The Observer, April 1, 2005
Volume XXXVII, Issue 23
Steroid use taints America's favorite pastime
This was not a column I planned on writing this week. The steroids and baseball issue is one that I have avoided, preferring to write about more pleasant things in the world of sports. However, Gary Smith's "What do we do now?" article in the March 28 issue of Sports Illustrated got me thinking and stirred up some emotion on the subject. Smith put down a few thoughts of his own, but mainly the article is nine solid pages of text from interviews with various people discussing how steroid use and the recent Congressional hearings have affected the way we view baseball. Smith interviewed the people who caught Mark McGwire's historic blasts in 1998, a priest with Giants season tickets, an incarcerated ex-Major Leaguer, and Hank Aaron's son, among others. The 23-year-old soon-to-be college graduate from Cleveland is one viewpoint Smith missed, however, so here it is.
Like many others, I got caught up in the excitement of the Sosa/McGwire slugfest seven years ago. I watched on television as McGwire's 62nd barely cleared the left-field wall and got a chill when he danced around the bases, missing first base as he leapt for joy. I didn't care who won the NL Central, and I didn't give a hoot about the Cardinals, but I was a baseball fan enjoying a historic baseball moment. Sixty-two was an amazing number, and the 70 homers McGwire had by the end of the year was absurd. But almost before we could commit the record to memory, Barry Bonds came along and broke it. And steroids started to come to the forefront. I couldn't tell you where I was or what I was doing when Bonds broke McGwire's record. When it's all said and done, the records that I still hold dear are the ones I memorized as a kid: 714 - Babe Ruth, 756 - Hank Aaron, and Roger Maris's 61 in '61 – not 70 by McGwire in '98 or 73 by Bonds in (what was it?) … 2003?
Being a Cleveland fan affords me some unbiased perspective, I think. The interviews in Smith's article raise some interesting questions, such as "What if Bonds played for the Indians?" and "What if Bonds weren't such a jerk?" Would I feel the same way? It would be easy to say "yes." But honestly, if an Indian were breaking home run records, I'd be cheering. Hell, I cheered for Albert Belle when he was smashing Tribe records, as did most Indians fans, happily blinded by the prospect of a winning team. Of course, Belle only chased down kids in his SUV on Halloween and pegged a fan and a reporter with baseballs on separate occasions – but presumably never used to steroids to cheat … corking a bat was much easier on the kidneys, I suppose. We in Cleveland overlooked that, so I really can't blame Giants fans for still loving Barry. But as an outsider looking in, I can easily shun Bonds and his records.
I would love it if the fans and media came up with ways to belittle whatever Bonds manages to do the rest of his career. Ideas in the SI article included calling his home runs "asterisks" in newspapers, sitting silently in stadiums when he goes deep, and turning our backs to televisions in bars when he comes to the plate. That's all well and good, but will never happen because, as Seth McFarlane, owner of McGwire's 70th home run ball, said, "[People] will say, 'Dammit, I'm just a baseball fan!' because ultimately, most of us like to party."
In the end, it is the conflict of being part of a moral task force and being "just a baseball fan" that comes to a head with this whole steroid issue. Yes, I want a strict policy enforced in Major League Baseball so that hopefully we won't have to worry about asterisks and asking questions. But I got to leave school in the fifth grade to go see the last Indians home opener in the old stadium, and the recent steroid scandal doesn't change the fact that I'll be damned if I miss this year's opener. Yes, I think it would somehow be poetic justice if Bonds were to sit out this year, then never be able to come back to the game and just sit on his 700-some home runs, never passing Ruth and Aaron on the all-time list. But at the same time, I'm going to San Francisco in June and when I heard he might be out for the season, part of me was disappointed because I wanted to see him hit in person and be part of the history he's making, albeit tainted. Like many fans, and, I think, Commissioner Selig himself, I wish this whole ordeal would just go away so I can sit back, relax, and enjoy the game. I hope the day comes soon when I can be "just a baseball fan," without conflict and without compromising my morals.
