The news that broke yesterday about David Ortiz being on “the list” of 104 players who tested positive for steroids has me in a funk. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can only wait for the rest of the story and hope that there is something that will make this better. The only thing I’ve found to make the waiting tolerable is a steady intake of Schlitz and an occasional Jagermeister to cleanse the palate.
When Ortiz was in the midst of his horrendous slump, I had this to say:
I cannot put into words how badly I want Ortiz to come back strong. If there is any good left in the game of baseball, Ortiz represents it. As much sense as the steroids theory makes, I am doing my best to reject it. Because if Ortiz is proven a cheater, what is left?
The guy been the ambassador to the sport since his emergence here in 2003. He has played the game with a smile and spoken out vehemently against the use of performance-enhancing drugs. He has been Boston’s “clutchest” hitter and most prolific single-season homerun hitter. He has done everything right. Maybe I’m a homer for not wanting to believe what some think is obvious. Or maybe I’m someone who believes there are still some role models out there in professional sports, some good guys left in the world.
I’ve never felt so disillusioned about something I love as I feel about baseball right now.
