Hitting The Cutoff Man

On Sept. 5, 1998, I sat in the stands at Busch Stadium and watched the Cardinals beat the Reds, 7-0.

In that game, the immortal Donovan Osborne threw a three-hit shutout, but of course that’s not what I remember. The memory that sticks with me is that in the first inning, Mark McGwire ripped a deep shot to left field that cleared the wall for his 60th home run of the season, tying Babe Ruth for second all-time.

I was ecstatic. Here I was, 11 years old, a huge McGwire fan, a witness to history.

That summer, the whole country was wrapped up in the home run chase, as Big Mac and Slammin’ Sammy Sosa made their assault on Roger Maris’ 61. Both would break it, with McGwire setting the new record at 70.

Of course in the years since, we’ve learned a lot about McGwire, Sosa and many other players. We don’t know with 100 percent certainty that Big Mac was using performance-enhancing drugs, but we can make some pretty solid assumptions.

For a while, all the talk of McGwire being a cheater was hurtful, something I felt in my gut. He was something of a hero to me, as athletes often are to children, and when people called his integrity into question, it was like them insulting one of my parents. When you’re a kid, you believe athletes are perfect, larger-than-life figures who can do the impossible, just as you think your parents can fix anything.

As you get older, you realize athletes are people who are incredibly talented but also flawed just like everyone else. You realize your parents, try as they might, can’t make everything better. You realize the world can be a dirty, nasty place and that human nature has some unattractive tendencies.

So although I’ve experienced some feelings of disappointment and even anger toward McGwire, I don’t harbor any resentment. When the Hall of Fame’s 2010 class is announced Wednesday, I hope he will be included even though he almost certainly will not be.

Look, McGwire was a very good baseball player who did something less than admirable but more than understandable. To not cast a vote for him is the height of hypocrisy.

For one thing, we don’t know for sure who else from that era did and did not take performance-enhancers. Without that knowledge, how are you supposed to make a judgment that McGwire should be held out while one of his peers should be welcomed in?

For another thing, players have been enhancing their performance for as long as they have played baseball for money. Pitchers have scuffed balls to make them break more. Hitters have corked their bats to make the ball go further. Players in the 70s popped amphetamines or "greenies" like they were jelly beans to give them energy on the field.

The point is, professional athletes are competitive guys with a lot of money on the line who will do what it takes to get ahead, and they will go as far as they think they can get away with. No matter how much baseball players are lionized, they succumb to the same base aspects of human nature as anyone else.

And plenty of guys in the Hall of Fame did much worse that stick themselves with a needle; they beat their wives or neglected their children or were virulent racists. We don’t seem to hold that against them or let it stop us from admiring their abilities on the field.

So maybe what I saw that September afternoon in St. Louis wasn’t quite “real.” I’ve come to terms with that. It’s time for the Baseball Writers Association of America to do the same and put Big Mac into the Hall.