Writing the Pine

There are a few people I have on an imaginary list in my head. They are the heroes of the gridiron and baseball diamond and hardwood floors that I grew to watch, love, and respect. Near the top of the list is Mariano Rivera.

Here is a man unmatched in his performance with the game literally on the line. His postseason greatness is historically unrivaled and any true Yankees and baseball fan knows that the late ‘90s dynasty in the Bronx would not have existed without Mariano closing out games and anchoring the bullpen.

He is a family man, a man of the faith, and humble: After each one of his 500+ saves, the man known simply as “Mo” calmly walks off the mound and shakes his catcher’s hand. A welcome relief from the antics of the crosstown K-Rod, Papelbon, and even his teammate Joba Chamberlain, which often leave opponents miffed.

From his humble beginnings in Panama to his current status as a first-ballot, unanimous Hall of Famer five years from when he retires, his demeanor and professionalism has never changed. More importantly in this argument, his 6’2”, 180 lbs physique has never changed in the ways his opponents in the batter box and teammates in the dugout have grown to cartoon-ish proportions. It’s almost symbolic that the only man in baseball left to be grandfathered in for wearing the now universally retired number “42” in honor of Jackie Robinson, be a true throwback to the days before HGH, designer steroids and fertility drugs. (Yes, I’m talking to you Manny.)

Yet, the state of baseball has me doubting once in a while, whether this continued dominance through Mo’s late years is attributable to his natural athleticism, hard work, and the infamous cutter, or to chemistry. (And I’m not talking about the type in the clubhouse. Actually, scratch that comment. I am.)

Early in his career, Mo struggled with arm injuries and was left unprotected in the expansion drafts in ’92. He was on the verge of getting traded before ever making it to the majors. Then his velocity dramatically increased 6 MPH to 96 and accidentally discovered his cutter while tossing in the outfield. Was there a reason for the spike in velocity and good fortune in health the rest of his career? Damn, now they have me doubting Rivera.

There are still about 100 or so names still left on the 2003 list. (Maybe less according to reports from the MLBPA and Commissioner’s Office) And this was after EVERYONE knew they would be tested. I hope Mo didn’t cheat. I don’t think he did. Much like the way Manny and Big Papi’s steroid revelations tarnish the 2004 and 2007 championships in some eyes, I would have a tainted view of the late ‘90s glory years. The Sports Guy Bill Simmons described the 2004 run as the purest sports moment in his life. I feel the same way about the comeback against the Braves in the 1996 World Series. Wade Boggs on a horse in the outfield warning track. Charlie Hayes catching the foul pop in third base foul territory. John Wetteland on the mound. Paul O’Neill awkwardly somersaulting into the pile near the mound. Derek Jeter with his soon-to-be trademark fist pump.

A tarnished legacy of Mo is by extension tarnishing the accomplishments of an entire team, franchise, and the fond memories of a young sports fan. But the sorry state of baseball has tarnished the accomplishments of everyone in the sport past, present, and future.

Even the great Mariano Rivera.