Gang;

This is my column for the Dec. 3 issue of the Pilot
News in Plymouth, Indiana. Feedback is welcome.


I have always loved baseball. Well, love may not be a
strong enough emotion to describe how I feel. As a
kid, I was pretty normal. I collected comic books,
interesting looking rocks and played a lot of cowboy
and Indian in my back yard.
I played ball a little with my older brothers and
sister and neighbors. But didn’t really like it since
I was so much smaller than they were. When I played my
first year of Little League ball, we had a game in
Norway, Iowa, the arch-rivals of my hometown. Norway
was quite the baseball capitol of rural Iowa,
producing big league players Mike Boddicker and Bruce
Kimm.
Anyway, before our game I ventured to an eating
establishment with some other players. I wanted some
chewing gum. I bought a pack of baseball cards from
Topps, which of course included a stick of gum. In
that first pack of cards from the 1972 season, I
received cards of both Johnny Bench and Roberto
Clemente. I was instantly hooked.
I believe from that day forward, I have been into
baseball worship. I agree with a lot of what Susan
Sarandon’s character in the movie “Bull Durham” said
about the church of baseball. I can take a lot of
stress out of my life by sitting in a minor league
baseball stadium and just take in the feel of the
ballpark.
I have a game on my computer called Diamond Mind
Baseball. I find it totally awesome and I can spend
several hours at a time sitting there and playing the
game. Ask my wife.
But every now and then, one of my heroes does
something to shake me to the core. Jason Giambi did
that this week.
In case you have been hiding your head under a rock,
the San Francisco Chronicle published transcripts of
the testimony of Giambi, star first baseman for the
New York Yankees, in last year’s Grand Jury case
against Balco, a firm that reportedly supplied
steroids to professional athletes.
Giambi, along with many other stars connected to the
case, have repeatedly denied using
performance-enhancing drugs. But Giambi evidently
testified to using steroids for three seasons. I
probably should not have been shocked, but I was
crushed. Dismayed. Stunned. Deeply, deeply saddened,
for sure.
Yes, of course I know that professional athletes
should not be worshiped or made out to be heroes.
Many, including Charles Barkley, have emphasized that
they are not role models. Sorry, but that goes with
the territory. Whether you like it or not, young kids
are going to look up to you.
If this was just a case of one fallen hero, it would
not be that big of a deal. Giambi is not the first to
admit use of banned performance-enhancing drugs. Jose
Canseco admitted using them as did the late Ken
Caminiti, who died last month of cocaine overdose.
But the whole baseball world is waiting for the next
shoe to drop. For sure there will be others. It has
tarnished the great game.
I recall several years ago when my oldest son, Jimmie,
was playing Little League baseball. He needed a new
glove and we bought him a real nice one. In fact, I
still have it. It was a Darryl Strawberry model. At
the time, the Straw was all the rage of the baseball
world. He had such talent. It seemed he was destined
for induction at the Baseball Hall of Fame in
Cooperstown, N.Y.
Jimmie was really proud of his glove. We played catch
in the back yard for about an hour. Then we went
inside to watch SportsCenter. Their lead story that
day involved none other than Mr. Strawberry going into
the what was the first of who knows how many stints in
drug rehab for his addiction with cocaine. I could see
that Jimmie, then probably about 10 years old, was
bothered by this turn of events. I had no idea how
much he was bothered by it until the next day.
I was one of the coaches for Jimmie’s Little League
team. I heard the other guys ask Jimmie about his
glove. They wanted to see it. He refused to let them
see he was using a Darryl Strawberry model of glove.
I wonder how many Jason Giambi gloves will begin
collecting dust now in New York city?