Blame It on the Yankees

Though I am a National League fan, even I have to recognize that the American League is more talented overall. 12 years of All Star Game wins, though impressive, is not as meaningful as the fact that the AL consistently outperforms the NL in interleague play.

I blame it on the Yankees. Beginning in the 1990s, the George Steinbrenner-owned team really began to ramp up its changing of the face of baseball. Always big spenders, the increased revenue from their cable network really upped the amount they had to spend. So they did. If there was a free agent they wanted, they were never outbid. If they could make a trade for a player, they could then afford to give him a new contract.

Other people have pointed this out. Overlooked, however, was the improvement in the Yankee farm system. Many of the key players in their World Series run came from that system. And when they wanted a player on another team, they had the prospects to get him in a trade.

The formula worked. The Yankees made the playoffs every year fro 1995 until 2008 except for 1997. They won six AL pennants and four World Series.

When John Henry became owner of the Boston Red Sox, he called the Yankees "the evil empire," but quickly went over to the dark side himself. Boston now has two WS titles this decade and they did by pretty much the same formula used by the Yankees.

In my opinion, these two teams have forced the rest of the teams in the AL to work harder and spend more money. Obviously Tampa Bay spent only a fraction of what the Yankees did to win the pennant last year, so it's not only money. But when the big dogs are as good as they are, you must do something to compete. Therefore, I think that AL teams in general have been more aggressive in pursuing players than the NL teams. Eventually, the entire league has better talent.

Why don't the teams in the big NL markets do what the Yankees have done? Well, the Mets have tried, but I think their organization--from the owner on down--is basically incompetent. The Cubs have been owned by a media corporation who looked at the team as a money-maker, not something to invest in (and they are still the Cubs). The Dodgers changed ownership twice and has just recently reached a level of stability, which is paying off in having the best record in the NL.

I hope the playing field eventually levels, but for now, the AL has better talent and we have the Yankees to blame for that.

Baseball Should Not Be This Sad

My friend Jeff Morris jokingly asked me why I didn't post about Manny Ramirez and the steroids (or more specifically the female fertility drug used after steroids). Since I am a fan of the Dodgers who beat his snake bitten Cubs in the playoffs last year, he thought it only fair.

I would never shrink from such a challenge, but the truth is, I just don't know how I feel about specific instances of steroids in baseball any more. I feel as if the last 15 years of the most wonderful sport on earth has been robbed of its beauty. I remember when the ball started flying out of the park in record numbers in the 90s (Brady Anderson, of all people, hit 50 in 1996). We thought that the baseballs were juiced. Turns out it was the players.

I enjoyed the Mark McGuire record setting season. Unlike many, however, I always felt this nagging thought in the back of my head that it was less than right (we found out in the middle of the chase he used Andro--since banned).

Baseball has always been about numbers. In 1969, my friend Steven Johnson and I spent the entire summer playing darts on the baseball game on the back side of the dart board. We kept box scores and tallied batting averages and ERAs. I know a lot of the big numbers: Babe Ruth, 60 and 714. Hank Aaron 755. Roger Maris 61. Rogers Hornsby .422. Don Drysdale 58 scoreless innings. And, no, I didn't look any of those up.

The numbers put up in the steroids era takes the magic out of the numbers. And that hurts. On a competition level maybe it doesn't matter. Sure, Barry Bonds undoubtedly used steroids to get to 73 HR. But some of the pitchers who got him out were also on steroids. But the numbers aren't as meaningful anymore.

I think what makes baseball the greatest sport, at least to my generation and older, was the magical connection with kids. When I grew up, even the dorkiest of us dreamed of being a big league baseball player; no one dreamed of being a pro basketball or football player. We followed the players and kept track of their stats.

It was magic. Even though the times have changed and kids today probably don't have the same connection, it is still sad to see the joy sucked out of the numbers.

I still love baseball. Living in St. Louis now, I have been privileged to watch a sure future Hall-of-Fame player (Albert Pujols) entire career. I plan to get out to the stadium when the Dodgers come to town in July and watch often of TV. (If Pujols is ever proven to be a steroids user, I will be crushed.)

But there is an element in which it will never be the same. And that's too bad. I could blame a lot of people--players, owners, the commissioner, the people who invent this stuff--but it really doesn't matter. It's just a little sad and that's really all that can be said about it.