For the second time in four years, baseball played its biggest game. Not on the lush green grass of Fenway Park or Yankee Stadium, but in the cold, sterile chambers of the U.S. Capitol. With Commissioner Bud Selig and Major League Baseball Players Association leader Donald Fehr appearing before the House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform, the national pastime was found defending itself from the harsh stigma of a steroid scandal in the nation's capital.
As a passionate fan of the defending World Series Champion Boston Red Sox, I sat captivated in front of my TV like lots of fans across the country. I was ready to see the drama unfold before my eyes. Would Selig crack under pressure? Would the truth finally come out about players taking steroids? How long could Selig and Fehr actually sit next to each other and remain civil?
Sadly, like watching a Little League T-Ball game, where everything always ends in a "we are all winners" tie, nothing was actually achieved. The commissioner offered that everything was already "under investigation," as if anything said by Chairman Henry Waxman of California was actually earth shatteringly breaking news to Major League Baseball.
Fehr, on the other hand, seemed to want to remind everyone that as a union leader, he had an obligation to protect his players from unfair labor practices such as random drug testing. Apparently, in his mind, pampered millionaire ballplayers are just as mistreated as hourly wage steelworkers.
Finally, Congress, the most powerful institution in the country, did what it does best: nothing. Once again, a major national issue was brought before a committee, debated for hours, and maintained the status quo.
Yet, does any of this really matter? In the long run, does anybody actually pay attention to these hearings?
Baseball attendance once again set a new record this past season, proving that fans are not being driven away by the scandal. Sales of baseball merchandise are also through the roof, especially here in D.C., where a new ballpark on the waterfront is making D.C. residents excited again about their Nationals.
As for me, I don't care about who does steroids and who doesn't. For every villain like Roger Clemens and Barry Bonds, there are the unsung heroes like 5-foot-8-inch Dustin Pedroia or rookie fireballer Joba Chamberlain. When I see them play, the question that comes to mind isn't, "Do you think they are on steroids?" Rather, the question that comes to mind is, "Man, can you believe that play they just made"
