Baseball Needs a Savior

Unless you are living on another planet you must know that Major League Baseball has taken a hit so hard that not only it's image but the entire game which we know and love is in serious jeopardy. "The Steroid Era" is not going away and most assuredly it never will. It's different than "The Dead Ball Era" simply because players had found a way to destroy the level playing field with illegal steroids and performance enhancing drugs. The history of the game is severely tarnished. Players who were not involved have been unfairly lumped into this group and are resentful that the numbers that they achieved righteously are questioned. Everyone is seriously pissed off. Perhaps what baseball needs is a savior, again.

The story is not. Major League Baseball, no, baseball as a whole, has suffered a critical if not mortal wound this week as the "Steroid Era" has reared its ugly head once more, only this time to take down its greatest star. Not it's greatest asset but it's greatest star. More on A-Holefraudroid later.

This mortal blow to baseball is certainly its own fault, but I need for us to go back to the other two most critical attempts of killing baseball that the game ultimately survived because there came "The Savior."

Flash back; 1919. The Chicago White Sox, clearly the team to beat for the World Series, inexplicably lost the Series with the infamous Shoeless Joe Jackson leading the way to baseball's immortality.

They cheated, they threw the World Series because a gambler was able to get "Eight Men Out." Judge Landis, the iron-handed baseball commissioner, threw the book at them and baseball seemed doomed. It sure looked like it.

Enter "The Savior," Herman "Babe" Ruth. If nothing else, just look at his stats: 142 games (they payed 154 back then), 457 ABs, 158 runs.

Are you kidding me? 172 hits, 36 doubles, nine triples, and an unheard-of 54 home runs. Plus, 137 RBI, 14 stolen bases, 150 walks with only 80 strikeouts, and a whopping batting average of .376. My God. An OBP of .533 and a slugging percentage of .849, the highest ever in his career.

The crowds came in droves to see "The Babe." Hell, they even named a great candy bar after him ( I liked "The Reggie" better). Everywhere he went, the people braved the elements just to catch a glimpse of him.

He once said, "I had a better year and I'm more popular than the President, and I make more money than him too".

Baseball was saved by "The Savior."

Flash forward to 1947. Baseball was struggling again. World War II cost the American people over 100,000 of their young men. You ever wonder how many of them could have been the next Babe Ruth? How many of those lost were African Americans? I have no clue. I could probably look it up, but for the sake of brevity I'm sure the number was significant.

Yet baseball had refused to integrate the sport and now, admittedly, 60 years later it is widely known that not all the best players at that time were playing in the MLB. Baseball was on the verge of tanking once again.
Author Poll Results

Who Could Be The Next Savior of Baseball

*
Alfred Pujols
13.3%
*
David Wright
60.0%
*
Jon Lester
0.0%
*
Write in someone else in your comment.
26.7%
* Total votes: 15

Enter "The Savior," Jack Roosevelt Robinson. I don't need his stats to justify his contribution to this game. We all should know what they were. Jackie and those who followed him led the way to what I believe were baseball's glory years.

Growing up as a Brooklyn Dodger fan, and perhaps I may be biased (Of course I am, I'm from Brooklyn), but the players of that era were beyond belief. There was no free agency and players hardly moved from team to team, and when they did, it was the result of a blockbuster trade like Rocky Colavito for Harvey Kuenn. You identified with players and they made up the team of your choice, and they became your role models and you copied their stance, their swing, their walk, their everything. I could copy "Stan the Man's" stance exactly from the left side and turn around and do the same with Ernie "Let's play two" Banks.

Baseball was saved by "The Savior."

Fast forward once again. 1994. Oye! Greed, corruption, plus the vast growing popularity of the NFL, baseball owners, the Players' Union, and perhaps the most dreaded event that was ever to take place: The players strike again!

Not the first time, either. Unreal! No, it was real and the ultimate slap in the face; no, actually a direct shot to the heart was the cancelling of the 1994 World Series. Seriously, are you kidding me? NO, I'm not. What where they thinking? MONEY, MONEY, MONEY, the proverbial root to all evil.

America's game was totally devastated. Lifelong fans, students of the game, everyday Janes and Joes swore off baseball for good. Even myself, who proclaims to be one of the greatest fans in Mets history has a blank in the years following the strike.

Enter "The Saviors," Mark McGwire and Slammin' Sammy Sosa. 1998. These two muscle-bound (scenes of things to come) players crashed their way into Americas' heart and soul doing what they did best. Slamming the hell out of opposing pitchers on their way to assaulting the magic "No. 61." Roger Maris' record was clearly in jeopardy as early as June of '98.

My take on this is, if it were just one guy alone it would have not had the impact as it did. But to have two polar opposites competing for this sacred record was too good to be true. Mark McGwire, the All-American lumberjack-looking boy, as good as homemade apple pie, against Sammy Sosa, the lovable Hispanic outsider on the world's most favorite underdog team, the Chicago Cubs, against their arch-rival and enemy, the St. Louis Cardinals. Hollywood could not have written a better script.

By September, baseball had fully returned to public adulation and, when on the last day of the season McGwire hit his 70th and Sammy finished with 66, not only was baseball history made but once again baseball needed and received "The Savior."

Honorable mention here to Cal Ripken and the streak. Sure didn't hurt to have that going either, but as future Hall of Famers Greg Maddux, Jon Smoltz, and Tom Glavine said it best, "Chicks dig the long ball."

Fast forward to the present date, Feb. 10, 2009, and once again, and maybe for the last time, baseball is near death.

MLB knew full well in 1998 and earlier that illegal steroid use was running amok in the sport and chose to do nothing about. Their saviors were juiced and, although not illegal yet in baseball, nevertheless it still was illegal and yet baseball chose to sweep it under the rug. You know when you do that sweep thing or any other means of hiding a body, it eventually starts to stink.

And so it has.

The greatest players of our era, Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire, Sammy "Three straight 60-plus home run seasons" Sosa, Roger Clemens, arguably perhaps the greatest pitcher of all time, 500 home run-hitter Rafael Palmeiro, and now today's greatest player (No, Katie, I never used performance-enhancing substances), Alex Rodriguez, has brought the house of cards also known as Major League Baseball to its knees, going down to perhaps the final countdown.

Baseball needs a Savior, enter?