by JohnnyBlazers » Thu Mar 09, 2006 3:36 pm
Today's NY Post had a good article from Mike Vaccaro. He points out that
the Chicago Black Sox were acquitted in their trial, but subsequently banned for the good of baseball by then Commissioner Mountain Landis. No law was violated then, but a higher moral & ethical standard was set by the Commissioner. This is what Selig should aspire to, but he is so weak its pathetic. If someone is as culpable as the cheating players its the owners for having hired a fellow owner to be Commissioner. Talk about a conflict of interest! As attendance rose, they weren't about to rock the boat, steroids or no steroids. Bonds is a beacon of what's wrong. It would be a monumental farce if he broke Aaron or Ruth's records - the commish should kick him out "...as a detriment to the game" I've pasted the article so you guys can check it out:
March 9, 2006 -- TAMPA - Bud Selig's mission is clear now, and simple: He has to protect The Number. He has to make certain "755" remains the gold standard for power hitters for as long as he can, until a ballplayer approaching Henry Aaron's skill, talent, and on-field integrity reaches the doorstep the right way. These are the days that will define Selig's legacy. Barry Bonds is the noose that strangles his game, and will for as long as he is permitted to take aim at what always has been the sport's holy grail. Seven-fifty-five is more than just a number. Starting right now, it is a sacrament. And Selig must defend it with every ounce of his power, or risk being known forever as an accidental tourist who stumbled into the commissioner's office and never learned to turn on the lights. Selig was greeted by an army of inquisitors in Arizona yesterday, at the World Baseball Classic, everyone wanting to hear his reaction to "Game of Shadows," the book that all but suggests Bonds should be taking batting practice at the Watergate hotel.
"I will review all the material that is relative in every way," Selig said yesterday, choosing his words cautiously. "At some point in time I'll have further comment, but until that point in time I will have no further comment."
Nobody wants Selig to talk before he thinks, to give us viscerally pleasing sound bytes, because that would accomplish nothing. He can step warily and carefully, that's fine. But there must be official repercussion and ramification for the avalanche of evidence currently mounting before Bonds.
Selig wouldn't talk about possible solutions yesterday because he wouldn't talk about much of anything. But one thing is certain: There simply cannot come a day when baseball lends official ceremony to a 756th career home run from a man who has spent the past seven years emptying his medicine cabinet into his veins, and continues to deny, deny, deny, even as it becomes more laughable with each refutation.
Bonds had nothing to say yesterday, although his attorney, Michael L. Rains, took up his client's predictable case, intimating that the reporters who've built the most compelling case against Bonds are in it for the cash, ignoring scores of on-the-record sources to instead scoff at anonymous contacts who, in Rains' words, "would expose their lack of credibility."
"The exploitation of Barry's good name and these attempts to eviscerate his sensational accomplishments in all phases of the game of baseball ... may make those responsible wealthy, but in the end, they need to live with themselves," said Rains, who is paid handsomely to espouse such disingenuous denial.
The rest of us are under no such fiduciary responsibility. We can use our own eyes and employ our own common sense. So must Selig. He still owns the sweeping powers of the "best interests of the game" clause, and he must be prepared to use them.
And before the bleeding hearts among us start screaming about due process, about "innocent until proven guilty," remember this: When Kenesaw Mountain Landis solved baseball's last calamity 87 years ago, he did so by permanently expelling eight White Sox players who already had been acquitted in a court of law.
Landis' courtroom had higher standards than Chicago's did. So, too, must Selig's.
Selig fell in love with baseball watching Aaron's great Braves teams of the 1950s. In many ways, we have Aaron to thank for Selig, and Selig certainly has Aaron to thank for helping him etch a place in baseball's pantheon, not so bad for a used-car dealer.
Now it's time for Selig to pay Aaron back. Selig must guard "755" with the vigilance of a hot playoff goalie. He must utilize his powers for good, as he did in preventing the 2002 lockout, as he did in adding teeth to baseball's steroid policy. Baseball's very fibers are built on its numbers.
"I remember when I was a kid, playing dice baseball games in my neighbor's basement," Joe Torre said yesterday. "It's always been a game that revolves around numbers and statistics."
Seven-fifty-five being the biggest number of all. Someday, Alex Rodriguez likely will zoom past it. He should be the first. He must be the first.
Bud Selig has to see to it. His legacy is counting on it. So is his sport.
michael.vaccaro@nypost.com