The Futility Infielder

Yesterday's Bull Durham-related controversy reminded me exactly why I don't write about politics anymore: it angries up the blood, to borrow a phrase from Satchel Paige. Of course, he was talking about fried meats, not free speech and civil liberties, but I'll reckon ol' Satch probably knew a few things about those too.

Anyway, there are a few links I want to pass on before I leave this behind and get back to talking baseball, where our agreements and disagreements are more benign, less charged. As Tim Robbins eloquently put it yesterday: "Isn't one of the greatest things about going to the ballpark that you can sit next to someone you don't agree about anything with and cheer for the same thing?''

First up is a letter to the Hall of Shame from Jules Tygiel, author of one of my favorite baseball books, Past Time, and a man who, from his writing on Jackie Robinson to his work on the recent traveling Baseball As America exhibit, has had a huge impact on my understanding of the game's social aspect. Tygiel's letter, which he posted on Baseball Primer, eloquently sums up my feelings on this imbroglio, so I'll rerun it here:

Dear Dale:

As the holder of a lifetime membership in the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Musuem, someone whose personal papers currently reside in the library at the Hall of Fame, and the author of the introductory sections (including those on patriotism and nationalism) to the Hall of Fame publication, Baseball As America: Seeing Ourselves Through Our National Game, I wish to strongly protest your imperious decision to cancel the commemoration of the anniversary of Bull Durham in Cooperstown, due to the opposition to the Iraq war voiced by its stars Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins.

The presidency of the Baseball Hall of Fame is, in effect, a sacred trust. By politicizing the Hall of Fame, you have violated that trust. Your position does not give you the right to impose your own political views on the events at the Hall to the exclusion of all others. One must assume that if people who protest American military actions are not welcome at the Hall of Fame, then Abraham Lincoln who opposed the Mexican War, Mark Twain who opposed the Spanish-American and Philippine Wars, and Martin Luther King, Jr., who opposed the war in Vietnam would not be welcome at the Baseball Hall of Fame. I also must assume that this letter jeopardizes my own future relationship with the Hall.

You write of Sarandon and Robbins, "We believe your very public criticism of President Bush at this important -- and sensitive -- time in our nation's history helps undermine the U.S. position, which ultimately could put our troops in even more danger. As an institution, we stand behind our President and our troops in this conflict." How was this institutional position arrived at? Were the employees or trustees polled? Were the people who pay dues to the organization asked? Were those enshrined consulted? Or is this the fiat of one person, yourself? Since when does the Hall of Fame take a position on political issues or voice open support for political figures and why is the opinion of the head a baseball museum more valid or valued than those of other public figures, like movie stars?

I doubt very much that the expressed opinions of two celebrities “put our troops in…danger.” But actions like yours place our basic constitutional rights in dire jeopardy and disqualify you from representing the American national pastime. If you cannot see clear to reverse your position, then hopefully you will have the decency to resign.

Sincerely,

Jules Tygiel

Tygiel wasn't the only renowned baseball writer who chose to distance himself from the Hall. Boys of Summer author Roger Kahn cancelled an appearance there. Hell, even Major League Baseball, which has shown its own PR ineptitude in the past, wasn't touching the Hall with a ten-foot pole: ""Major League Baseball has nothing to do with a Hall of Fame event,'' said Richard Levin, the MLB's senior vice president for public relations. "It is not our practice to make political statements.''

Next up is Steve Kelley of the Seattle Times, who drew a contrast between Iraqis celebarating their new-found freedom with Dale Petroskey's actions, calling the Hall president a "21st-century Joe McCarthy (the former senator, not the former manager)." Jeff Blair of Toronto Globe and Mail invoked McCarthy as well: "And you thought the only Joe McCarthy in Cooperstown was the legendary former manager? Let's get this straight: Cooperstown has admitted racists, drunks, gamblers and people with god knows what else in their closet. It's already admitted Reds, for Pete's sake. It has articles on display from guys who dabbled in illegal drugs when they played and, in the next decade, will start admitting a generation of power hitters and power pitchers, at least a few of whom used illegal steroids. It has, in short, admitted the worst and the best of the game and society — people whose tendencies leaned toward cross burning as well as trailblazing. It is representative."

Jeff Jacobs of the Hartford Courant and Ira Berkow of the New York Times both drew on speeches from Bull Durham in their responses. Jacobs mused that while "Crash Davis said there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter... Kevin Costner's character never told Susan Sarandon's character there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing free speech. Maybe Dale Petroskey got that part confused." Berkow uses Annie Savoy's quoting of Walt Whitman:

"I see great things in baseball, it's our game. The American game. It will repair our losses and be a blessing to us."'I see great things in baseball, it's our game. The American game. It will repair our losses and be a blessing to us. "

Baseball in many ways has indeed come to symbolize America. For example, the manager informs the umpire that he's an idiot. That is called dissent, a longstanding institution in this country, but one with which Dale Petroskey, president of the Baseball Hall of Fame, is not fully familiar...

Although Petroskey wrote "We believe," it was left unclear exactly who "we" were. According to Jeff Idelson, the Hall's public-relations executive, Petroskey said it was "a management decision," which means it was a royal "we" - Petroskey acting alone, apparently without consulting his board, which includes a handful of baseball people, including Bud Selig, George Steinbrenner, Joe Morgan, Frank Robinson and Tom Seaver. (Petroskey refused to take phone calls.)

Is Petroskey saying that it's O.K. to dissent as long as you don't have the large platform that people like Robbins and Sarandon enjoy? And what does it mean to "act and speak responsibly"? Should we all simply follow the opinion of others? Is that American? Aren't our soldiers fighting for freedom for the Iraqis, the chance to institute a democratic government like the one in this country that (oops) protects free speech?

Dan Le Batard of the Miami Herald spoke to a weary Robbins yesterday, who told him, "The danger in something like this is it sends the message that if you don't agree with the administration, you'll be punished. The people who say actors shouldn't opine about these things are the people who think we'll have public influence. Maybe they should strengthen their arguments instead of worrying about us. I worry people will get intimidated by backlash, won't participate in democracy and will just let the government do what it pleases. That's unhealthy in a democracy where we celebrate our differences of opinion.''

Finally, Chuck Carlson of Wisconsin's Oshkosh Northwestern (whaddaya mean you've never heard of it?) reminded us that all over the country, Petroskey looks out of step:" Perhaps Petroskey and his conservative cronies believe they’ve struck another blow for real Americans. But, in reality, he hasn’t. This is a move that will look to most normal American as the small-minded stunt it is and, perhaps, maybe he’ll still change what’s left of his mind. But don’t count on it. In the meantime, pick up “Bull Durham” and revel in it one more time. Because, despite the efforts of the lunatic fringe, it remains a great baseball movie and symbolizes, in so many ways, what this country used to be about and what it may be again someday."

Amen to that.