|
http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=pearlman/060927&lpos=spotlight&lid=tab2pos2
]By Jeff Pearlman
Special to Page 2
Over the course of the next couple of weeks, baseball fans are sure to be lobotomized by the never-ending, dull-as-cardboard human interest stories that accompany the postseason. It's how we, the media, pass the time between waking up each morning and waddling down to the hospitality room for soggy ham-and-Swiss sandwiches and that 18th refill of flat Vanilla Coke.
"Here's an idea," a writer will tell his editor. "Let's profile Sean Casey. It's the heartwarming story of a lovable loser who goes from last-place Pittsburgh to first-place Detroit."
I love it!
"I've got one. Just two years ago Nomar was miserable in Boston. Now he's a fun-loving Dodger with Mia Hamm at his beck and call."
Great concept!
"Cardinals shortstop David Eckstein is smaller than my thumb. Let's do a tale of the tape between Eck, Gary Coleman, Wee Man and a pack of cigarettes."
Brilliant!
Of the myriad ideas, however, the one readers will encounter most involves the New York Mets -- whose GM, Omar Minaya, and manager, Willie Randolph, form a too-good-to-be-true pairing. Minaya and Randolph, you see, are 14-karat gold to an obliviously hypocritical press corps: Two people overcoming racial strife to reach their sport's pinnacle.
In writing "hypocritical," I do not choose that word lightly. During my years covering the majors for Sports Illustrated, Minaya and Randolph were two intelligent, dependable, forward-thinking baseball lifers who simply could not escape their painted-on reputations. Minaya was known throughout much of the game as a sound judge of talent lacking many of the necessities (see: Campanis, Al) required to guide a franchise. Randolph, meanwhile, spent 11 years as one of Joe Torre's coaches with the Yankees -- a quiet but not especially bright man who filled the role of required token.
That these disgusting labels originated from within Major League Baseball is hardly surprising. This is, after all, a game composed of men who -- with rare exception -- are to liberal thinking what Pat Robertson is to common sense. All too often, baseball owners and executives take one look at a person and have their minds made up: Too black. Too Hispanic. Too effeminate. Too … whatever.
Most troubling, though, is the role we, the media, play in the stereotyping. Throughout his tenure as an assistant GM with the Mets, Minaya would often mingle with writers during batting practice. A bunch of us would be standing in a circle, laughing at Minaya's jokes, nodding at his comments, jotting in our notepads. As soon as Minaya would leave, however, the smiles faded. In ensuing conversations of his fate, there would often be one or two or three writers making the case that Minaya simply wasn't that smart; that he was a nice guy who would be better served scouting Latin America, or perhaps heading a department.
I am not without guilt here: Though I did not know Omar well enough to make such judgments, I would thoughtlessly pass along the opinions. If someone asked, "What's that Minaya like?" I'd say something along the lines of, "Seems like a nice guy, but some believe he won't cut it as a GM." It was weak-minded BS on my part -- the damaging of a reputation for the sake of braggart, in-the-know conversation. (No better way to be the life of a party than entertaining all with insider tales from the diamond.) A reporter's job is to investigate and dig and learn things for himself. Not rely on the inane opinions of others.
Sadly, Randolph suffered a similar fate. As he failed one job interview after another, Randolph's rep among many writers turned to mud. Was he the victim of discrimination when it came to landing a gig? Of racial bias? Undoubtedly. (Figure out Baltimore's hiring Lee Mazzilli over Randolph and get back to me.) But according to the off-the-cuff banter of many a scribe, Randolph lacked sufficient smarts. He was Torre's caddy, and damn good at it. Need a cup of coffee? Willie's your guy. Need a manager? Call Mike Hargrove.
Of course, you won't read any of this in the coming days. You'll hear about owners who passed on Minaya and GMs who passed on Randolph; you'll see columnists damning the ignorance of the game and warm, fluffy pieces on how the Mets run baseball's most diverse ship.
Before any of my peers start to type, however, I suggest they ask themselves the following questions:
What did I do to make the situation better?
Or worse? |
It's nice to see a writer make comments about himself and his peers without coming off as a Holier-Than-Thou assbag.
|
