Before I get down to picking out some hilariously atrocious sentences, I want to address Peter's overall point here. Peter thinks the steroid "revelations" -- which actually "revealed" nothing new other than some particulars -- are as serious a problem for the game as the strike of 94-95, a strike that stopped baseball from being played completely, including one entire postseason. We, the fans, were rather pissed in 1994 because we ARE fans of baseball, and there was no baseball to watch. We could not experience all those emotional highs and lows of seeing if the (finally!) resurgent Tribe could stay in the wild card lead or patch up their bullpen enough to catch the White Sox, to pick an example at random (cough). The steroid abuse, on the other hand, primarily hurt the other players, not the fans -- it put the non-cheaters in the unfair position of either being at a competitive disadvantage or cheating themselves. It didn't disadvantage some teams at the expense of others. The main draw of sports is harmless competition, hoping "our" team beats the other team.
True, because taking steroids is unfair, it is wrong, and because it is wrong, doing so taints' the abuser's accomplishments. And yes, records are a big deal, especially in baseball. But even in baseball, they are essentially a sideshow. Right now, what every normal baseball fan cares about most is, who are we going to field next season? Do we have a shot at first place? Are our prospects going to pan out? NOT, will Prince Fielder's 60 home runs be "tainted"?
And to the extent these stats are important to fans, the solution is simple -- a testing program rigorous enough such that we can just presume from here on out that players aren't cheating, because it's no longer worth it for them. And it appears that is happening. The rest is just a matter for the history buffs who have to sort out all the records and boring Hall of Fame arguments (if you're getting particularly sick of this tedious topic lately, raise your hand!!). I'll go back to biting my nails over whether Fausto can get his sinker over the corner of the plate, whether Sizemore is going to catch up with that ball's trajectory in the outfield gap, and other such matters.
So why is Gammons so incredibly and wildly down on baseball lately, alternately demanding more info and calling informants "sewer rats"? I'm going to play armchair psychologist here: I think it's guilt. This is the kind of thing that journalists are supposed to expose, and even though there were sneaking suspicions, nobody bothered. And since Peter Gammons is, for some unknown reason, one of the premier journalists covering the game, he feels particularly bad about this. He's now channeling this emotion in various ways, sometimes in the form of anger directed at the people who exposed the players -- and in the process, exposed him -- and sometimes in the form of gloomy sadness over the State of the Game. He says this is what "fans of the game" are feeling, but he is really, diagnoses this armchair psychologist, "projecting."
Okay, onto the gibberish...
On a Caribbean beach, it is wonderful not to read or listen to lawyer-speak and lawyer-leak.
I have no clue what he's talking about, and I'm a lawyer. I don't think there's anything left to say about this sentence.
There are drawbacks, such as no Morning Joe or MLBTradeRumors.com on my BlackBerry, but until we know why there is any reason that Brian McNamee would possibly lie or why Roger Clemens would risk it all by testifying under oath and risk jail time, we need to do a little power-yoga breathing and relax.
First of all, shame on you, Gammons, for causing me to picture you in a bathing suit. Second, you are a very bad writer. "Why there is any reason" is redundant and confusing. "Why" already means "what reason." Why, in the name of George Will, would you not just write "why Brian McNamee would possibly lie or why Roger Clemens would risk it all"? It would be nicely parallel and it would fucking make sense! There is absolutely no possible linguistic or stylistic purpose for adding that extra phrase.
Then [in 1994-95], we had then-Marlins owner Wayne Huizenga destroying his franchise as he told fans that beer league veterans liked the game more than real players.
What does he mean when he says "we had" this? This is a lot like his habit of starting sentences with "it's all about..." Just vague and lazy.
Also, uh, what is he talking about? What is a beer league veteran? Who are the "real" players? What does this have to do with Huizenga trading off his expensive stars for prospects? And what does that have to do with steroids? As usual, a pervasive feeling of confusion is creeping over me as I read a Peter Gammons column.
Now, we have steroids as the story line for the 2008 season and the only subject of questions Brian Roberts and Eric Gagne will face.
This sentence is a great illustration of the substantive point I made above. Gammons is wrong. When/if Brian Roberts is traded to the Cubs, he will most certainly "face questions" about his feelings on his former and future organizations. He will also face questions on his possible steroids history, but these will be most relevant to Cubs fans in determining what his future performance will be now that he definitely won't be doing it (due to presumably more rigorous testing).
Bud Selig wishes he had better understood what was going on, and when he tried to purge himself with the Mitchell report, what he got from his esteemed friend was a document that not only would have been graded as incomplete, but left Selig bleeding.
This is confusing. What does he mean that the report "would have been graded incomplete"? Why the theoretical "would have"? Would have, if what? Who's grading it? Why was it incomplete?
There's also a serious sentence structure problem here -- at first it seems like Gammons is saying that the report "would have left Selig bleeding," but that makes even less sense than the first part of the sentence. After a couple re-readings, I figured out that "the report not only [blank], but also left Selig bleeding." But since the two parts are not in the same tense, the sentence is misleading.
But even after I sorted through the stuctural problems, I was still confused. Why is Selig left bleeding? Presumably this is a metaphor, but for what? The Report "wounded" Selig personally somehow? I don't recall reading that the Report blamed Selig in particular. Did it? Is this what Gammons is referring to? He doesn't tell us.
There are vast conspiracy theories -- the most ridiculous is that George Bush knew what was going on in Texas, when most people who knew Bush and Tom Schieffer when they owned the Rangers believe they were such rebels they would have released every player they thought was breaking the law. But the fact remains that there is no concrete proof of the underground allegations.
Maybe I'm not reading enough crazy baseball blogs, but I have only seen this George Bush "conspiracy theory" twice, and both times were in Peter Gammons' blog. If he thinks it (whatever the theory is, which is unclear) is so ridiculous, why does he keep repeating it? And once he says it's "ridiculous," why say "but the fact remains there is no concrete proof"? You just said it's ridiculous -- it's ridiculous, "but" it's not true? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT??
Okay, deep breath (this post is particularly aggravating, even for Gammons). But one more thing -- how does releasing any steroid-using player make Bush and Schieffer "rebels"? I had to re-read the sentence because I thought I missed something "rebellious." But I think it's just another bizarre word choice by Gammons.
Human rights are important, but right now the restoration of faith in a badly tainted business is more important.
I have no idea why Gammons is even mentioning "human rights." I also have no idea why restoring faith in the game and "human rights" are mutually exclusive. In any case, the notion of "human rights" has several different definitions under various philosophical theories, but all such definitions would make it, without question, FAR more important than fixing steroids in baseball. And it's not close. Again, Gammons, what the fuck are you even talking about.
It's not solely Selig's responsibility; it's the responsibility of everyone making money in the business -- players, agents, owners, media outlets -- to take the public eye away from the tawdry, shabby lawyer talk and remind the public why some of us love to watch Jeter and Josh Beckett, Johan Santana and Pujols, Hanley Ramirez and Martin play.
Obviously, this is a typically clumsy, run-on sentence, but I wanted to draw particular attention to the phrase, "tawdry, shabby lawyer talk." Huh? What "lawyer talk" is he referring to? The Mitchell report? Unclear. Whatever the subject is, I am a lawyer, and say what you want about legalese, but it is quite the opposite of "tawdry" and "shabby." It is cold and technical, sometimes absurdly so.
Bottom line (we have a refrain here): Gammons, please, please, for the love of God, tell me, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?
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