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Baseball: Cheating has always been there |
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Written by Al Hollingsworth
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Sunday, 16 December 2007 |
“The great American game of baseball is a fraud, a treachery and un-American. It offers a regrettable example to the nation’s youth, is populated by cheats, thrives on sneaky tricks, and teaches Fagin values to thousands of Little Leaguers.”
The above paragraph is not a reaction to former Senate majority leader George Mitchell’s report on performance-enhancing drugs, released last Thursday. No, although it could certainly be applied to the shameful revelation that some of the game’s best players used drugs to get bigger and stronger, the quote comes from one of the great sports writers of the 20th century, Shirley Povich. He advanced this thought in the Washington Post on October 20, 1972.
Povich was commenting on the game in general. Abner Doubleday’s game has always been my favourite sport. So, when I read a quote like this, or pour over Mitchell’s report, I get angry. Not at them, because they are right. My furor is with those who cheat in order to bat .300, break home run records, or to win a championship. Not to mention what health problems, physical and mental, await the hundreds of players who have taken steroids.
I could devote this entire dissertation to steroids use, but by now, gallons of printer’s ink have been used by hundreds of journalists, more knowledgeable than this “fan”, delving into the subject.
Not all drugs were injected. In the 70s Gene Mauch was asked his opinion about Dick Allen, a Phillies star who was, to put it mildly, difficult to handle. Mauch thought for a moment and offered this; “I wouldn’t give him a high fast ball or a fast highball.” I drift, a bit.
Author Joshua Prager, in his amazing book The Echoing Green- The Untold Story of Bobby Thomson, Ralph Branca and The Shot Heard Round The World, offers this in generally describing the game. “Baseball has long been a subjective and unfixed game. Its official scorers are fickle. Its strike zone is often reinterpreted. Its outfield dimensions are not uniform. It has no clock. Play halts when an ump determines a shower has turned to downpour.”
Prager cites a number of examples to back up his theory. When the Yankees built their new stadium in 1923, they purposely built a 294-foot porch in right field to aid and abet Babe Ruth’s power swing. The legendary Bill Veeck took it a step further in 1942. the owner of a Milwaukee minor league team, and wanting more home runs, he installed a motorized wire fence that, when needed, moved between innings from right field to foul territory.
The same Bill Veeck, as owner of the St. Louis Browns, sent a midget (an acceptable term in those days) up to the plate to pinch hit. It wasn’t illegal, as Veeck signed Eddie Gaedel to a contract. Some would call this a discourteous act …. I say it’s cheating. Whatever, the next day Will Harridge, president of the American League, voided the agreement.
For the record, the vertically challenged Gaedel wasn’t the first of his kind to be a horsehider. That honour(?) went to Jerry Sullivan, a wee guy who, in 1905, was inserted into the Buffalo Bisons’ (Eastern League) lineup. By the way, politically correct or concern for one’s health were not chart toppers in the so-called golden age of baseball.
Hearken to this. When a New York Giant player hit a home run, the broadcasters, Ernie Harwell and Russ Hodges, would announce that 600 Chesterfield cigarettes would be on their way to the boys in hospital. Try that one today.
In 1961, Norm Cash led the Detroit Tigers and the American League in batting with a sizzling .361 average. Years later it was revealed that he used a corked bat to accomplish the feat.
Pitchers in particular are prone to cheat. By doctoring or scuffing the ball, they attempt to alter the flight of the pitch, thus fooling the batter. This for a “W” with little or no concern for the batter standing just 60 feet six inches away, trying to guess in a second or two what a ninety-mile-an-hour fastball will do. It’s a wonder there hasn’t been a fatality or two from this unthinking act.
Over the years, we have seen groundkeepers tailor the infield grass to assist a good bunter or to negate one from the dugout opposite. Fields have been heavily watered to slow down fast runners, and managers have used coaches and players to steal signals. Not by peering in, attempting to pick up finger movements, but to station them in some out-of-the-way place, equipped with a telescope or high powered glasses, to steal signals and relay them, electronically or otherwise, to the batter.
Which, by the way is the essence of The Echoing Green. I will say no more, other than what a remarkable effort by Joshua Prager. Buy the book!
(Al Hollingsworth is a retired journalist who could hit a long ball. Alas, he couldn’t hit a round one)
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