It's where I first learned to play baseball. Heck, when I was seven, I slid head-first into first base in my first-ever at-bat in the T-ball league my father signed me up for. Simply because it was something I saw the legendary Pete Rose do once on TV when I was a child.
Back then, us kids looked up to baseball players. We all did.
On the Navy base I grew up on, there was a giant field --- and I do mean giant --- literally 100 or so feet from the front of the trailer I grew up in. The field was once a runway, and eventually, grass grew there plentifully, making it an open area kids could play in.
It was an innocent time, those 1980s.
The favorite thing I recall about that field was that for the longest time, there was only one structure built on the massive plot of land.
An old, rickety, silver baseball backstop.
I and others in the neighborhood would gather on an almost daily basis to play ball, much like the kids in the movie "The Sandlot." It's where I learned to love the game. It's where I'd hear my mother yelling for me to come in for dinner when the sun finally peeked below the horizon.
It was childhood innocence at it's purest.
Perhaps that's why I get so defensive when people ask me why I wouldn't vote for Barry Bonds, Sammy Sosa or Roger Clemens for the Hall of Fame.
(Bonds in 1990 vs. 2007. Who knew your neck could grow so much wider naturally?)
I'm guessing that at some point, Bonds, Sosa and the "Rocket" as we called him back then also played baseball on small fields like I did, when they were kids, and long before they became famous for their athletic abilities.
But at some point in each of their lives, something changed. What that something was, only they truly know.
Maybe it's because of the money, and the millions that were thrown their way. Maybe it's an ego thing. But whatever it was, it was a choice. A conscious choise they made...to suddenly all be different people than the public was accustomed to seeing, out of the blue.
When Barry Bonds' attorneys claimed during their court testimony Bonds was stuffing his body full of steroids and designer steroids like HGH but wasn't aware of what he was being given, I shut off the television and never watched another second of what was said.
Seeing Sammy Sosa suddenly forget how to speak English while testifying in front of Congress and being asked about whether or not he juiced, well that just made me shake my head in disbelief and turn the TV off then also.
And when Roger Clemens was brought up on charges he used PEDs, that were ultimately dropped, I stopped watching that fiasco pretty early on as well.
Part of the Hall of Fame voting process says voters should include a player's character, and their contributions to the game in assessing that individual's Hall-worthiness.
If I'm Barry Bonds, I know what is or isn't going into my body. Always. To say someone was just handing you creams, oils and other things to put on and in your body, yet you had no clue, is akin to someone handing you or I a bottle filled with an unknown substance, and us simply drinking it without even asking what it is.
It's ridiculous. It insults my intelligence.
(1990 vs. 2003. Hey, I work out too. Why don't I get that big in my 30s?)
In Sosa's case, well, there's that pesky New York Times report that he failed a test in 2003 and was also a juicer. And regardless of how the Times came upon the information, which was supposed to be kept secret, is really beside the point. Has Sosa ever once denied those alleged results being true? Did he sue the New York Times?
No.
I am also reminded of another incident, where Sosa was caught using a corked bat that exploded all over the Wrigley Field infield grass, then claimed ignorance.
And Clemens, whose own teammate Andy Petite tesitfied --- then retracted --- that he was well-aware he also juiced...well, consider this:
At age 42, in 2004, Clemens posted an 18-4 record and a 2.98 ERA in 214 innings. At age 43, he went 13-8 with a ridiculous 1.87 ERA. I challenge all of you to remember what you were doing, or will be, at age 43.
There are those who will argue that there is still no definitive proof any of these three juiced.
The words "resonable doubt" echo in my mind. That is, until I also stop to consider this:
If you weren't using steroids, and someone accused you of doing so, would you sit back and openly take the allegations and suspicions of an entire nation? Wouldn't you be furious that your name, reputation or credibility had been damaged? Or would you sit back, as one of the finest athletes the world has ever known, and just take it?
Funny how after yesterday's Hall of Fame vote, there's been neary a peep from any of these three. As strong as these warriors and competitiors would push themselves to win on a baseball field, how incredibly telling that when this occurs, and they aren't voted into the Hall, they are as quiet and shy publicly as the Cowardly Lion in the Wizard of Oz.
Maybe I was born yesterday. But do any of those things above scream out "good character" to you? Is there a shred of evidence that's been shown to overwhelmingly prove these three are truly innocent victims of a witch hunt?
Not a shred.
Sure, there are some semi-ratonal arguements out there that oppose mine.
Still, I'd never vote for any of these three for the Hall of Fame.
Maybe it's just gut instinct. Maybe it's my ability to read between the lines, or put two-and-two together. Or maybe it's my simple human empathy and reaction to know that those who are innocent behave a lot differently that these guys have in the face of such accusations.
People aren't dumb.
Which is why my 10-year-old self, standing in that field playing ball on a hot summer day back then would never, ever allow me to vote for any of these three.
The innocence and purity that I once felt when I played the game back then as a child, after all, insists upon it.
In a world where I, too, am now a parent to a child who loves baseball already, I have chosen to take a stand.
Frankly, taking these kinds of stands are just the thing our society needs a little more of these days.
Because doing and preaching the right things to our own kids makes us far greater heroes than any of these baseball players will ever be.
