Baseball, We Need to Talk... It's Not You, It's Me.

I wanted baseball to be innocent again.  I needed baseball to be innocent again.  I hoped that baseball was innocent again.  And eventually, I believed that baseball was innocent again.  But this week went and showed me that I had been naive and gullible once again.  I felt a small pang of the loss of innocence coming from Pujols leaving the World Series Champion St. Louis Cardinals, a franchise he played his entire career with (including minors), to pursue greener (get it?) pastures in Los Angeles with the Angels.  But that wasn't too much pain for me, because I had already come to the conclusion before that players are not fans, their job is to play baseball and make the most money while they are at it, they are human beings and as we all know, everybody has their selling price.  Pujols happened to find an offer that he felt was best for himself and his future, and human nature would not allow him to give up his personal happiness for the happiness of others.  While I don't want to condemn Pujols for being a human, cases like this show us how precious players like Craig Biggio, Chipper Jones and Joe Mauer are playing their entire careers with a single team, and even going as far to giving their career franchises a hometown discount.  That's not what a player would do, its what a fan would do.

Human nature at it's purest.

But once I got over this and maintained a large proportion of my baseball innocence, last night dropped a megaton bomb on everything I wanted to believe, and the irony of No Doubt's song Ex-Girlfriend playing on my shuffle right now is the perfect analogy of what being a modern baseball fan is.  Being a baseball fan is the same as being a single person in the dating world, you try to keep your hopes high that the worst parts are behind you and that only happiness awaits you, but you can never be completely sure.  Let me explain.   I was a child during the steroid era, an eight year old watching what seemed to be one of the greatest baseball seasons in history as Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire battled for home run dominance over Roger Maris, I remember that summer very well and my naivety believing that the players of my time are truly some of the greatest ever.  I was 14 years old when Barry Bonds broke the home run record once again, once again sitting on the couch praying that I could witness history repeating itself, even though the allegations of PED use were starting to seep to the surface of baseball, and I was well aware of the potential artificiality of what I was seeing.  But there is also one moment of my life that I will remember forever, on my 17th birthday, I sat on my couch watching the San Francisco Giants play, I argued with myself after all my family had gone to bed about how I was going to respond when Barry Bonds broke yet another home run record, his PED use was just about as well documented as it ever would be, yet he hit his 755th home run off of Clay Hensley (who was formerly suspended for PED use in the minors) which made me feel maybe there was a level playing field.  That night I got a birthday present I will never forget, as Barry Bonds hit 756 and my reaction was to run and jump around my living room at 1 A.M.  I woke my parents, I told my father what had just happened, and in the moment it was one of the best things I'd ever seen in baseball (which included the entire 2004 postseason from the perspective of a Red Sox fan).  

Its still a powerful image to me.

When the luster of those moments wore away, I realized that what I had experienced was not completely genuine and I just didn't have enough trust to continue this relationship at the level I was currently at.  This was my first time being alone and without a sport to share my time and life with.  The end of my high school years, I had problems trusting baseball again and while I was able to still like it as a friend, I couldn't find it in my heart to commit myself again, but I was able to dabble around and try all sorts of different things out.  Following soccer for the Euro 2008 tournament was a real good diversion, but it was a hoax, not meant to be real.  I had experienced the equivalent of the first bad breakup through baseball, all the symptoms were there.  But eventually I moved off to college, I was away from home, I was alone, and baseball was there to comfort me. 

I don't want to know which one I was.

I jumped in head first, learning all the new names that I missed the last two years, and remembering all of the good times I had had with baseball in the past.  I couldn't hide it, being a baseball fan is an integral part of who I am.  I was a little hesitant to commit to any specific players again, and was able to get through the PED suspension of Manny Ramirez relatively unhurt.  As the years went on and no notable players were even suspected of PED use anymore, I learned to trust baseball once again, and more importantly the feats of individual players once again.  I was ready to dig as deep into baseball as I ever had before, learning entire team's rosters, tracking standings and league leaders by the day, subscribing to MLB.tvPED use would be regarded for the Hall of Fame as my senior thesis.  Yes, in my mind the Steroid Era was officially over.  

No image could possibly better represent innocence in baseball.

Before this season, I had never been a particularly big fan of Ryan Braun, my best memory of his existence being my disapproval of his being elected 2007 NL Rookie of the Year over Troy Tulowitzki (I really disagreed with the 2007 awards voting).  But I had looked at his statistics over his years and marveled at his consistency, and was starting to be convinced that he was the real deal.  The season went on and Braun continued to show extreme talent and I began to be very impressed with him.  Then came the playoffs, which was the first time I had been able to consistently see Braun play.  He didn't disappoint, in the two series I was able to see him play, he showed me that he had more talent than I had ever imagined, hitting homers that soared distances I would not believe by seeing him, and getting on base at an inhuman rate.  I was completely drawn onto the Ryan Braun bandwagon, I was thinking about buying a t-shirt online, I was researching the periodicity of great Jewish baseball players and I was arguing that he deserved to win NL MVP despite the fact that Matt Kemp's stats were better (but only slightly).  Braun went on to win that MVP award, and I was proud, even though I still had to argue he was deserving a few more times.  Being a baseball fan was great for me, I was identifying talent correctly, I was enjoying the subtle shifts in gameplay since my childhood and the sport was clean.  In other words, I could trust baseball.

I don't understand...

Then, yesterday happened.  It was a textbook time for a breakup to happen, I finally shed my shell protecting me and my feelings to avoid them from being hurt again, I was vulnerable.  Here is how yesterday happened, in play-by-play form.  I received a text message from a friend telling me not to look at anything about baseball on the Internet for a while, so I naturally looked immediately.  Seeing the headline caused me to fall to the ground, stunned.  I didn't know how to respond, so I told all the important people who I felt needed to know so they could soothe me and help me get over it.  I called my brother and told him the news, which was followed by no less than 30 seconds of disbelieving silence, which was then followed by a series of one word sentences.  The next few people who I talked to who had found out on their own brought it up and tried to console me.  The night ended with myself trying to drink it off with some close friends, and myself trying to avoid any analogies to what I had just experienced.  The worst part is that I still don't know how to respond, I'm holding on to hope that it was a false positive, and he will win his appeal and all will be normal again.  I want to defend Braun, I want it to work out and I want this to be a slight speed bump on the road of life.  But in reality, I know I have to acknowledge that it happened and move on with my life.  The part that bothers me the most is how I am having this strong of a reaction to the misfortune of someone I only know of because they are talented at a game.  I guess that is what being a true fan is about, and I wouldn't sell it for all the money the New York Yankees, Miami Marlins or Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim are willing to throw at me.  I'll be fine, but I just have to get used to slight distrust of every player in the league again.

If I need to post this picture in a Steroids column again, its over...