Baseball & Drugs: Whose good? Whose Bad?
This is an article I wrote that is awaiting publication. You lucky blog readers get first view.
If you want to download a PDF pritable version go here
So I guess the jury has spoken through their newly elected foreman Curt Schilling. Barry Bonds is a cheater. According to Schilling’s statements on Boston’s WEEI, Barry has cheated on his wife, his taxes, and most importantly Baseball. Schilling also said that Barry had shifty eyes, did not look “trustworthy”, and he heard from someone that Barry had attended meetings with Al Queda types. Oh, by the way, Barry likes white women and does not believe in God.
Of course Barry has never admitted to any of the first three things nor are any of the other statements true, relevant, or important. But I figured since we live in an age where anyone can fling a statement against the wall to see if it sticks, I just wanted to see if my lies would stay out there, or better yet come back to me like the children’s telephone game.
I have been concerned in recent days as I have watched the media, players, and public pile on in destroying Barry Bonds. These attempts seem to me hypocritical at best and, yes, racist at their worst.
Baseball loves to sell itself as the pure American ideal. We think of images like the scruffy haired farm boy making it to the “bigs.” Playing backyard games with childhood friends long gone. Having a catch with Dad. A willow tree serving as second base. Yankee stadium after the attack on the world trade center as New York and America emerges victorious. These images are tied into our very own dreams of the beautiful ideals we hold about our country and unfortunately they are just that…Dreams. Ideals. But far from the truth. Baseball is running from its own ghosts in the same tracks as America itself. Its hard to tell the cart from the horse when comparing the specific culture of the major leagues and America’s culture at large. We are no longer the country that exports its glorious products from the midwest, we import them from a cheaper place, just as our players are imported. Our neighborhoods are so dissected that a game of baseball with nine kids on each team, who can get along and play with nine other kids, is a distant dream. Dad is often not around to play catch. And if you remember, New Yorker’s bravery may have shocked the world after 9-11 but, quite symbolically, the Yankees lost that series to the Diamondbacks and now our country is mired in a 5 year war which gets bloodier everyday.
You see, baseball is just like real life but baseball does not want you to know that. They need you to BELIEVE like a church needs you to believe. If you do not believe you will not come to church. Which means the offerings go down while the church goes under. So if you want to keep a ring on Monsignor Bud Selig’s finger you better believe in your gods and hate your devils. So we hold sacred our DiMaggio and our Williams and we despise our Pete Rose or Shoeless Joe. We love our benevolent god Hank Aaron and we despise our devil Barry Bonds. But as anyone can tell you who has come to explore and embrace a faith of their own, its never that easy.
The last time I checked America was at war on drugs. The illegal ones that is. Alcohol, which statistics point out is involved in more crime and deaths than all the other drugs combined, is acceptable and exempted. But in general we see drugs ruin lives and have developed responses. Addiction tears families apart. Overdoses shatter lives filled with potential. And illegal drug trafficking is at the heart of American crime. This epidemic spreads from the inner-city crack den to the midwest meth lab. We are a nation on drugs and simultaneously at war with them. We need our drugs but we don’t like that we need our drugs. Because, in the back of our minds, we know that for every drunk on the street there is a drunk in the CEO chair with a Martini. For every 17 year old girl on crack there is a 30 year old mom on speed and Prozac. For every young teen smoking weed there is a father smoking the same stuff and then popping his Cialis. This is a rather grim assessment I know but if we search our minds we must realize that we are constantly living in this dichotomy. So when we look at baseball why should it be any different than Real Life. I assert that, like everyday life, baseball has been a game of drugs for years and it is still and shall ever be. The policy can be summed up with the famous line about life in New Jersey: “Everything’s legal as long as you don’t get caught.” (Cont’d)
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