MUSIC +++ FILM +++ SPORT +++ PHOTO +++ LINK +++ POORLY REASONED POLITICAL OPINION AND STUPID JOKE
SPRT
Because I have more coaching and playing experience than most of my friends and family, I've been asked a lot over the past two years what I thought of the steroids scandal. People couldn't wait to forcast doom and hijinks for this year, forgetting easily that the previous offseason, when the BALCO testimony was first leaked, seemed equally scandalous.
Back in 2003, we all had to hold our breaths. "How will Barry react? Can he handle the pressure? Will he go into hiding?" Again: forgotten. And despite the Poo Holes of the world, plus a balky leg and a blinking AARP card, Barry calmly won another MVP.
So this offseason, with Bonds looking worse, a haggard Giambi apologizing for nothing specific, and the ugly underbellies of Jose Canseco and the late Ken Caminiti spotlighted, I held my breath. Among the less publicized aspects, I pointed out, are that pitchers are said to be more frequent abusers than batters, that "supplements" are a broad spectrum, not a yea-or-nea proposition, and frequently legal, and that no matter the STRENGTH with which you hit a ball, it's still eyes and hands: a grounder's still an out, and a popup's still an out.
(Potentially more unfair than steroids, for instance, are the revolutionary contact lenses a few players, like McGwire, have been using since the late '90s: their tint allows a player with 20/20 vision to pick up a baseball at 20/15 or 20/13, a tremendous advantage. In their primes, Ted Williams, Wade Boggs, and Will Clark were among players with natural eyesight in that range.)
But now's the time. For judgements. Finger-pointing. Bellyaching.
Let's tally the scorecard.
The two most interesting developments over the course of 2005:
1.) It's true that Jose Canseco -- still an egomaniacal yahoo -- may have done more to clean up the game that anyone since Judge Kennesaw Mountain Landis (who oversaw the "live ball" era in the wake of the 1919 Black Sox scandal) or at least Jackie Robinson. Time to stop and think for a moment: Canseco, remember, preceded the 1988 season by predicting he'd be the first man ever to hit 40 homers and steal 40 bases in a single season, then went out and did it.
When Oakland cast him aside, he became a joke in Texas, blowing out his elbow in an ill-conceived pitching stint and using his forehead as a stopover for a bizarre home run -- yet years later, he was going 30-30 for second-rate clubs. Suppose that Canseco had applied himself. That he'd stayed healthy. That he'd tried. Canseco may have been a better natual ballplayer than Mickey Mantle. (Oh: except for the "natural" part.)
MORAL: In the Dr. Suessiest of senses, there's someone you'd better be glad you're not. All the looks, most of the hubris, none of the talent: former A's washout and identical twin to Jose, Ozzie Canseco.
2.) "Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain." I'll never forget watching Barry calmly assess Dennis Springer's meandering knuckler, then mash it bayward for homer number 73. Other than that, there's only one upside to the steroids mess. Namely: we finally have a better sense of exactly what to hate Bud Selig and his cronies for.
To give you an idea of the seriousness of the situation, a brief flowchart. As Goold Ol' Boys clubs go, baseball franchise owners make Augusta National Golf Club look like the Ayn Rand Fan Club. Selig -- the same man who pushed for baseball to buy, then destroy, his nearest competitor -- was still a full-time owner when George W. Bush ran the Texas Rangers. Palmeiro and Canseco both played for those Rangers. Canseco says that was when he introduced Raffy to steroids. I still don't feel comfortable sealing Raffy's coffin yet, but it is true that he hit eight homers his first year in Texas, and was up to 37 before he left.
Now, Bush is famous for his loyalty (ah, but that's another post.) Even today, Bush says Palmeiro is "a friend" and he believes him. Canseco, for his part, implied that, as an owner, Bush himself had to have known about steroids abuse, but as for direct evidence, well, he "didn't talk much with the Latinos."
Remember, Congress is actually persuing a perjury charge here, which will be tough to prove and tougher to find precidence for, with the exception of the Lewinski blood-lust debacle. So the implications are significant. For more context, remember that baseball enjoys a tremendous profit from their congressionally awarded, and certainly outdated, anti-trust status; remember, too, that baseball owners as a whole were among Bush's largest private campaign donors in 2004.
The easiest fodder for conspiracy theorists is the timing of the Palmeiro bombshell. Raffy was an iffy Hall Of Fame candidate before his 3,000th hit, a sure-fire lock after it. He tested positive before he got the hit, appealed in secret, lost, and was allowed to achieve the milestone before the test results were revealed. The announcement, in fact, came the day after this year's Hall Of Fame ceremony, presumably because no one in charge wanted Reggie Jackson and others standing at a podium in Cooperstown, warming up to questions on the modern player's unfair edge.
Some have suggested that Bonds has deliberatly gone into hiding this year, invoking the Steve Miller clause in his contract that allows him, in times of duress, to "go on, take the money and run." The one thing that does seem clear is the Giants know no more than you do, and never have, about Barry's status. Leading up to the trade deadline, the Giants' front office faced the torturous decision of whether to accept their poor record and sell out of the woeful NL West race. Their soul-searching must have centered on whether the team survive Barry's absence long enough to sneak into the playoffs, where they'd likely improve greatly with his return (and that of closer Armando Benitez. In the end, they wound up hedging bets by trading up for Randy Winn, but otherwise mimicking the league by staying status quo.)
Hours after the deadline, Barry mentioned on his website that he didn't want to put next year at risk by, you know, playing this year.
Thanks, Bar.
MORAL: To quote Beck, "Don't believe everything that you breathe."
SPRT
In other news, watch out for newly promoted Mariners prospect Felix Hernandez. Young pitchers must be taken with a grain of salt at this time of year -- see Noah Lowry's 6-0 2004 -- as talent often meets with success, but inexperience succumbs to veteran competition the second and third times around the league. Hernandez could be an exception. He's not only the youngest player in the Majors, he was younger than anyone in AAA -- or AA, for that matter. He's got a ridiculous curveball, and his heater cracks 97 mph, forcing comparisons to Dwight Gooden (who won a Cy Young award before he was old enough to toast it.) Just as importantly, after yielding a miserly 44 hits in 99 innings entering this year, it appears he has the maturity and intellegence to use his weapons much more wisely than, say, our defense department.
As for the Giants, it looks like they've finaly got around to reading my post from two weeks ago: they're sticking with the young kids in the rotation, and Felipe's quote was, "It's not like we're throwing in the towel, but...''
MR
QWTOFDY
"I ain't sayin' you treated me unkind,
You could have done better, but I don't mind --
You just kind of wasted my precious time
So don't think twice, it's all right."
-Bob Dylan
