Taking the magic out of sports

I'm not a huge baseball fan, but I do make it a point to tune in for the historic moments. I tuned in to the Mark McGuire/Sammy Sosa home run battle when I was in high school. As a true-blue Bostonian, I watched every second of the Red Sox's unprecedented victory over the Yankees, and I drank a bottle of cheap champagne when they swept the Cardinals. I also watched the game where Barry Bonds hit his 660th home run, and the game where he hit number 700. That's why I was so sad to hear on ESPN that Barry Bonds had admitted to using steroids.

To quickly bring those that have just arrived from Mars up to speed, Bonds plays baseball for the San Francisco Giants, and is on his way to hitting more home runs in his career than anyone else in history. Throughout his career he has been one of the best, most dependable sluggers in the league, and has been named the National League Most Valuable Player seven times. Many analysts believe that, even before his steroid era, he was destined for the Hall of Fame.

Now, before I get a million angry e-mails from Giants fans, let's get one thing straight: Bonds did not admit to knowingly using performance-enhancing substances. However, he did tell a grand jury that he accepted two substances from his trainer that turned out to be illegal steroids. Whether Bonds knew what his trainer was giving him or not is irrelevant, because the fact is that, for the last few years, Bonds' breathtaking performance on the field has been, quite simply, not his actual performance.

Since the Bonds admission there has been a lot of talk about the steroid problem, most of it centering on cheating, altering the balance of the game and what part corporate money played in pushing athletes to these methods. While this discussion is useful and important, I want to focus on another aspect: the effect this has on the fans. As a diehard fan of some sports, and a casual fan of baseball, I can tell you what effect it had on me. It made me care less about the players and their heroic accomplishments.

Professional athletes hold an honored place in our society. They get paid millions of dollars, are worshiped as celebrities and can (sometimes literally) get away with murder. Why is this true? Because pro athletes are heroes. They are the Hercules and the King Arthur of modern society. They might not be slaying dragons or rescuing damsels, but they are still heroes. They can do things that normal people just can't.

That's why people can be casual sports fans, because they like watching gifted athletes perform near-miracles. To give a non-baseball example, I love the New England Patriots, and watch their games every week. But I also watch the Indianapolis Colts' Peyton Manning and the Philadelphia Eagles' Terrell Owens, even though I hardly ever care about the outcome of their games. I watch them because Manning can throw touchdowns like no one else in history, and Owens is, well, Owens is just a beast. Bonds is the same way. I don't care about the Giants, or even that much about baseball in general. But I followed Bonds last season as he continued his quest towards a new home run record, watched the games where he hit important milestones, read newspaper articles about his latest outings. I like watching athletes do things that seem impossible because I could never do them.

But with steroids, that all changes. In fact, that is all eliminated. So what if Bonds breaks the record? Even if he hits 756 runs for a new high, he hasn't really done it. It is "the cream" and "the clear" (as those steroids are commonly known) that are poised to set the record, not his natural athletic prowess. And how am I supposed to get excited about something predicated on creams, pills and drinks? It's only amazing, only heroic, if it demonstrates a new height of human ability. Let's make one thing clear: I could never hit a home run, but if I took steroids, I could get a hell of a lot closer.

It's disappointing to have something fun taken away, and that's what the whole stupid steroid fiasco has really accomplished. The anticipation, the excitement, and the energy surrounding Bonds' record-breaking run have all evaporated. For casual fans like me, there was joy in following the story. Now, there isn't. Sports has always been a worthy diversion from real life, a peek into the realm of heroes, but now it's just another thing to shrug your shoulders at and say "so what?"

Please note All comments are eligible for publication in The Daily Pennsylvanian.