Back when I was a wee slip of a lad and sandlot baseball was the sole purpose of summer vacations, when you played everyday from a bout half hour after breakfast until somebody's mom came out to tell yo to go home for dinner, I wanted to be a professional baseball player but since I didn't realize grown men playing my favorite game were called "professional" I just said ballplayer.
Like generations before me, but unlike most of those who've come since then, I didn't realize everything that had a cost also had a price. It wasn't until baseball ran smack up against the Steroid Era that even it finally acknowledged the price to be paid was too steep.
My attitude on that was when Jose Canseco is the most honest and virtuous man in the room, you either need to get a much larger room or declare moral bankruptcy. With the billions hat major league baseball turns over three guesses as to which one was going to happen first and the first two guesses don't count.
But for a sport that has produced a Barry Bonds, a Sammy Sosa, a Roger Clemens, a Mark McGuire and an Alex Rodriguez (an assumption and presumption of innocence can go a long way though hopefully not all the way to Cooperstown, NY), yesterday was a moment of at least partial redemption as the class of 2014 was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.
Especially the players with the might of Frank Thomas and the powerful arms of Maddux and Glavine, on behalf of twelve-year-olds everywhere with our chewed upon laces of the pinkie finger of our baseball gloves up against our right temple level with our eye in as close to a salute as we may ever get, thanks MLB for doing something right. It was a great day to love the sport, no matter what team you root for.