I attended the Baltimore Orioles-Chicago White Sox game on July 31st, 2005, and it was a memorable game for many reasons.  First, my friends and I got to heckle Carl Everett by yelling “Dinosaurs are real… Dinosaurs are real,” which I wanted to do for many years.  Second, I won the tickets because my CVS store – I was the manager - produced the largest increase in sales from July to August, and it was the first day I had off in almost three months.  Third, it was the last game Rafael Palmeiro played in before he was suspended by Major League Baseball for testing positive for steroids.  Fittingly, he hit his last home run in his last game before he was exposed as a cheater.

I found it rather intriguing that, in spite of Palmeiro proven steroid use, the public’s disapproval of him never reached the heights of the national disdain for Barry Bonds’ alleged steroid use.   I was confused by this development; both men were prolific home run hitters who were alleged steroids users.  Even though Barry Bonds was disliked by the media and the public at large, Palmeiro got caught.  He looked us all in the eyes and exclaimed, “I have never used steroid, period.”  Since baseball is the professional sport I follow the least, I investigated further into the reasons behind the fervent disapproval of Barry’s accomplishments.

At first, Bonds’ massive public disapproval seemed to be the root cause.  He did himself no favors over the years; he fought teammates, berated reporters and intimidated trainers.  His abrasive nature carried over into his personal life; his misdeeds concerning fidelity and professionalism are well documented.  The most compelling aspect of Bonds’ personality is the calculation and premeditation of his rudeness towards teammates, reporters and fans.  He seemingly passes up no opportunity to belittle people who do not have the strength or influence that he exerts.  His actions contrast seemingly consequentialist ethics; he regularly takes actions that create the greatest amount of pain and the least amount of happiness for those in his life, and the only beneficiary of Barry Bonds’ actions is Barry Bonds. In short, he has nobody to blame for his public disapproval than himself.

This explanation did not seem sufficient, because Sammy Sosa was disliked by fans, teammates and reporters as well, and his performance at the Congressional hearing did him no favors, but his accomplishments were not skewered as heavily as Bonds.  And since neither Sosa nor Bonds are Anglo-Saxon in descent and Sosa’s ill repute ranks about equal with Mark McGwire’s humiliation and significantly lower than Bonds, I discredited race as a potential reason for this divide. (Although some studies seem to counter this conclusion)

It suddenly hit me while talking about the importance of baseball’s records when one of my friends referred to the all-time home run record as “the most hallowed in all sports.”  Intriguingly, public discourse and indignation over steroids increased dramatically as Barry Bonds approached Babe Ruth’s mark of 714 home runs.  Despite the rumors, nobody exhibited righteous indignation when Sammy Sosa surpassed Harmon Killebrew, investigated bank records and associates when Mike McGwire overtook Mike Schmidt or demanded intervention from the almighty when Raphael Palmeiro topped Jimmy Foxx.  As Barry inched closer to Babe Ruth’s mark, however, steroids suddenly evolved from baseball’s dirty little secret to a full-fledged quandary.  Congress became involved, reporting dramatically increased and persecution of steroid peddlers intensified.  And this phenomenon seems limited to baseball; when Shawne Merriman tested positive for steroids, he was still voted as the NFL’s Defensive Player of the Year and public condemnation appeared muted at best.

I came to the conclusion that the Home Run Record, and any other record Babe Ruth holds or once held, is viewed as sacrosanct and hallowed, and that the public’s indignation towards steroids can be directly correlated with their use in the pursuit of that record.  When Babe Ruth’s name is involved in a prominent record, we seemingly discredit any man who approaches them.  Surpassing Babe Ruth requires more than statistical prowess; achieving Ruthian immortality requires public approval of the methodology of the pursuit and adoration of the pursuant’s personality.  When Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris both chased Babe Ruth’s single season home run record in 1961, Mantle’s hunt for 61 was savored and applauded, while Maris’ accomplishments were deplored and despised.  Many sportswriters and fans noted that Maris hit ahead of Mantle in the Yankees lineup and required 8 extra games to hit his 61st homer, giving him an advantage that Mantle – and Ruth – did not enjoy.  His public personality was sullen and introverted; resultantly, the media despised him and the fans loathed him.  Americana’s discarding of Maris’ accomplishment went beyond the asterisk in Major League Baseball’s record book; the public mandated that Ruth’s accomplishments remain the standard for home run prowess, and construed Maris’ achievement suspect and personality flawed.

When Hank Aaron broke Babe Ruth’s record, public resistance to his pursuit was less encompassing, but more virulent.  Racial threats towards Aaron’s person and public skewering of his accomplishment allowed the vocal minority to frame the debate about his achievement.  Hank Aaron recounts this phenomenon in his book, I Had a Hammer:

“The same points were brought up over and over and over--that I had batted so many more times than Ruth, that I played with a livelier ball, that Ruth had been a pitcher for part of his career, that pitchers were better in Ruth's time, that travel was tougher in Ruth's time, that Ruth had a higher batting average than me. I heard them all, and I respected them all; and I thought that none of them made a damn bit of difference because Babe Ruth was Babe Ruth and I was just a man trying to do my job.”

The perfect example of the resistance baseball purists impose upon any person attempting to break any of Babe Ruth’s records is a book called The Year Babe Ruth Hit 104 Home Runs: Recrowning Baseball’s Greatest Slugger.  Author Bill Jenkins painstakingly details each of Ruth’s 714 home runs, as well as several hits that were ruled foul but would have been ruled fair after rules changed in 1931, and determined that Ruth would have hit 104 home runs in 1921.  He also counteracts every assertion that Hank Aaron’s supporters make, that Babe Ruth never played against African-American athletes and the reasons for his physical superiority are unknown.  Incidentally, if you add the additional home runs from that season alone to his total, Ruth’s career haul becomes 759, four more than Hank Aaron.  The intent is clear from the title of the book: first, everyone who has surpassed Babe Ruth in the record books received clear and distinct advantages, through diluted competition and offensive-minded rules changes, and Ruth would have vastly surpassed their career marks had he competed in the same environment; second, that other sluggers accomplishments unjustly dethrone the greatest slugger of all time; third, that Babe Ruth was baseball’s ultimate showman and hero.  In short, modern baseball players may surpass Babe Ruth in numbers, but the Bambino remains the ultimate standard bearer for hitting proficiency.

The pursuit of the single season home run record by Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa in 1998 serves as the most interesting case of this phenomenon.  McGwire and Sosa both appeared to achieve their mark properly; they both surpassed Ruth’s mark of 60 homers in fewer games and obliterated Maris’ total.  They also appeared humble and likeable, giving them the requisite personality needed for public approval.  The Clinton-Lewinsky scandal gave American another reason to accept them.  We needed something positive to happen, and they delivered.  Even politicians got in on the fun, especially when Ted Kennedy accidentally referred to them as “Mike McGwire and Sammy Sooser.”  This only contributed to their downfall.  McGwire essentially admitted steroid use with his infamous “I’m not here to talk about the past” comment, discrediting the methodology of his pursuit.  Sosa’s performance that day revealed that his inherent phoniness; his “inability to understand English” proved his personality inadequate to be mentioned along with The Babe, regardless of accusations of steroid use.

The irony is that contemporary America would have despised Babe Ruth.  If a modern athlete feuded with managers and teammates the way Babe Ruth did, he would be treated similarly to Terrell Owens.  Alex Rodriguez himself on Page Six when he cheated; imagine if he lived in a sham marriage, as Babe Ruth’s nuptials to Claire Hodgson were alleged.  Jay Mariotti would be screaming bloody murder if it was reported that Derek Jeter went through 10-15 women in one night at a bordello, as Babe Ruth was rumored to do.  What if a player showed up drunk to spring training and knocked himself out by running into a palm tree in the outfield like Ruth did?  Babe Ruth once charged into the stands to fight a heckler, and he was lionized.  His charging after the heckler would have been replayed on Fox, CNN and ESPN hundreds of times, discussed by Tony Kornheiser and Charles Barkley, panned by Bill O’Reilley and blogged about by millions of sports fans.  In fact, Babe Ruth’s antics led to his infamous trade from the Boston Red Sox.  Harry Frazee’s reasoning is documented in The Complete History of the Home Run, by Mark Ribowsky:

“The sale of Babe Ruth will ultimately strengthen the team.  It would be impossible to start next season with Ruth and have a smooth-working machine.  Ruth had become simple impossible, and the Boston club could no longer put up with his eccentricities.  I think the Yankees are taking a gamble.  While Ruth is undoubtedly the greatest hitter the game has ever seen, he is likewise one of the most selfish and inconsiderate men ever to put on a baseball uniform."

Forget for one moment that his statement failed to placate Boston fans, his true intention was to gather money to fund No, No, Nanette, or that time proved his assertion that the Yankees were the risk takers completely daft.  Does this statement sound much different than the reasons given for trading Ron Artest or Randy Moss?  In fact, most of Babe Ruth’s accomplishments would be ridiculed today.  For example, in 1927, Babe Ruth hit more home runs than any other team in the American League.  Imagine if a modern player accomplished that feat.  Envision Albert Pujols hitting more home runs than the entire Colorado Rockies roster.  Then picture Skip Bayless’ face turning Oklahoma Sooner red as he screamed about the type of steroids Pujols is on.  We would serve as judge, jury and executioner without a shred of proof if this happened now-a-days.

Despite all of this, Babe Ruth evolved from a supremely talented baseball player with a flawed personality to an idea, an icon of the superior baseball player of yesteryear and the fore bearer of the sacrosanct Home Run Record.  I do not believe that Barry Bonds is without guilt; visual evidence clearly suggests steroid use, even if drug test results have not.  Nor do I justify Bonds’ actions by suggesting that the icon of Babe Ruth is insurmountable.  I simply propose that our outrage concerning steroids is more intertwined with The Idea of The Babe than any moral or ethical objection to steroid use and its consequences.  Perhaps we need to let go of this idea, because the idea of sports and competition is to be the best you can be, and have the opportunity to become the best that has ever played the game.  If it is impossible to surpass Ruth without being ridiculed and scorned, then why encourage kids to play?