Regarding the bizarre case of Manny Ramirez, whose baseball career came to an abrupt end after testing positive for steroids an unfathomable third time, it is perfectly natural and reasonable if you refuse to condone the man's actions. But, condemn the man in general? That's where the gray matter lies.
Ramirez was perhaps the greatest right-handed slugger of the last 30 years. His power stroke was effortless as it was deadly and the Boston Red Sox rode his MVP's bat to win the 2004 World Series, which just so happened to be the team's first championship in 86 years. How serendipitous, then, that the best power hitter in a generation would carry a star-crossed franchise to it's first title in three generations. After all, it could only be a larger-than-life player who could finally deliver a larger-than-life championship.
That said, rather than going down in baseball history as a conquering hero, Ramirez' hall-of-fame caliber career lies in tatters, as the 38-year old decided to retire from baseball only one week into his first (and presumably only) season with the Tampa Bay Rays, rather than face a 100 game suspension for steroid use, which would have effectively made him inactive for about 2/3 of his swansong anyway.
Opting to retire was an admirable decision for Ramirez to make because it put a somewhat graceful tinge on an episode that was nothing short of disgraceful. Manny, being Manny (which is how punsters have often described his outlandish personality), could have done any other thing than retire. He could have smugly vowed to fight the
allegations, a la Barry Bonds and others before him, denying any guilt and accountability. He could have sheepishly accepted the punishment he was entitled to, biding his time before making a big, post-All Star break reemergence, rested and ready to lead the Rays on a pennant-push cavalry charge, like he did with Boston and Los Angeles. In diabolical fashion, Ramirez could have brought others down with him, implicating everyone from the trainers to the bat boys as confederates in the illicit world of club house drug use. Had Ramirez taken any one of those courses of action, it would not have been a surprise.
But in the end, the fallen star had no choice but to exit humbly, if not meekly. Ramirez even called Tampa Bay manager Joe Maddon, mano a mano, to apologize for what he did and to wish him and the team luck. Maddon, one of the most beloved men in baseball, whose Rays made two playoff appearances in the last three years, including one in the World Series, needed this Ramirez situation the way his team needs the warehouse of a stadium, located in a retirement town, that it currently plays in; which would mean "not at all" and "anything would be better". Yet, one of the several aging, big-name former champions that the team brought aboard in order to replace the young, eventual champions that it could not afford turned out to be a steroid cheat. Now Maddon is forced to steer a rebuilding effort for a club that he brought thisclose to an improbable World Series title, after losing the player he hoped might make the biggest impact, while the baseball season was only one week old.
Such is life in the cruel world of the business of sports. But, the court of public opinion and public adoration can be crueler still; which may have contributed to Ramirez' downfall.
To consider Manny Ramirez a villain is almost too easy. How else are we supposed to consider a man whose robust statistics were at the very least aided by- if not the complete product of -cheating? But, in as many ways as Ramirez is a villain, he is also something of a victim.
There are two deeper issues at play here, rather than simply lies and deception, both of which are psychological. First, we have the culture of fame, in which celebrities are adored and admired for performing tasks at a certain level of excellence, maintaining their physical distinctiveness, and projecting a particular public persona. Secondly, not unrelated to the first issue, is the psyche of the aging athlete, who enters a sort of midlife crisis upon realizing that their skills may be diminishing.
The culture of fame, and how it relates to sports, presents a glaring double standard. Athletes are under tremendous scrutiny when it comes to the topic of Performance Enhancing Drugs, as most any gaudy statistic is called into question, no more so than in baseball. That being the case, ball players who are found to have used steroids are cast as malicious frauds who not only cheat the game they play by using substances that are harmful to their health, but they also set a dangerous precedent for youngsters who might try to achieve athletic prowess in a similar fashion. But, what are the athletes who use steroids really trying to cheat? Or are they simply trying to find a measure by which they can stay successful at something for which they are known and revered for a little while longer? You may say "fine, I get it. Of course these athletes just want to remain at the top of their game for a few more years, and there is nothing wrong with that, except for when doing so is against the rules and is unhealthy." I am not disputing the idea that steroids are dangerous, unhealthy, and even dishonest.
But, who among us is not trying to "enhance" their performance? That is where the double standard lies. In Hollywood, for example, I cannot think of a single actor who has not had plastic surgery in one way or another. Yet, such becomes tabloid news fodder, while an athlete who may have taken steroids is the subject of outrage, ridicule, and witch hunts. Is it any less appropriate for Manny Ramirez to take a substance that can help him produce the baseball statistics that
people expect from him for a little while longer, than it is for Julia Roberts to get a little nip here or a tuck there, in order to help her to keep getting the movie roles that people enjoy seeing her in?
You can even make the case that Hollywood, with its uncensored pedaling of body images and beauty ideals is even more dangerous to young people than athletes who take PEDs. How many times have we heard about teenagers, teenage girls in particular, who suffer eating disorders, abuse prescription drugs, demand nose jobs as birthday gifts, and suffer severe bouts of depression and anxiety because of the standards of beauty that the media bombards them with, which they can never truly attain? In my opinion, a student who opens fire on a school and murders classmates does so in part because he or she has become so disillusioned by not being able to fit in amongst others in a society that demands that people look and act a certain way. Needless to say, such ways of looking and acting are promoted by the media, embodied by the celebrities that people adore. Not that I would acquit someone who commits murder because I feel that they were pushed to do so by a ruthless society, but perhaps the pressure to live up to social ideals can force some to crack.
Of course, the ways in which athletes are promoted also deserves some blame here as well. After all, if they did not make millions in salary and endorsements, then they might feel less-inclined to take drugs in order to perform at such high levels and teenage athletes would not feel compelled to take drugs as well, or at least not be so incensed if they were not living up to a certain standard.
So, there is not an entity in the public eye that does not rely on outside resources in order enhance particpants' performance. Still, an actress who gets cosmetic surgery and spends countless dollars on diet, exercise, and wardrobe, in order to win movie parts is admired for maintaining the image that people have come to love. Yet, an athlete who resorts to parallel measures in order to prolong his career is vilified. If an athlete who uses steroids to gain an advantage is a cheater, then what do we call an actor who gets surgery in order to appear younger, thus denying a role in a movie to some other eager actor who has not gotten surgery? I say it is cheating as well and if doing so is wrong, then let it be wrong on all counts. The ways in which entertainment celebrities enhance their performance and prolong their careers is just as deceptive, dangerous, and detrimental as the ways in which athletes do. Furthermore, the case can be made that those in the entertainment field have a much more profound effect on the young because of the ways in which their deceptiveness is celebrated in the media.
Despite seeming capable of monumental physical feats, the star athlete is very fragile because they are so beloved for being so good at something, and their window for being that good begins to close rather quickly. Remember, while a star athlete might only have a decade or so of greatness, a great actor like Paul Newman could
get roles until the day he died. An athlete can perform at maximum level for only a few years, after which time their skills diminish, and they face the grim prospect of irrelevance. That alone is enough for an athlete to contemplate artificially enhancing their abilities and I cannot blame them for feeling that way. But, perhaps the recognition that athletes receive for their talents is just as important as the money. That said, it is very difficult on the psyche of the individual who was so well loved for his abilities, to accept that his abilities have abandoned him; and that goes for anyone, not only famous athletes, and it is what is often defined as a "midlife crisis".
Then, there is the issue of exactly what an athlete does upon retirement. We tend to be very condescending towards athletes who put off retirement, retire and then un-retire, or take a long time to make up their minds regarding retirement. But, what can one do who is still a young man yet all of a sudden cannot make a living at their chosen profession? Sure, we can talk all we want about fortunate these men were to get so rich in such a short time, playing a game, no less; and how they should just know when it's time to call it quits and stop hanging on for what? More
money? Another shot at a championship? We rolled our eyes when Michael Jordan quit basketball twice, only to return twice. We cringed at the annual Brett Favre retirement drama that would accompany each NFL offseason out of the past five or so. But what it all comes down to is how a man is expected to spend his time once he retires. Could Michael Jordan have gone down to his local YMCA and played pick up ball on a Wednesday night? And, even if he did, what was he going to do with the rest of his time? Sure, he is now an NBA owner and has made a business out of his endorsements that he first garnered as a player. But, Michael Jordan is first and foremost a basketball player and I do not begrudge him trying to be one if he felt that he still could be. Would Brett Favre spend each day hunting in the woods of Mississippi at 38 years old? Maybe. But, who's to say he should have to if he still wanted to play football? After all, is he a hunter? Or is he a football player?
Now, what of Manny Ramirez? At 38 he presumably has half his life ahead of him and while he made great money playing baseball, and I hope that he was able to preserve much of that wealth, what will he do for the rest of his life? A Dominican kid, brought up in Washington Heights, he is not exactly superbly educated and it is not like he has a career as a hedge fund manager, a politician, or even a broadcaster to look forward to. So, what could Manny Ramirez possibly do at his age besides try and play baseball a few years longer, maybe even help another team win? That's all he has done his whole adult life; play baseball, and help teams win, whether it was in Cleveland, Boston, or LA. Now he will not do either of those things anymore. So, while Manny Ramirez is very lucky to have gotten a one-in-a-million chance, which he played to his maximum benefit, it does not mean that he should just have been content to let it all evaporate. So, he broke the rules in order to maintain his career, he got caught, and the eventual endgame has come to fruition anyway.
As a society, we value greatness and place a premium on it. We like seeing those who demonstrate greatness continue to do so. On the one hand, we ignore the fact that one segment of the celebrity population takes what ultimately amounts to unhealthy measures to keep generating greatness, while on the other hand we condemn another segment of the celebrity population for doing likewise.
Manny Ramirez really did not harm anyone by using PED's to help prolong his career, other than perhaps himself. No one was hurt, killed, or robbed, and all he did was possibly skew a set of numbers that may have done plenty to balance his check book and those of the people with whom he did business, but that would never balance a national budget. Besides, people liked seeing him hit homeruns. And, while Ramirez was a great player whose career statistics may have been inflated because he
used PED's, Mickey Mantle was a great player whose career statistics may have been hampered by the fact that he played half of his games hungover. So, as an objective fan, I can resent both of them for engaging in harmful behavior that altered their statistics and could have negatively influenced youngsters. While Ramirez' actions may have served to negatively influence kids, they are no more more harmful than the bad influences seen every day, and in so many ways, all over the media; yet those bad influences are accepted and even encouraged.
I feel badly about the end of Manny Ramirez' career for how it played out. I do not appreciate the way in which Ramirez tried to prolong himself. But, I can appreciate why he did it. After all, aren't we all looking for ways to stay at the top of our game?
