dog person to be a cat person. Maybe you can introduce her to a really awesome cat, for whom she might develop a particular attachment, but when faced with her choice of pet, she goes canine every time.
I have a friend who says, "I don't trust people who don't like Bruce Springsteen." I feel similarly about baseball. I don't trust people who don't like baseball. And when I say that, I mean real baseball. Not the kind with the big, splashy home runs in every game (boring.) But the kind that involves strategy (Yes! Baseball has strategy!), psychological gamesmanship, and the balletic artistry of a sure-handed shortstop turning a double play.
So being a lover of baseball, this has been a difficult day. I don't like to see my game disgraced, and I do think this is utterly disgraceful. It's not the prevalence of the steroids: I'm not naive, I've noticed that certain players have developed muscles on their ears. (you'll notice that my Baby Daddy, Derek Jeter, was not named anywhere. He's all real.) It's the way the game condoned it and even encouraged it. Having read most of the Mitchell Report today, when I should have been working, the most disturbing part was how the scouts, coaches, and team staff would assess certain players by saying, for all intents and purposes, "he was on the stuff, he's not on the stuff now, but he needs to get back on the stuff if he's going to be of any use to us." So not only do they not care that he abuses these harmful drugs, they want him to get back to doing it so they can squeeze a few more useful years out of the old guy. At the same time, these businesspeople are doing all they can to stall any attempts at testing players randomly.
I will leave it to the sports pundits to eloquently analyze the evidence in this report. And I will leave it to the cynics to say that baseball is a business, pure and simple, and that thinking otherwise is childish. Instead, I'm going to survey the horizon for baseball's next great hero...and there will be one. Baseball always resurrects itself.
Baseball has survived many horrific scandals. It has a long history of racism, greed, cronyism, corruption, and drug abuse. So why do I love it and continue to believe in it? I love it because, aside from being a fantastic way to spend a hot summer afternoon, it reflects so perfectly our American culture and society. It acknowledges its problems--though sometimes only under duress--then attempts corrective action. Maybe not consistently, maybe not successfully, but always in public. Based on that history, I'm gambling that baseball will right itself. In a few years, there will be a sincere, hardworking, talented young player to guide the game in a new direction: back to double steals, sacrifice bunts, screwballs, and inside-the-park home runs. In keeping with current trends, he'll likely be from another country (Korea?!) where this is the common style of play. Better yet...Hapa All Stars anyone?
1 comment:
Just am reading your post...Damn woman...I gotta give you some mad props. If you love baseball, you rank up there with J-that puts you at goddess like standing...but, please...you've got Bucky effin' Dent's autograph?
and...you've reached high standing again with your feelings toward BRUCE...
"The screen door slams...Mary's dress waves. Like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays..." Nobody writes lyrics like that!
Kudos...Big Kudos...
Post a Comment