A VIEW FROM THE CHEAP SEATS
By Rich Trzupek
A Little Baseball History
History, by definition, is never written until decades after the fact. Still, let�s take a shot at it. Baseball, our glorious national past-time has changed, dramatically, in ways that our children will look back upon 20 years hence with a sense of wonder. We�ve lived in amazing times, though we don�t realize it.
What has changed you ask? Almost everything.
After the painful strike of 1994, many were ready to write baseball off. It was old-fashioned, two slow and self-destructive. That turned out not to be so, but for the reasons that were soon put forth.
For, in 1998, baseball was reborn�or so it seemed at the time. Just as the mighty Babe had caught the nation�s attention in the 1920s. Mark McGuire and Sammy Sosa sent the turnstiles spinning with an epic, unprecedented display of home-run power. They had, to all appearances, saved baseball.
Except that most everyone now realizes that 1998 was a sham, as would be most everything that happened between then and 2003. McGuire retracted into a painful remorse, which, if it didn�t exactly include a confession, led everyone to that conclusion. Sosa feigned ignorance, equally painful in its own way, for it was equally transparent and not nearly as sympathetic.
Barry Bonds would put up super-human numbers after �98, accomplishments that all but the hopelessly naive were the result of chemistry, not his considerable ability. Bitter, angry and defiant, Bonds would win few friends outside of the San Francisco Bay. As he passed Mays and approached Ruth and Aaron, more and more fans realized this wasn�t history, it was travesty.
When Congress intervened, asking the McGuires, Sosas and Palmeros of the world to account for themselves, many of the pundits shook their fingers. Why should government stick its nose into an institution this sacred?
Because they should, that�s why. Without Congress and the dedication of guys like Hall of Famer and Kentucky Senator Jim Bunning, it might have been decades before baseball took a look at itself. The investigations caught the nation�s attention and, by default, the attention of The Players� Association. A strong, effective drug policy soon followed. It would not have happened unless Congress picked the right moment to �grandstand.�
The game was given back to the people, instead of being surrendered to the bio-chemists. That, in itself, would have been reason enough to rejoice.
Yet there would be more-much more. In 2005, the upstant White Sox would capture the World Series behind a brash, politically-incorrect young manager. The team defied the experts who steadfastly maintained that muscle-bound bastards and big salaries would rule the day. Who could beat the Yankees? As it turned out, almost anyone.
The last winner always defies what future hopefuls strive to attain.
By winning with a mixture of superb pitching, quality gloves, timely hitting and a healthy (but not overwhelming) mixture of power, the White Sox pushed the game back to its roots. Baseball was about teams again, not about stars, and that gave every team a chance.
The World Baseball Classic was another high-watermark. Critics were quick to turn up their noses at the WBC. Who cares about something so mundane as countries competing against each other in this enlightened 21st century?
Nobody, except for the countries that enjoy the game. The WBC was an unqualified success, full of surprises and spirited performances. The players loved it. The fans did too and the ballparks were filled. The intellegenia were surprised. Those of us who love the game were not.
As the 2006 season kicks off, we have entered a new era, one every bit as significant as the long-ball epoch that Ruth christened or the personality-driven 70s. Baseball, once more, has been reborn.
Which is what makes the game unique. It is, whether it consciously realizes it or not, a reflection of our national character. We�re older and wiser. So is baseball. We have become part of the world community.
Our game has as well.
More changes are yet to come. There�s little doubt that is so. It�s part of what makes life worth the effort: a new challenge lies just beyond the horizon.
The season should be the best ever. Perhaps we don�t realize that.
Perhaps we�re too jaded. We shouldn�t be. We have over-come�as a nation and as fans. There are unknown vistas left to explore. In life, and in baseball, that�s what it should be all about.
