Month: December 2004

Adios, Amigos

The seven-year itch was strong enough to sour the relationship between Pedro Martinez and the Boston Red Sox to the point where negotiations to bring the future Hall-of-Fame pitcher back for at least a few more seasons were little more than pomp and circumstance. Truth be told, there was little to no surprise from the Boston front office and Red Sox fans when Martinez decided to take his show from the Fenway to Queens to the tune of a guaranteed four-year deal with the Mets. The biggest question now becomes why Martinez would chose to join a club that had not seen a winning season since the run to the World Series in 2000 and finished 20 games below .500 last season, the only team who had a payroll above $100 million that missed the playoffs. Of course, as typical of players who bolt via free agency to other teams, it was less about money and more about respect; yeah, right.

For nearly seven seasons, having Martinez pitch every fifth game almost guaranteed a win that day for the Boston nine. People came to the park, waved Dominican flags, posted his strikeout total for the game in the upper bleachers, and chanted his name as he stared down every batter through the order, never afraid to throw a little inside or fire one right through the heart of the plate. Whenever a batter did reach base, fans reacted with disbelief, unable to fathom the possibility; they also knew that, when it became necessary, he would reach back into his pocket for that strikeout to snuff any threat. Watching him pitch was always reason to tune in, no matter who the opponent would be.

So it was no coincidence that as his stock grew, so did his arrogance. People who knew him long ago when he was coming up through the minor league system of the Los Angeles Dodgers, a team that he longed to pitch for as a youth sitting under that mango tree in Santo Domingo, noticed the self-confidence he exhibited and how determined he was to prove himself as had his older brother, Ramon. With just a slight build but a whip for an arm, it took quite some time for him to prove his worth. When the Red Sox offered to trade with the Montreal Expos for his services in the winter of 1998, that was when he realized that he had arrived on center stage in a city that thirsted for an end to a championship drought.

As Pedro quickly became a legend in Boston, he found himself believing that he was invincible and that the rules did not apply to him. Why should anyone question his actions outside the lines when he was doing so much for the team on the field? Whether it was showing up late for spring training, snubbing a chance to pitch in the All-Star game so that he could fly to the Dominican for a family vacation, or staying behind in Boston during the sixth game of the 2004 American League Championship Series, he felt that the only responsibility he had was to win games. He enjoyed rock-star status among his legion of fans and, through the fault of both the club and himself, he was allowed to be Pedro.

Now, the team is moving in a new direction. No long does the term, “25 players, 25 taxis,” apply to this club. With an ownership and a front office determined to follow the model that the New England Patriots football club have created in putting together two NFL champions in three seasons, it is the whole and not the individual that makes up the team and that philosophy must be accepted by each player that walks through that clubhouse door. Pedro Martinez obviously did not fit that model and, despite efforts contrary to this philosophy to bring him back into the fold for perhaps a few more seasons, the organization was quietly thrilled to have the albatross gone.

It cannot be stressed enough that Martinez obviously put every ounce of energy into helping his club finally realize the dream of a World Series championship. To a man, his teammates will tell you that he was all business on the mound, and the fans that loved him could see that in his eyes. Unfortunately, the price of his services was much greater than the value of any contract. All that we, as Red Sox fans, can do now is say thanks and goodbye to Pedro, and look forward to what should be an exciting time for baseball in Boston.

Tainted Love

When the San Francisco Chronicle finally let the cat out of the bag this week and detailed the testimony that several sports figures, including baseball’s Barry Bonds and Jason Giambi, gave in the BALCO investigation, it was no surprise to what people had long suspected. In fact, the proverbial bag was more like the plastic recycling bags that the sanitation department requires so that they can see exactly what we are pitching to the curb; the revelations did nothing more than prove what many had known for some time.

Bonds is well on his way to clobbering Henry Aaron’s career home run record by the early part of the 2006 season, but it will be an empty accomplishment. Even Hammerin’ Hank, as detailed in an article for theAtlanta Journal-Constitution today, has lost his admiration and support of the San Francisco slugger’s pursuit. “Any way you look at it,” he carefully pondered, “it’s wrong.” As for Giambi, the Yankees are looking to void the remaining $80 million contract that the New York slugger signed before the 2002 season that will keep him in pinstripes for the next four seasons, although most of the motions being made are merely academic and it would be difficult to show a correlation between his health problems in 2004 and his admitted drug use.

The steroid scandal is about to blow up in the face of Major League Baseball and the time bomb has been ticking long enough and loud enough for anyone to hear it clear across the country. Fans have been casting a suspicious eye on the field for the better part of recent years as the balls fly out of the park at an alarming rate and these stories only further lends discredit to the players. Now the federal government looks to act on the matter; Arizona Senator John McCain, who has warned baseball in the past to do something to police the players, has threatened to introduce legislation that would force the hand of the league to act on the issue.

Baseball will survive this latest scandal because the love of the game will conquer all. The fans love baseball in the purist sense: the smell of the grass, the color of the infield dirt and the uniforms, and the drama of a season from the early moments of spring training to the final out of the World Series. Every play and every game has the potential to be something magical. Whether it’s a line drive into the gap, a flashy double play, or a close call at the plate that makes or breaks the game, we rise from our seats to watch and either groan at misfortune or cheer in triumph. Those moments reveal the child that still thrives in each and every one of us that admires the bold beauty of the sport that has become an American icon.

However, to keep that fantasy intact, the owners and the players must now end the charades and agree together on a stronger policy that will hold players accountable for actions unbecoming of the game. Baseball’s dirty little secret is no longer that and it’s time for action to speak louder than words. It is not a matter of personal civil liberties as the Players Association has long argued; even most players now feel that they must answer the critics and submit to drug tests just to prove that they have followed the rules. The cold, harsh reality is that a percentage of the product that Major League Baseball puts on the field is tainted. In the past, it may have been about business, but the league can no longer do what it takes; it must do what is right.

There are plenty of arguments for stronger drug testing: Jose Canseco, Daryl Strawberry, and Ken Caminiti are three reasons that instantly come to mind. There are also those high school players who are hurting themselves more than they know because they believe that drugs are the answer to a career in professional sports. Most of all, the strongest argument is that it must be, at the most basic element, for the love of this game. As James Earl Jones’ character Terence Mann in Field Of Dreamsasserted as he looked over Ray Kinsella’s baseball diamond in that Iowa cornfield: “The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball… This field, this game; it’s a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good and it could be again.” Come on, baseball; make us once more enjoy and believe in the good of the game.