Kuzul

Being a Red Sox fan in New York was much different back in 2000.  

My family did not own a high-quality computer—the Macintosh we used allowed little more than writing papers and playing Oregon Trail—and even if we did, the Internet had not become the 24-7 news source that it is today. 

Following baseball’s hot stove was much more difficult.  There was SportsCenter before school and WFAN 20/20 news flashes throughout the day after.  Anything else was gravy.

Back in those days, I slept with my radio tuned in to WFAN.  I would fall in and out of sleep most nights listening to bits and pieces of Joe Benigno’s (and originally Steve Somers’) overnight show.  If I woke up and heard Imus, I turned the radio off.

One night in December, I quickly awoke in disarray, not to Imus or Benigno, but to an update guy reporting that the Red Sox had agreed to an eight-year, $160 million contract with Cleveland Indians outfielder Manny Ramirez. 

Could this be true? 

The Red Sox had pursued Ramirez for weeks, but I never expected them to sign him.  The negotiations mirrored the Sox’s courting of Bernie Williams in 1998.  All along, it felt like Ramirez was stringing the Red Sox along to raise the stakes for the Indians.

I was not sure if I had been dreaming, so I stayed up an extra 20 minutes until the next 20/20 flash to make sure.  Sure enough, it was true: Ramirez was signed.

I woke up for school the next morning as tired as I was hopeful.  Unlike my brother, who entered St. Francis Prep as a fan of the defending World Series champion Red Sox, being a Boston fan at SFP was no easy task for me.  (The Yankees won the World Series three times during my four years there!)  A victory in December was a World Series to me.

Ten years have passed since that December night.  At the time, I never realized how much it would change the complexion of the franchise.  Twenty-five percent of the time that the Red Sox employed Ramirez, they won the World Series.  It may be the most successful free agent contract in MLB history. 

Manny was an offensive artist whose at-bats were his masterpieces.  Baseball knows of no image more beautiful than that of Ramirez standing at home plate, admiring another laser that he just deposited into the Mass Turnpike.

Sure, his tenure was a roller coaster.  But I like roller coasters.  I go to Six Flags once a year. 

Some will say that Ramirez’s involvement with performance enhancing drugs tarnishes his legacy.  I say, get real.  If Major League Baseball cared about performance enhancing drugs, there is a slight chance I would, too.  It is too late for that, though. 

In the meantime, take a quick glance around the sport.  The hypocrisy is all over the place. 

There is Ryan Franklin making good money closing for St. Louis, Edison Volquez starting Cincinnati’s first playoff game in 15 years, Andy Pettitte, who would be welcomed back with open arms the next time Phil Hughes gets rocked, and a list that goes on and on. 

There is a place in baseball for “cheaters”—that is, as long as you are not that good.  

Well, I, for one, do not discriminate against greatness.  On a day when the greatest left-handed hitter of my lifetime was ridiculously convicted of obstruction of justice, I am writing to salute the greatest right-handed hitter of my lifetime.

Cheers to you and your Hall of Fame career, Manny Ramirez.  Baseball will never be the same without Manny being Manny.

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Breaking News:  According to a Major League Baseball press release, Manny Ramirez is retiring as an active baseball player.  As per the press release, “Major League Baseball recently notified Manny Ramirez of an issue under Major League Baseball’s Joint Drug Prevention and Treatment Program. Rather than continue with the process under the Program, Ramirez has informed MLB that he is retiring as an active player. If Ramirez seeks reinstatement in the future, the process under the Drug Program will be completed. MLB will not have any further comment on this matter.”

This would be Ramirez’s second violation of Major League Baseball’s Joint Drug Prevention and Treatment Program.  If Ramirez had cooperated, he would be subject to a 100-game suspension.

 Upon receiving word of Ramirez’s decision, the Tampa Bay Rays released the following statement: “The Tampa Bay Rays were informed today by the Commissioner’s Office that Manny Ramirez has decided to retire after being informed of an issue under the Drug Program.   We are obviously surprised and disappointed by this news.  We will have no further comment on this matter, and our fans and organization will carry on.”

Sounds like Manny’s just being Manny.

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Earlier today, three overqualified Hall of Fame caliber first basemen were denied entry into Cooperstown. 

The first two, Mark McGwire and Rafael Palmeiro, committed their steroid sins and, right or wrong, are serving their time as the first official martyrs of Bud Selig’s “Steroid Era.”

The third player, Jeff Bagwell, committed an egregious crime of his own.  

He had the audacity to be born in 1968.

By having the nerve to play baseball in the 1990s, and playing it quite well, Bagwell has eliminated any hopes of receiving a copper plaque.  His 449 home runs and 1,529 RBI mean nothing.  Getting on base over 40 percent of the time becomes irrelevant.  A career 149 OPS+, that ranks 19th out of all players in MLB history with 8,000 PA, goes forgotten. 

All because he played baseball in the 1990s.

In any other era, Bagwell is a Hall of Famer.  (I do not designate between first-ballot and thereafter.  If a player was not worthy of the Hall in his first year on the ballot, why would he be worthy from then on?  Players do not get better during retirement.) 

A 1970s version of Jeff Bagwell is voted in easily, all while chewing amphetamines during his acceptance speech.  The 1980s version may have done a line of coke off the podium.  But the real Jeff Bagwell’s accomplishments are looked upon negatively because many of his peers used performance enhancing drugs.

Keep in mind, this is one of the few players who have NEVER been involved in any steroid scandal or implications.  Bagwell is being kept out of Cooperstown because he suffers from a case of HisStatsWereALittleTooGood-itis.  A disease that Roberto Alomar somehow survived in spite of his suspect 1998-2001 peak and subsequent fall from the face of the earth.

And therein lies the Hall of Fame’s major problem: There is no way for any good player to prove that he never used steroids. 

As far as I know, Frank Thomas and Curt Schilling are the only two players who spoke out against steroids during their playing careers.  Are we to penalize everyone else?  Or are we going to open Pandora’s Box and pick and choose who we think used? 

(I don’t know about you but Ryan Franklin never really looked like a steroid user to me.  In fact, at 6’3’’, 190 lbs., he has a very similar build to Derek Jeter.  A Jeter whose best power numbers came in 1999, right before signing a massive 10-year contract for those of you interested in red flags.  #jussayin)

No.  We are to accept the past and move on. 

The best players of this generation should be in the Hall of Fame regardless of what substances they may or may not have used to assist them.  What is the BBWAA accomplishing by keeping them out?  They are simply trying to make up for the fact that they failed to report on steroids in baseball as it was happening.

Too late, folks.  What’s done is done.  The retroactive moral punishment of our game’s biggest stars is diminishing the quality of baseball’s most sacred museum. 

When Baby Nicholas takes his first trip to Cooperstown, and he asks me where the great players from back in the Stone Age when I grew up are, what am I going to tell him? 

Me: Well son, um, here’s Ken Griffey Jr.’s plaque.

Baby Nicholas: Cool!  Who did he play against, Dad?

Me: Oh look! Right here!  Greg Maddux!

Baby Nicholas: That’s it?  Just two players?

Me: Uhhh…Did I ever tell you about when Eli Manning marched the Giants downfield to ruin the New England Patriots’ perfect season and win the first of his three Super Bowls?

Baby Nicholas: Yes Dad.  About a thousand times.

Me: Oh.  So are you ready to head home yet?

*Note: Baseball writers must have special powers.  Somehow, they know for a fact that Griffey and Maddux never used steroids.*

It is just foolish.

In an article documenting the indifference that teams show towards failed steroid tests, my favorite writer, Joe Sheehan, discusses how players like Guillermo Mota and J.C. Romero have failed steroid tests yet continued their careers, received multi-million dollar contracts, and in some cases, went on to win championships—while their sin of steroid use has all but been forgotten. 

Sheehan writes, “Players, management and owners have had six years to express their opinion about players who are caught using PEDs, and they have done so in a very clear fashion.  No matter your status, you can be caught and come back to a very lucrative job so long as you keep your mouth shut and take your medicine, and as long as we think you can help us win a championship.”

For all I know, Bagwell may very well have used steroids.  But if major league teams don’t care who uses, why do we?  Let’s not try to rewrite history just because we are unable to rewrite history. 

Vote Bagwell, McGwire, and Palmeiro in 2012.

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Quick question: Which baseball player do you hate the most?

Whether you are a Red Sox fan, Mets fan, or you hate baseball and only know players who frequently are on TMZ, your answer is likely Alex Rodriguez. Hell, many Yankee fans will agree with you.

It is fascinating how one player can alienate so many sports fans. Even Barry Bonds, at the very least, had the undying support of Giants fans. A-Rod gets no such love.

Yet, here A-Rod is today, having smashed the 600th home run of his career. And he keeps plugging along.

Once upon a time, they said he wasn’t built for New York. Believers in clutch ability claimed he wasn’t clutch. When he’d hit a walk off home run, they’d say it was only April. When he’d get a big hit down the stretch, they’d say it wasn’t against the Red Sox. When he’d get a big hit off Papelbon, they’d say it wasn’t the playoffs. When he had a big ALDS, they’d say it wasn’t the ALCS. And so on and so on.

Rodriguez endured more criticism, both of the warranted and unwarranted variety, than any other baseball player of recent memory. He would have been completely justified to leave New York when he opted out of his contract in 2007. He could have taken the easy way out and reached his home run milestones under far less scrutiny in a much smaller market. And he could have done so without having to pretend to still like Derek Jeter.

Instead, he persevered. He wanted to stay a Yankee because his legacy was at stake if he chose otherwise.

And then he won.

Today, we live in an era where the best basketball player alive cowardly sidestepped any challenges, saying “To hell with my legacy. I’m taking my talents to South Beach”.

I don’t think enough has been made of Rodriguez’s contrast: the best baseball player in the world chose to take on New York and achieve his individual and team goals under the spotlight of the world’s biggest stage. If we are to ostracize Lebron, it’s only right to commend A-Rod.

Rodriguez did not run when the going got tough. And his tough was way worse than Lebron’s. (Though, in fairness, I don’t believe Robinson Cano ever slept with A-Rod’s mother.)

Rodriguez has proved that he is built for New York as much as Lebron has proved (or confirmed to those like me who knew this much already) otherwise.

Congrats to Alex Rodriguez for hitting his 600th home run.

Now here’s to hoping No. 601 never comes.

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