Bobblebombed

I wish I could be happy to see that Manny Ramirez is getting a second Bobblehead night, and a poster to commemorate the first one (one of the most exciting nights in recent regular-season Dodger Stadium history for sure).  But I can't be happy.  Not when the Dodgers' good standing is due not to a guy who took a 50-day vacation at the beginning of the year, but to a team coming together.  The "kids", Jacksonville 5 and others, finally growing to fruition.  The supposedly shoddy pitching staff and bullpen becoming one of the best of baseball (due to other teams' staffs being shoddier, I guess).  Juan Pierre stopped sulking about his place on the team and came up big when we needed him to.

But my feelings on Manny are complicated.  I described them best in a post I meant to put up at the beginning of last month, but didn't, saving it to the computer instead.  But since I feel I need to explain why I would feel conflicted about speaking ill of Manny, I'll post it now.  Then off to work for me, and maybe something posted later.

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It's been a long three months since I last posted.  A whirlwind, actually, with the semester, commencement, and just the usual stuff life throws at you from day to day (and quite a bit of unusual stuff as well).  But, if one thing is certain, it's that I have a funny way of keeping a blog going, which is strung with long periods of inactivity. 

 

So what's new?  Well, the Dodgers aren't playing like bums, and it's weird to consistently see them on top of the standings of not only the division, or the league, but all of baseball.  Being 7 years old the last time the Dodgers won the World Series, this is definitely a welcome change of pace.  It's not one person doing well, it's the team running on all cylinders, with slumps few and far between. 

 

Being somewhat used to failure (if not expectant), I don't know how to handle this.  It's good to be on top, and yet I remember the 100-win '04 Cardinals, and of course the 100-win '88 A's, knowing that the regular season is just a prelude, and it seems the best teams during the year burn themselves out by October, while the winning teams are the ones that are playing to get into October at the end of September.  Plus, our pitching situation isn't looking really good at the moment, but then again, whose does?  Gotta give props to the Giants' staff, but their offense is terrible, reminding me of the '05 Dodgers, one of the best pitching staffs in history, but an anemic offense couldn't get them to October.

 

Oh yeah, and that other thing happened.  It was devastating to me, because he had been one of my favorite outfielders this decade.  I loved his attitude (well, except for the sulky, Clubhouse-attendant-pushing antics last summer), the way he was like water, and everything that came his way, criticism, jeers from fans of other teams, anything.  He took to the field in MP3 sunglasses, disappeared into the Green Monster between innings, high-fived fans in the middle of game-busting plays, and was charismatic.  I knew if he had ever made it to L.A., the fans would eat him up like 3-for-$2.70 Taco Nite at Del Taco.  The dude was so Hollywood, he'd be the biggest thing to happen to L.A. since Shaq.

 

Well, we know what happened, so not much for me to say except I support him as wholeheartedly and knowingly as Yankees fans accept A-Rod, Phillies fans accept J.C. Romero, Giants fans accepted Bonds, and whatever else.  Except for Romero, the thing Manny has on most players connected with PED's is that he has actually been punished for it by baseball (and his body will be punished for it over time, if he used certain PED's).  And he still wears the jersey of my team, so I'll support him, just as I'm sure that any fan would support an iconic player of their team once they've had 50 days to run the gamut of emotions associated with that betrayal, a betrayal of the fans, of the sport, and of the athlete themselves. 

 

Not accusing anyone, but imagine what would happen if a player as iconic to their team as Derek Jeter or Albert Pujols was connected to PED's... wow.  It'd be tough to deal with.  It would be easier for a fan to leave the game than to deal with it, and consider taking the player back (if the owner gives them that option).  You'd look over the course of that players' tenure, and wonder how you should look at it now.  For Red Sox fans, perhaps this is a reality, since they've won their two recent "curse"-busting championships with the slugger as a major part of it.  Sure, he wasn't caught then, but if the sport went out of their way to not test a perceived jerk like Bonds, they weren't going to touch the enigmatic star of one of Baseball's beloved franchises.

 

For Dodgers fans, we look back at the Game Over era of Eric Gagne, and the once-proclaimed "heart and soul" of the team, Paul Lo Duca, who we now know was a PED ringleader since his AAA days.  You look at the names in the Mitchell Report, you realize there's a list of 104 names of players who did test positive (not just the top 10 power sluggers in baseball), and see that it's not a case of a few bullies picking on the game, but a culture of cheating that threatens the pastoral sanctity people associate with the National Pastime.

 

For me, I'll take this season with a grain of salt.  It was a little easier dealing with this when we couldn't be bothered with considering why Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa looked like they could double-team Superman and the Incredible Hulk... and win.  They said they were just lifting weights, but I had been lifting weights for 5 years at that point, and I didn't look anything like that.  I'm sure it was easier for Oakland to remember 1988-1990, before Canseco became the Bulked-Up-Bouton of our era, and not think about where all that Bash-ing came from.  It was easier to look back at the 1960's era of the Pitcher, and not think about whether the baseballs were scuffed or how many players were on greenies.  And I'm sure it was easier for kids to love the Babe without wondering how he could run in straight lines after hitting up Happy Hour before many a gameday.  You look at the past, and with all that tobacco they were chewing, and wonder what pills and supplements they might've been hiding in there for that extra edge.

 

Baseball's survived worse, and will see better days once again (just ask Terrance Mann).  For the time being, I'll still be watching, cheering and booing.  And if I was at a game, I wouldn't boo him, I've spent 50 days booing his decision in my heart.  A decision I'm beyond certain that he regrets.  He's been punished, he wants to move on, and I can feel that, since I wouldn't want cameras and mics in my face every time I screw up in life.  Do I like having the advantage last year that the PED use gave us?  Well, I don't like knowing about it.  Knowledge is sorrow, Ignorance is bliss.  Because once I know, I can't condone it, and last year became too good to be true. 

 

Perhaps this year will be different, if we made it.  A team with a known ex (I hope) user against teams that perhaps have unknown users, players who feel invincible and above the rules. 

 

Perhaps this year will be different, because we have a recognizance of the problem now before us.  A recognizance that this isn't an epidemic exclusive to one team or player, but one that is rampant within the sport (unless EVERYBODY stopped.  You can laugh, it's funny).