David Ortiz: Summer of Sin

It's been a sad Summer for the Improper Sportsonian. The self-proclaimed "Masshole" has spent his summer vacation engulfed by obnoxious Yankee fans, delusional Met fans, 20-something Guidos who drink enough Redbulls to kill a baby elephant, and fake girls whose only worry of their summer is how bronze their skin tone is. Yup, that's right. I have chosen to spend my summer on Long Island. I swear I had to be free-basing meth when I thought that would be a good idea.

So what better way to recharge your batteries than to spend a few weeks in the little slice of heaven that is Cape Cod. It's going to be perfect. I'll see some people, go to the beach, watch the Sox, maybe even catch a Cape League game. It'll be just what the doctor ordered. Hell, even the ride back was at a brisk 3-hour, 45-minute pace. This was meant to be.

BUT I, and many sports fans alike, failed to see the dark storm brewing over 1 Yawkey Way. On the eve of baseball's equivalent to Christmas The New York Times played the role of the Grinch, breaking a story that in 2003, Red Sox sluggers Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz highlighted the list of about 100 MLB players who tested positive for performance-enhancing drugs. Wow. That hurt just typing the words. The story was a spring board for journalists, reporters, bloggers, and anyone with an opinion to bash a team that has been charmed this century with winning.

But this news was far more heinous for Ortiz, arguably the league's most marketable figure. Ortiz had painted himself into this larger-than-life teddy bear character, Big Papi. Lifted from the mediocrity in the midwest, Big Papi began bashing baseballs in Boston and did so with a smile on his face. He was loved by teammates, feared by pitchers, and jeered by opposing fans. It was his childlike approach to the game that helped the Red Sox turn the corner from lovable, hard-luck losers to perinneal pennant chasers. And on his way to winning a World Series in 2004, he became an ambassador of the league; being the top vote-getter in all-star games, endless commercials deals, visiting foreign countries to extend the game of baseball to the less fortunate.

This past February he even spoke out against steroid users, saying that all current users should be slapped with a one-year ban. He even went as far as to say that he was caught, he'd bring shame to his family name, team, and the league. Talk about foot-in-mouth syndrome.

Well, it looks like he learned his lesson of speaking too soon. Since the report came out he has yet to speak to reporters about such accusations, only saying "You know me. When I find out all the details you will know as well." I'm sorry David, but do we really know you? The David Ortiz I know didn't cheat his way to the top. The David Ortiz I know would not back down and cower when adversity would stare him in the face (I mean did you see Games 4 and 5?!?). But that's exactly my point. How well do we know our favorite athletes. The answer is we don't. We, as sports fans, fall in love with the athlete on the field, but have no idea who that person is when the jersey is not on. Or what they did to become that good with the jersey on in the first place.

I have been blessed to have not only seen two World Series victories, but to have seen them in my youth. And as a teenager watching these Red Sox teams of the new millennium I drew a lot of parallels to life during the awkward years: being bullied by upper classmen (the Yankees), losing out on a date with the hot cheerleader (Jose Contreras, Giambi, A-Rod, Texiera), and growing out of the pimply-faced nerd and in to a legitimate sex machine that can compete with the rest (2004 & 2007 World Series).

To hear that the most feared 3-4 combination in the league was juicing is hard to swallow. Despite the exaggerated efforts of Yankee fans, this does not and will not diminish the championships in '04 and '07. Granted Ortiz was the ALCS MVP and Ramirez the World Series MVP, there were many other intricate players involved: Dave Roberts and his stealing of second base, Curt Schilling and the folklore of his blood sock, the bullpen-anchored by Keith Foulke- pitching lights out, Johnny Damon's 2-homer performance in Game 7, Derek Lowe winning every clinching game of the postseason. It was truly a team effort and to take that away from those players is a disservice and a dis-justice to them.

Pedro Martinez, who has never seen a microphone he didn't like, had this to say on the topic: "There's no crying in baseball. We won in 2004. That's it. Are you going to tell me that the other guys, who used it on other teams are now whining? They used it, too." He's right, how tainted can the Sox be if everyone was using? If that's the case then everyone is playing on the same jacked-up field.

If this is story has told us anything, it's that no one can be trusted...except for Jose Canseco, of course. He seems to have been right about everything. Anyone who has played before the new steroid regime is suspect.