This was a sad weekend for the sport of baseball.
Revelations that Alex Rodriguez, a three-time MVP winner and respectable family man, may have abused steroids have shaken everything that I hold sacred. You go through life thinking that people are good, and when push comes to shove, generally do the right thing. But if professional baseball players can’t be depended on to be positive role models for children and can’t resist the temptation to just say “no,” I don’t know where we as a society can turn.
Now, I’m not naïve. I understand that A-Rod is an adult and that baseball players can sometimes run in fast circles. If he and the fellows want to go out and have a couple of cold ones to wind down after a hard night’s work on the diamond, I empathize. However, when a man’s substance abuse issues begin to interfere with his work, measures must be taken, especially when that man’s work is witnessed and admired by millions of American children.
Baseball was one of this great nation’s last sanctuaries from the horrors of the War on Drugs; every day, newspapers, magazines and weblogs deliver stories and images of actors, musicians and politicians who are seemingly unable to resist the temptation to destroy their lives through vice. Until now, I felt comfortable leaving my children in front of the ballgame at night without concern that their supple young minds would be corrupted by the harsh realities that have torn apart families and ruined communities.
I guess I grew up a little bit this weekend. Thank you, Alex Rodriguez, for helping me understand that nothing is sacred and we truly are a nation corrupted.
