The Underground Insight 09.17.07: When Cheaters Prosper
Posted by JD Koziarski on 09.17.2007
Calls to clean up sports penetrate the offices of every sports commissioner and, lately, have even reached the world of pro wrestling. This week, the Insight takes a look at cheating in baseball and why sometimes cheaters are given a pass (and in one case, enshrined).
A New Format
Before I get to the column this week, I need to announce a new format. Actually, it's more like I'm getting rid of the old format. For myriad reasons, I will now simply be putting out a 750-1000 word column weekly. All the subsections are going to go by the wayside (what is a wayside?). Things were moving in that direction anyway. So, let's get to the column.
Cutting Corners
On the New England Patriots sidelines last Sunday, a team employee focused a camera across the field onto the defensive signals of the New York Jets. This photographic espionage, a violation of NFL rules, and the ensuing punishment (appropriate for the real severity of the crime) has sparked intense discussion about cheating in sports.
Action similar to the Patriots' has been rumored to take place in baseball for the longest time. Various types of cheating, from scoreboard signals, to odd air conditioning patterns, to doctoring baseballs has become a part of the lore of the game. And all of this is, to an extent, tolerated. On the other hand, performance-enhancing drugs are strictly forbidden.
During the 2006 baseball season, the Chicago White Sox pounded the St. Louis Cardinals two consecutive nights, 20-6 the first and 13-5 the second. After the series, the Cardinals accused the Sox of using a centerfield camera to steal signs.
Years ago, the Minnesota Twins were thought to use the direction of the air flow in the Metrodome to create favorable wind currents for the home team. Dick Ericson, a former Metrodome employee, has admitted to the practice.
And one man, Gaylord Perry, is known primarily for two things. The first is his penchant for searching for any advantage he could to fool a hitter. Spitballs, sandpaper, and whatever other foreign substance he could find was fair game for Perry. People laugh about Perry's cheating. The other Perry calling card? He's in the Hall of Fame.
So then why is it that the White Sox were never seriously investigated? Or why were the Twins never reprimanded? And how did the writers decide to enshrine Perry, when many of the same men will never put Barry Bonds or Mark McGwire on their ballots?
A first positive test for performance-enhancing substances is a 50 game ban. A pitcher who doctors a ball is ejected. If he's a starter, he'll miss a game. Maybe two. A hitter who corks a bat and is caught will miss a handful of games or more, but he certainly will never miss 50 games.
Sammy Sosa's exploding corked bat is a punch line – so is his obvious, though unproven, abuse of certain substances, but that is much more mean-spirited in nature. Sammy Sosa was a surefire Hall of Famer regardless of the corked bat, but the Game of Shadows has darkened his enshrinement likelihood. After all, it would seem Sosa has cheated in all possible ways.
I'm here to say that despite appearances, we are not being hypocritical. Stealing signals is gamesmanship, and sticking a needle in your backside is not. Even if you come by those signals through the use of technology, it is, at its core, still "part of the game." Of course, the practice is against the rules, and when caught a player or team or coach should be punished.
The truth is that sign stealing or ventilation alterations or rubbing a little pine tar on a baseball all happen on the field of play. It's looking for an edge with what you've got. And, perhaps most importantly, nobody is breaking any laws in the process.
The performance-enhancing drug users have taken the game to a new level. It's no longer Jason Grimsley doing his best Jack Bauer impression as he scurries through the bowels of Comiskey Park to retrieve Albert Belle's corked bat. It's Jason Grimsley's house being raided by the federal government for a number of violations of the law.
Barry Bonds, Jason Giambi, and the others involved in the BALCO scandal were not just cheating. They were cheating at cheating. Coming up with a way to outsmart your opponents, even if against the rules, takes cunning and guile. That's why we cherish it. There is nothing cunning about receiving a package of pills and cream from Federal Express.
And since all these guys are using their real names and writing checks, they don't have much guile either.
Cheating is cheating, and it should be punished. But just as we don't punish a jaywalker as harshly as a murderer we ought not punish those who sneakily look for a little edge the same as we do those who rely on drugs to transform their bodies into science projects.
And as a viewing public, after this past weekend we need to realize that no matter what kind of cheating takes place the offender is going to tell us they had no idea what they were doing was wrong. Plausible deniability is a beautiful thing, Mr. Belichick.
