Marc Fisher of the Washington Post was right when he wrote that the big guys in America can walk all over us with a smile because they know that we — the little people — will take it. He was referring to the Major League Baseball All-Star game that was called quits because none of the team owners wanted to risk their pitchers’ arms with extra innings.
I love baseball. I come from a baseball family. My father named my older brother after Roberto Clemente. I played softball for most of my life and the heroes I immortalized were Reggie Jackson, Roger Maris and Joe DiMaggio. I wore DiMaggio’s number when I played ball on my high school team. I read books about baseball. I write stories about baseball. Even when the Pittsburgh Pirates lost any glory the team ever had, I watched baseball. Through the 1994 strike, I still tried to believe in baseball. But by the time I turned 14 my faith finally fizzled out.
What happened? Baseball is the epitome of the American dream. Major League Baseball was the first sport to integrate with Jackie Robinson becoming an American symbol. The country winced when the Brooklyn Dodgers moved to Los Angeles. Babe Ruth’s legend is practically an American institution.
I lost my faith when the magic of the game died and profit margin was the only thing left in its dust. When the pocketbook became more important than the game’s spirit, my young idealism took a huge dent. I didn’t understand then about team owners and corporate sponsorship and salary caps. I understand now. I’ve barely watched a game since.
The All-Star game decision did not surprise me. But something inside me still hurts that a once beautiful thing could be reduced to the equivalent of some parking lot in Pittsburgh where Forbes Field once stood. Part of me wonders: what would the Babe think? or Sandy Koufax? or Lloyd Waner?
The baseball players of today do represent this country well since profit is everything. It’s not about the smell of ballpark grass or the feel of hitting the ball with the sweet spot of your bat. We, the fans, helped deteriorate this game by letting the big guys begin to run things. But without us, Major League Baseball is nothing. Maybe someday the big guys upstairs in the skybox will finally get that, but only if we show them that we won’t let them walk all over us.
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Angela Williams
Editor in Chief
