Here is something that perplexes me about the folks at ESPN. It's likely that you won't find a greater concentration of genuine experts on professional sports than in Bristol, Conn. - men and women who are equally well-versed in batting averages and Olympic-medal figure skaters.
Yet for all their knowledge and all of ESPN's success as the primo sports conglomerate in the United States, they can't figure out one simple thing.
The vast majority of people outside New England don't give a crap about the Red Sox OR the Yankees, and we don't want them crammed down our collective throat anymore. Thanks.
This season, 30 Major League Baseball teams will play a total of 4,860 regular season games, approximately 4,174 of which will be Red Sox-Yankees games on ESPN or Fox. Somewhere between 98 and 100 percent of ESPN.com's feature baseball columnists will write about (and every one of Peter Gammons' columns will be about) one team or the other. It's enough to make a guy who grew up watching the Mariners puke. Want a glimpse into the future? The Sox miss the playoffs when J.D. Drew breaks down and the middle relief sucks - again. The Yankees fall short of the Series - again - because they still haven't remembered that pitching wins in October.
The provincialism in the coverage is only one reason why I've stopped watching major league baseball, though. Some might call baseball stately and a gentlemen's game, but I prefer "boring." Baseball snobs reading this can turn up their noses, but I'll bet that some of you, if not most, are nodding in agreement. Having watched a ton of baseball with my dad in my life, both on TV and in person, I understand the nuances of the game; it's just that I don't find them entertaining.
Pitchers circle the mound, throw the resin bag around, shake off about 12 signs, and then make a throw to first to hold the runner. They repeat the whole cycle again, actually get ready to deliver to home, and the batter calls for time to readjust his batting gloves. Meanwhile, 45 seconds have gone by without anything of significance occurring unless you count my eyes glazing over. Baseball on TV is great for insomniacs - less so if you're someone who appreciates when things happen.
It cracks me up when I hear people bash soccer as boring and at the same time laud baseball as America's pastime. There's no scoring in soccer? There are also no commercials, no time-outs, praise God no 15-second delays for resin bags and nobody on steroids.
Which is the second major reason that I've grown disinterested in baseball: the almost-certain rampant cheating. I don't doubt that there are lots of players on steroids in the NFL. Hell, Shawne Merriman nearly won Defensive Player of the Year and got named to the Pro Bowl after testing positive for steroids and getting suspended for four games. I follow the NFL with fervor, so why do I care about steroids in baseball?
Much more so than pro football, baseball hallows its records. How many yards did Emmitt Smith rush for in his career? Now, how long was Joe DiMaggio's hit streak in 1941? In baseball, numbers are sacred, and with a few adjustments, you can compare players across eras. It's a way of propagating the history of the game. On the other hand, there's just not much doubt that a running back today in the NFL, even an average one, would be too strong, fast and athletic for the linebackers of the 1960s, so the numbers are irrelevant.
Steroids are such a scourge in baseball because they tear at the fabric of the game. Barry Bonds' homerun totals are as cheap as a Vegas shotgun marriage, and his cheating strikes at baseball's core in a way that the effect of Merriman's steroid use on football could never match. I guess some of the nobility of the sport has been tarnished in my eyes by all the recent revelations of players jacked up on human growth hormone and greenies smacking 600-foot home runs.
So that's why I don't like baseball. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm looking for a more exciting alternative, and I hear there's a WNBA game on television tonight.
Matthew Mertens is a sophomore who has not yet declared a major. He can be reached at Matthew.Mertens@tufts.edu.
