Baseball Blues

It began with a strike, where even the most ardent baseball fans lamented, "I'll never watch again." Yet, two sluggers gave us a glimmer of hope with a season-long chase that brought baseball back from the grave dug by the hands of its own players. Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa, it seemed, had saved baseball, convincing even the most hard-line skeptics to come back into the fold. Whispers of steroid abuse surfaced but were quickly hushed by the resurgence and economic gain sure to follow. Fast forward to today and the Mitchell report, where we learned, surprise, surprise, that abuse of illegal performance enhancing drugs is indeed widespread and has been since the epic home run battle of 1998. It seems baseball's virtuous witch hunt has reached its climax, now what?

Since the release of the report, I have been grappling with my own feelings and observations about the findings. I've struggled to decide if I care, if it even matters, and I think I've come to the conclusion that this report has saddened me. The Mitchell report reflects a troubling trend in society which is our ever-decreasing lack of good moral and ethical judgment. I'm sad because baseball, because professional sports, lacks character. Sports are what normally help to mold character, discipline individuals, force us to strive for the best, and long for that sense of immortality that comes with breaking records or heck, even earning a finisher's medal in a marathon. Yet, yesterday we realized that our national past time has come to represent a decline in basic character.

I am sad that players, who have abused illegal performance enhancing drugs, have so little character that they have taken up the mantra, "deny, deny, lie, lie," so long and with so much tenacity that somewhere along the way they have convinced themselves that what they tell is truth. I am sick of athletes telling us that they have no idea what they're injecting into their bodies, their main source of income. "Gee, Bob, I had no idea what was in the needle. You can't be suggesting that it is actually my responsibility to monitor what goes in my own body, can you?" Like that is supposed to make it all better. "Oh, I see. Well, we can't hold that against you, now can we, Mr. Baseball?"

At least Marion Jones, for whatever reason, perhaps a conscience that finally caught up with her, had the gumption to stand before us and say (paraphrased), "I'm guilty, and I'm sorry. I take the blame." (On judgment day, perhaps she can stand before the throne and look her Savior in the eye.) I am appalled that these athletes can not only look sports fans in the eye and lie, but that they can lie to their own children. Everybody is doing it, and somehow that makes it right. Shame on you athletes for sacrificing integrity, morality, and character for material gain, for greed. Of course, that is your own problem, or is it?

Senator Mitchell spent much of his speech expressing concern for the youth in this nation who look up to those players. While I have no idea how widespread teenage steroid abuse is, I am saddened that we, as parents, have come to the point that we allow our children to idolize mere human athletes to the point that those children will consider using illegal drugs to enhance their game so they can be just like their idols. Where are the coaches, trainers, PARENTS? Are we not sitting down with our own children to discuss who their heroes are and why? Are we not willing to say, "Well, you know Junior, most athletes aren't using and there is a big price to pay for those who are. If not now, sometime." Remember Ken Caminiti? Are we not teaching our children the benefits of hardwork for hardwork's sake, not monetary gain? When our children begin to use drugs for sports enhancement, shame on us for pointing our fingers to professional athletes when as parents, coaches, teachers, and trainers, we're the ones who dropped the ball somewhere.

I am also saddened that we have laws in this country that we fail to enforce. I KNOW that baseball did not have a policy in play. Say it with me, shame on you baseball! But, the law of this land does state that steroids are a controlled substance and much like narcotics, etc., can't be sold in the back of a gym. So, where is the law in all of this? Mr. Mitchell clearly pointed out in his press conference that the Justice Department does not prosecute users, they focus their efforts on those who sell. What is the point of having the law on the books, then, Mr. Mitchell? It seems that the lesson in this all is: do it, just don't get caught, and if you do, lie, but then we really can't do anything anyway, so why bother. And, I realize that nothing will be done.

Finally, I am saddened by Commissioner Bud Selig. His lack of concern, his lack of effort to stand up to the union, to the owners, to anyone really is appalling. His apparent apathy and lack of action and leadership have helped to propel this scandal to a level that will forever mar the integrity of baseball. He's quietly turned a blind eye to the problem his entire decade-long tenure. Now, baseball finally has a drug policy, but it took all of this for that to even be considered. Shame on you, shame on you, Mr. Selig, you should resign. Perhaps we can place an asterisk next to your name when we look back on this time in baseball history.

What does all of this mean for baseball, for sports? I don't really know. I'd like to think that as Americans we wake up and demand more from our "heroes." I really hope it wakes us up to examine our own ethics and character and allows us to reexamine the values we pass on to the next generation. I know it does not mean that players who used will be prosecuted now, and I don't think they should. This mess is the making of many, not just the players. From henceforth, though, three strikes and you are forever banned from the game. That's what I'd like to see. It won't happen, though. Now we can sit back and wait for the lawsuits, the name calling, the denials......and maybe one day, one day, we can just play ball and know that it's real.

The Doorknob Incident

Two seconds. That's it. I turned my back for two seconds and mischief ensues.

"Stand right here, Pumpkin. Mommy will be right back; I am going to go get my t-shirt."

I walk the three feet from the hallway to the bedroom, grab my t-shirt, and turn around just in time to hear the door slam. Panicked cries soon follow.

"A, what's wrong?" I run to the bathroom door, turn the knob to find it locked. "A! You've locked the door!"

She wails and beats frantically on the door. I hear my keys jingle. Apparently, she grabbed my keys from the purse and was going to try them out on the door. Doing what all good, calm moms would do, I run downstairs, grab the phone and call my husband.

"Hey," I say urgently.
"Can I call you back?"
"Sure, but A's locked herself in the bathroom, and I don't know what to do."

I hang up the phone and jiggle the doorknob. "Turn the thing in the middle, Punky."
"Mama!"
"Hold on, I'll be right back."

I run downstairs, praying all the way that I remembered to shut the closet door. I can just picture A covered head-to-toe in baby shampoo and lotion. I grab a flat-head screwdriver and run back up the stairs.

"Mommy's back, pumpkin." I say trying to console here, while I begin to disassemble the doorknob. The phone rings.

"Hello?"
"Honey, what are you doing?" T asks.
"I am taking apart the doorknob."
"Hold on," says Mr. Sensible. "Is there a hole in the center of the knob?"
"Yes. I've almost got the screws out, though."
"All you have to do is take a coat hanger, stick it in the hole, and turn. The door will unlock."
"Oh," I say. This from the woman who just the night before fell flat on her rear trying to take off her jeans and socks at the same time. "I've got it. It opened."

Anna runs into my arms and we embrace like long lost pals. "Are you all right?"
She hugs me and hands over my keys. Thankfully, the closet door is still shut, and the only thing covered are A's teary cheeks.

"Hey," I say to T. "Thank you. We're okay." I hang up the phone and start putting the doorknob back together. At least I now know how to unlock a door with no key!

All I can say is God bless my poor husband:)