Baseball's Great Escape

This week in baseball seemed anything but. A hometown hero changed cities in a move that seemed more fitting of Lex Luther than Superman, and the NL MVP's positive test for a banned substance was like finding out the Hulk had calf implants.

If the World Series - and, really, the entire final two months of baseball - hadn't ended in such spectacular fashion, I'd feel a bit more taken aback by this. The fact is, this past week was the embodiment of why fans should be careful to tiptoe the line between fanship and worship, between fantasy and reality, between being human and what it means to be human.

I think it's akin to a gladiator effect, like looking down at a pair of gladiators from the upper bowl of the Coliseum. The perspective is shifted towards what we want them to be, to do, to say, to think, to feel. All perspective looking up from the ring is lost because no one is down there with them. Likewise, we have a tendency to strip athletes of who they are and try to turn them into who we want them to be.

I'm guilty of it. I know this because it's a by-product of what sports are supposed to be - a departure from our own reality to a world where the biggest concern is defeating another team with a bat and ball. We romanticize it and tie a bow on it. Baseball lets us escape to a different perspective where we no longer have to stand in the gladiator ring but can instead sit up top and watch.

To see an athlete we've revered seemingly depart from the virtues we've bestowed upon him is just another sad reality that the escape doesn't apply past the playing field. For God's sake, we called Albert a "Machine". Baseball, despite its beauty and wonder and fantasy, is still played by humans. I think people are upset (although most seem to be coming to terms now) because they saw a player act on his own human emotions rather than ours.

It's tough, I know, but it's the truth. Albert is not who we want him to be. Ryan Braun is not who we want him to be. That doesn't make them any less of a person or the game of baseball any less of a sport. If anything, it magnifies the fact that it is the game of baseball that we should revere in such high a fashion, not the players. To place expectations on a person that most of us don't even know is unjust and, quite simply, a waste of time.

So, Albert isn't who we thought he was. That's not his fault. The takeaway is that no athlete is who we think they ought to be. That's ok. They're human. We're human. We each have different wants, desires, thoughts, and feelings that pertain to our own circumstances. Keep that in mind the next time an athlete makes comments to the media. If you're prone to judge, you can make your judgment accordingly. In the end, no matter who signs next week or who tests positive next month, the game of baseball will live on and be there to let us escape for a while. No more, no less.