Allow me, if you will, to deviate for a bit from our 215-centric fireside chats and scale up to the broad subject of the American sports psyche.

After the jump, Michael Fichman lets you see the windmills of his mind.

First and foremost, congratulations to Jimmy Rollins on his swipe of the National League MVP award. Much of the Phils’ improbable success was due to his insane performace this year. Now, if Shane Victorino can only learn to get his ass on base a little more, Rollins may finally agree to hit in the 2-spot and the Phillies’ 1-5 batters will be as dangerous (or more!) than any similar lineup in the league.

I couldn’t just write the column I had planned for this week without mentioning J Roll’s hardware. But now, on to the good stuff…

Warning, intellectual discussion to follow (no George Will)

Allow me, if you will, to deviate for a bit from our 215-centric fireside chats and scale up to the broad subject of the American sports psyche. So the dear home run king Barry Bonds (who you, readers, indicted as the second most hated ballplayer of all time) was indicted for perjury last week — accused of telling a grand jury he was clean when Federal evidence is suggesting otherwise. Steroid accusations in baseball have been unfolding for years and a number of big names have been or will be pulled under. Conversely, one of football’s star linebackers, Shawne Merriman was suspended for steroid use last year and barely anybody batted an eye. Dude was showing up on Nike commercials roughly six months aferwards. Is he not tainted like, say, baseball’s Rafael Palmeiro? Is the sport not tainted? And if not, why?

Sometimes I feel I’ve got to (beep beep) run away

Much is spoken of baseball’s tradition. Records are sacred in that they were achieved by outliers to the inescapable equilibria of the sport. Pitchers can only throw so hard, batters can realistically only hit so well given the abilities of pitchers and the limitations of the human eye. There is a norm, a stasis perceived as unbending except in extreme circumstances to be celebrated. A link to the past. Football records fall with regularity. The pace and visual impact of the game has changed so substantially through the ages that past stars cannot hope to compare to present ones (regardless of Chuck Bednarik‘s opinions to the contrary). Furthermore, the sport has only enjoyed its present popularity for several decades.

Football and baseball represent vastly different parts of the American psyche. Their historical associations are as divergent as could be. Baseball has declined in popularity, its heyday past. Football is a distinctly television-age phenomenon. Perhaps the public’s expectations conform to the perceptions of the ages these sports inhabit and the descriptors of each epoch. Baseball — the better angels of our nature — innocent, timeless, pastoral. Football — the causes and consequences of our hubris — violent, disposable, technological.

Commissioner Goodell, tear down this wall

It is probably for the better that we can find it in ourselves to get mad about steroids in baseball. The outrage over Bonds and McGwire seems borne out of a sense that the records and history of baseball are sacred cultural property. These figures are obviously worth something, especially relative to the “sanctity” of football. It’s heartening to know that we still feel a connection to our more innocent past, even if this image is highly idealized.

However, it’s uncomfortable to know that the blind eye turned to football’s destructiveness is apparently the status quo. We are duplicitous in our comfort with the sport’s apparently uneven morality. The league’s attempts at media hegemony don’t interfere with our thirst for the product — a product which apparently is sliding more towards the entertainment sector of the media age. I get the feeling that we as a culture don’t own football so much as it owns us.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, November 21st, 2007 at 11:59 am.