Stealth and trickery always have been elements of baseball. A good bluff by a baserunner can produce a very memorable moment. The problem comes when players — and coaches — lose sight of the subtle seam that exists between clever strategy and out-and-out cheating.
Sadly, the caretakers of the National Pastime have lost sight of that seam.
One year after a Bronx team was disqualified for using an over-age pitcher, another New York team, The Harlem All-Stars were at the center of an investigation for employing "ringers" — players brought in from other areas to bolster the strength of a roster. The problem was resolved, but cast some clouds on the normally sunny Little League World Series.
The sport of baseball itself — which has never fared well in stormy conditions — has been soaked in several ways this year. Steroid use in the Major Leagues means sluggers like Mark McGuire, Barry Bonds and Sammy Sosa may end up with an asterisk by their names in the home run record books. A dwindling fan base, an All-Star game that ended in a tie and threats of a players strike have most fans once again asking themselves that famous question, "Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?"
Amid all the muck, fans had hoped that the purity of the game could still be preserved at the amateur level; but last year's win-at-all-costs attitude of the Little League rule benders and this year's brush with scandal threatens to even cast doubt on the bubblegummers.
The last straw will come if fans learn that Louisville Slugger bats never came from Louisville.
Scandals come and go, of course. The peccadillos of "Shoeless" Joe Jackson prompted the film "Field of Dreams," and the Pete Rose betting debacle still surfaces several times a year. But this year the pine tar of underhanded antics seems to be sticking to the tradition itself. And shenanigans at the Little League level are a double-whammy. They not only pollute the game, but also America's youth.
Baseball can endure disappointment and disillusionment. Look how many years Cubs fans have kept coming back.
What the game can't abide, however, is the disgust and eventual apathy of lifelong fans. Unless the monitors of America's pastime get their act together soon, Mighty Casey won't be the only one going down on strikes in baseball lore. It could also be strike three for a sport that has been one of the lovelier aspects of American culture for more than century.