Future milestones not likely to evoke awe, By: Ken Rosenthal
May 7, 2006
PHILADELPHIA - Say Alex Rodriguez hits 800 home runs. What will the reaction be?
The guess here is that Rodriguez won't receive the same adulation that Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa did during their home-run race in 1998.
The guess here is that offensive records no longer will inspire unabashed reverence, even if a player as untainted as Rodriguez sets the milestone.
This is the legacy of the Steroid Era, and the indifference toward Barry Bonds' pursuit of Babe Ruth on the all-time home run list is a sign of things to come.
The euphoria that stemmed from Cal Ripken Jr. breaking Lou Gehrig's consecutive games record in 1995 will never be duplicated.
Fans, media and baseball people have grown understandably more skeptical after being exposed as naive, ignorant and just plain blind to the unseemly events of the past decade.
Perhaps the reaction to Bonds isn't a fair gauge of the future; his reported steroid use and distasteful personality leave him with little support outside of the Bay Area.
But the greater issue is trust.
Major League Baseball has implemented the harshest penalties for steroid use in professional sports, but only a fool would proclaim that the sport is clean, given MLB's inability to test for human growth hormone and other non-detectable substances.
Investing emotionally in any future baseball accomplishment will require, at some level, a suspension of disbelief. And while MLB, by virtually every measure, is reaching new levels of popularity, the damage to the sport is more significant than the game's powers that be care to admit.
The numbers are that warped.
Ten years ago, the pursuit of Ruth would have been a national show-stopper, sparking intense media coverage, drawing sellout crowds. No. 714 is not the record, and Commissioner Bud Selig is correct — Bonds should not be commemorated for passing Ruth when Hank Aaron's 755 is the all-time mark. But in the game's mythology, 714 is a very big deal, an emotional touchstone. Bonds, at 712, is evoking curiosity but little passion.
The Giants' two games in Milwaukee this week drew crowds of 12,664 and 21,038. The attendance in Philadelphia on Friday night was 37,269, larger than in recent games at Citizens Bank Park, but more than 8,000 short of capacity. The Phillies issued approximately 200 media credentials. The crush for McGwire-Sosa in 1998 was considerably larger.
Oh, the notorious Philly fans got their boos in and produced a few entertaining signs, the best of which was a huge, "Ruth did it on hot dogs and beers" rollout that greeted Bonds when he trotted to left field. Giants manager Felipe Alou was critical of fans who jeered Bonds when he walked to right field to check on the injured Moises Alou, saying, "America isn't like that." But it was a few knuckleheads, that's all.
Fans in Philadelphia treated the Cardinals' J.D. Drew far worse in 1999 when he made his first visit to the city after refusing to sign with the Phillies, who selected him with the No. 2 pick in the '97 draft. Security was tight Friday night, and Citizens Bank Park, like all new ballparks. But frankly, the crowds in L.A. were tougher on Bonds.
It is different, of course, in San Francisco, where Bonds is revered for his accomplishments and for the electricity he brings to the park. Fans in any other city would react the same way if Bonds were their own, and even now, in the middle of a pursuit that is more of a limp than a chase, the excitement that Bonds creates in road parks is palpable. He had a monster batting practice Friday night, and his at-bats generated the usual buzz — despite the fact that he went 0-for-3 with a walk.
Still, fans aren't scrambling to snap up seats in the right-field stands the way they did during Bonds' 73-homer season in 2001. Heck, MLB didn't even decide to mark the balls used in Bonds' at-bats until the Giants arrived in Philadelphia. Some MLB officials thought the marking was unnecessary, even though — at the very least — Bonds is on the verge of passing Ruth for the most home runs by a left-handed hitter.
Everything is devalued now — the player, the era, the home run. And it remains difficult to evaluate where this all goes.
Perhaps the excesses of the era will grow less offensive over time. Perhaps the next wave of stars — players like Rodriguez and Albert Pujols — will be justly celebrated for whatever milestones they achieve. But while asterisks would be inappropriate, the record book should include a qualifier: MLB did not test for performance-enhancing drugs until 2003 and did not penalize players for using them until '04.
Bonds is the biggest name, the slugger trying to make history, but this isn't just about him. It's about the entire sport — a sport that has lost a measure of innocence, not just for the moment, but for good.
