The Incredibles

            It was fitting this week that the Baseball Writers’ Association of America released its Hall of Fame voting results just one day before the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences announced their Oscar nominations. If baseball looks closely enough, it may find a solution to its most weighty problem on that Oscar ballot.

            In 1994, a vicious labor dispute led to the cancellation of the entire baseball postseason, embarrassing the sport to such an extent that many wondered if fan interest would ever resurface. However, once the games resumed in 1995, America’s pastime stormed back with a vengeance, just as it did after the Chicago White Sox scandal of 1919, when several players “threw” the World Series by taking money from gamblers.

            In the 1920s, baseball was saved in large part by a portly man whose mammoth home runs brought fans to the ballpark in droves. In 1998, baseball was saved in large part by two muscular men whose mammoth home runs electrified the nation. But there was a difference between the way in which Babe Ruth saved baseball in the 1920s, and the way in which Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa saved baseball in the late ‘90s. Babe Ruth, according to writers and historians, was known to enjoy many a good drink; he succeeded despite taking a performance-inhibiting drug. McGwire and Sosa, on the other hand, seem to have succeeded due to performance-enhancing drugs. And with their success, baseball fully entered its Steroid Era.

            Home run records fell by the dozens in those late ‘90s and early 2000s. Barry Bonds hit so many home runs so often that he was walked a record 232 times in the 2004 season. There has never been anything like this, as home runs soared over fences with a frequency you had to see to believe. But then again, you had to see these ballplayers’ muscles to believe them, too. During that 2004 season, Bonds turned 40 years old. Yet, he looked more like the lead character from Pixar’s ’04 film hit The Incredibles than a typical 40-year-old athlete. The bulked-up ballplayers, who were free from any kind of steroid testing, flexed super-sized biceps, pecs and quads that brought to mind Mr. Incredible and his giant, muscular body.

            A lot has gone down since 2004 in Major League Baseball, as we’ve learned that so much of that excitement from the late ‘90s and early ‘00s was created by performance-enhancing drugs. Who took what, and when, and how much is impossible to know for sure, as there was no steroid testing until 2006. There was no agreement on in-season testing for human growth hormone until yesterday. Athletes in search of an edge turned to syringes to enhance their own skills, and they got rich doing so.

            And so, when several of the most celebrated players of the past 15 years became eligible for Hall of Fame candidacy this year, the baseball writers sent a powerful message by electing no one to receive baseball’s highest honor in 2013. Not the guy with seven MVP awards. Not the guy with seven Cy Young awards. Not the guys with 3,000 hits, 500 or more home runs, or 3,000 or more strikeouts. Nobody.

            Some of these eligible players did not take steroids or human growth hormone, but through its massive cover-up baseball did not allow us to know who was cheating and who was playing fair. So, this year, every player suffered the consequences.

            It was an era of irresponsible, unhealthy, and deceitful behavior. But it is also true that during this time, baseball fans devoured the record-breaking offense with much enthusiasm and not much questioning. It is, therefore, rather difficult for us to point fingers at these players without pointing fingers at ourselves as well. They were, after all, giving us what we wanted. We cheered and clapped for the guys who looked like Pixar characters, so the sport created more and more of them.

            So that brings us to the Oscars. Back in 1995, Pixar introduced a revolutionary form of digital animation with the now-classic film Toy Story. Half a decade later, after the success of A Bug’s Life and Toy Story 2, it was clear that this company had changed the way movies were made. Thus, in 2001 the Academy began awarding an Oscar for Best Animated Feature. In the first 11 years of that award, a Pixar film was nominated eight times. This week, the company picked up nomination number nine.

            Baseball can look at this Oscar category and follow suit with its Hall of Fame dilemma: Simply take the players from the Steroid Era and vote them in under “Best Animated Players.” Some of them were on the juice and some weren’t, but baseball gave us no way of knowing. So we’ll treat them all like we do Buzz Lightyear, Wall-E and Mr. Incredible – we’ll give them their own category. And if the dust ever clears and we get full disclosure, we’ll consider nominating them for the regular Hall as well, just as Pixar movies like Up and Toy Story 3 have also been nominated for Best Picture.

            It’s fitting that this year’s Pixar nominee is a film titled Brave. If only Major League Baseball had shown some degree of courage during the Steroid Era, we might be looking at our recent sports history through a different lens. But brave they weren’t. So the baseball writers called them out on that this week. Even Mr. Incredible can’t save the day with this one.

Mr. Unlucky (One Sixty-Two: Day 97)

Writer’s note: One Sixty-Two is a season-long series of blog posts connecting baseball’s major-league players to life’s universal themes. Just as there are 162 games in a season, so there will be 162 posts in this series. Let’s play some ball.

Day Ninety-Seven: Matt Cain, San Francisco Giants

Cain is able. He just can’t catch a break.

Each year, without fail, a handful of starting pitchers are unlucky. These are the guys who put together great seasons, only to see their teammates fail to score runs almost every time they’re on the mound. This season, pitchers such as Roy Oswalt of the Houston Astros, Felix Hernandez of the Seattle Mariners and Johan Santana of the New York Mets have suffered from dismal run support, and their low win totals reflect that.

Out in San Francisco, though, the Giants have a young starting pitcher who can beat anyone’s woeful tale of low run support. His name is Matt Cain, he’s 25 years old, and he throws a fastball that can blow a hole through a wall. In his five full seasons, Cain has developed quite nicely from a thrower into a pitcher. But Cain arrived in San Francisco at the tail end of the Barry Bonds years, and his Giants have not yet built a formidable offensive club in the post-Bonds era. Hence, Cain has received very little hitting support throughout his career. To put it in perspective, his career earned-run average of 3.47 is ninth among active pitchers. And yet, his career won-loss record is 52-59.

That’s right – he gives up three and a half runs per nine innings, and he loses more games than he wins. By comparison, Andy Pettitte owns a 3.87 career earned-run average – .40 points higher than Cain’s. And yet, in his first five seasons in the majors, Pettitte had a won-loss record of 81-46. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Pettitte was pitching for the Yankees during those years. Indeed, Pettitte has never had a losing record in his career, even going 14-11 with a 4.70 ERA in 1999. By comparison, Matt Cain went 7-16 with a 3.65 ERA in 2007 and 8-14 with a 3.76 ERA in ’08.

Despite a slightly improved offense this year, Cain is still not getting the run support he surely craves. His ERA is at 3.14, but his record stands at just 8-8. The Giants as a whole have such strong pitching this year that they’re in second place, just behind the Padres, in the National League West. As Saturday’s trade deadline nears, Matt Cain is surely hoping to see his team pick up a potent bat from another team. Should they do so, and should rookie catcher Buster Posey continue hitting the cover off the ball, the Giants might be able to give Matt Cain the one thing he undoubtedly craves more than his own victory total – a trip to the playoffs.

In the October spotlight, Cain would have the chance to introduce himself to the scores of fans who don’t know him from Adam. His own Giants fans and teammates know him quite well, though. And they’d like nothing more than to ride that golden right arm into the promised land.

Baseball, Meet Peanut Butter

I keep looking for reasons to feel proud of baseball. I peak at the headlines, in search of stories that will make this beautiful game look as gorgeous to me now as it was when I was 8 or 9. But I keep falling short.

I see the same names in the headlines each day, and for the same reasons: Alex Rodriguez, Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Miguel Tejada, Mark McGwire, Jason Giambi. Some days, I wonder why anyone would choose to become a fan of a sport in which there has been so much cheating.

I look a little further, and I see a general manager resigning amidst allegations of kickbacks from signing bonuses. I glimpse deeper, and I see stories of men signed to contracts in the millions, yet club employees fired in order to pinch pennies. Every day, I see a new story about a man who, in the midst of a global recession, continues to turn down an offer to earn $45 million over the next two years, just to play left field and hit baseballs.

What is the point? Why am I still reading about this sport? What would be the reason to follow a game that has lost its way so wildly?

I can’t say I have a convincing answer to these questions. I don’t think I can persuade anyone why this sport is worth their time more than, say, watching a movie or tooling around on Facebook or iTunes.

But, then again, I’ve been thinking about peanut butter lately.

It’s been a couple of months now that we’ve been reading about the salmonella outbreak traced to a peanut company in Georgia. We’ve seen hundreds of peanut-butter products recalled, and read of hundreds stricken and several believed to have been killed by the salmonella, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Federal investigators are now claiming that the Peanut Corporation of America plant in Blakely, Georgia, knowingly shipped contaminated peanut butter, and had mold growing on its ceiling and walls. The company has filed for bankruptcy protection.

Unethical actions have led to sickness, death, fear and unemployment. Another national shame has enveloped our country.

And yet, I do love my peanut butter.

I have, of course, made sure to avoid all recalled peanut-butter products. But as for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, they remain a staple of my lunchtime diet. I expect they always will.

I am separating the product itself from those responsible for manufacturing and selling some of the said product.

Peanut butter, like baseball, is rather lovely in its essence. It’s got a simple, homespun elegance that has attracted devotees for decades. We know the sticky-sweet taste of a PBJ, so much that here in New York we’re even willing to spend several dollars for a sandwich at the high-end Peanut Butter & Co. restaurant in Greenwich Village.

And we know the simple elegance of baseball as well. We know the dash from first to third on a hit-and-run. The pickoff at first base. The shoestring catch. The squeeze bunt. The ground-rule double. The pitcher who escapes a bases-loaded, nobody-out jam.

It is a fabulous product, this game. It will be so forever. The scandals will come and go, as will the unsavory characters. Many of them will do their best to ruin the game itself.

But we will demand better. Just as the president must confront this peanut butter scandal with improvements in federal oversight of America’s food, so will the government and sports world at large demand that Major League Baseball right its ship.

These demands have already begun, and they will continue. Because, no matter what the product, it is always the consumers who hold the ultimate power. You can try to fool us, and sometimes you will. But in the end, our voices will be heard.

So go ahead, buy me some peanut butter (and Cracker Jacks). Because you do care if I ever come back.