Forgive and forget? Not again...

Forgive and forget? Not again...

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Dear Major League Baseball,

Have you ever heard the saying, "Learn from your mistakes"? I hope so, and, more important, I hope you understand its meaning.

Here we are in late August, watching one of the greatest pennant races in recent baseball history unfold, but all we ever hear about anymore are the impending labor talks and the "very real possibility" of a work stoppage. Along with our nightly updates of Barry Bonds longballs and Ichiro slap singles, we have to be reminded on a daily basis that your collective bargaining agreement, signed in 1995, is only months from expiration.

And I, for one, think that's ridiculous. Mind you, it's not ridiculous that we hear about this stuff on ESPN and read about it in the newspapers every day; the fact that you, the owners and the players' union, have again made this stuff news is what confuses me. In my mind, the only time the word "labor" should ever be associated with baseball is when a play-by-play man says something like, "He's really laboring out there" when talking about a struggling pitcher, or when a player misses a few games because, "his wife went into labor." But that's not the case, is it?

Like most baseball fans above the age of 12, I remember the last time you put money ahead of the game on your list of priorities. It was 1994, and it had all the makings of a truly special year. With nearly 50 games left in the season, the Montreal Expos -- yes, the Montreal Expos -- owned the best record in baseball (74-40), led by Moises Alou, Larry Walker, Pedro Martinez and John Wetteland, and in the American League the Cleveland Indians were wrestling the White Sox for a postseason invitation after decades of futility and disappointments. Tony Gwynn was knocking on history's door with his .394 average, while Ken Griffey Jr., Matt Williams and Jeff Bagwell were poised to make a serious run at the single-season home run record, at that time held by Roger Maris (remember him?). Chuck Knoblauch needed 22 more doubles to tie Earl Webb's record of 67, set in 1931, and three players had legitimate shots at the Triple Crown: Albert Belle (second in the AL with a .357 average, third with 36 homers and tied for third with 101 RBI), Frank Thomas (third in the AL with a .353 average, second with 38 homers and tied for third with 101 RBI) and Jeff Bagwell (second in the NL with a .367 average, second with 39 homers and first with 116 RBI).

But on August 12, it all came to an end. Everything. We'll never know if Gwynn could have bumped his average up six points, or if Junior had another 22 home runs left in that elegant, left-handed swing, or if Belle was focused enough to wear baseball's most illustrious crown. We'll never know because on August 12, you stopped baseball. Somehow, you let the dollar sign flip the switch on America's game, turning the lights off during one of its most captivating seasons.

Worst of all, you even killed the World Series. Because of your differences, there was no world champion in 1994. There was no postseason. There was no World Series MVP and no rowdy on-field victory celebration. No champagne. No trophy presentation. No October baseball. Hell, there was barely any August baseball. 

A year without the World Series. That's almost like Santa Claus forgetting about Christmas one year, going straight from Thanksgiving to Valentine's Day without even a mention of Rudolph or a shot of eggnog. 

We shouldn't have forgiven you for that. You took our game away and we never should have forgiven you, but we did. Because it's baseball. It's our game, and although we were mad and we felt betrayed, Cal Ripken, Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire helped us move on.

And now it's 2001 and again we're enjoying a memorable baseball season. Only three years after McGwire and Sosa sprinted past Maris in the record books, Barry Bonds is closing in on 60 home runs with 70 beginning to flicker on his radar screen. Meanwhile, out of nowhere Sammy has started chasing Bonds, and still chugging along a few homers behind is Luis Gonzalez, chasing both of them. 

But if we're going to talk about history, let's take a look at two rookies, Albert Pujols and Ichiro Suzuki. In the history of the game, only once has a player won both the MVP and Rookie of the Year awards in the same season -- in 1975 when Boston's Fred Lynn hit .331 with 21 homers and 105 RBI while leading Boston to the American League title. This year, though, Pujols is hitting .318 with 30 homers, 98 RBI and 37 doubles while Ichiro is leading the AL with his .349 average and 200 hits, plus he's also thrown in 65 RBI, 40 steals and 107 runs scored for good measure. And because Pujols almost single-handedly kept the St. Louis offense afloat when J.D. Drew and Mark McGwire were both on the DL, and Ichiro has been the offensive ignition switch for the team with the best record in baseball, not only are they both the favorites to take home ROY honors this season, but their names also are in the MVP mix.

Speaking of Seattle, the Mariners could set a new record for regular season wins with relative ease while, in only a matter of months, Ichiro has become not only Seattle's favorite celebrity, but perhaps the most popular name in baseball today.

And in this offensive era, we've even had a few pitchers put together stellar performances this year, with Roger Clemens defying Father Time by starting the season 17-1, making him the first pitcher in MLB history to emerge victorious in 17 of his first 18 decisions. And in the National League, Curt Schilling and Randy Johnson have been giving teams back-to-back headaches all season, combining for a 36-12 record with a 2.69 ERA, and 546 strikeouts and only 91 walks in 418 innings pitched. In particular, Johnson has been masterful this year, recording double-digit strikeouts in 19 of his 28 starts -- not to mention 16 punch-outs in a relief appearance against the Padres on July 18.

Then, of course, we've got one hell of a pennant race going on right now, especially in the National League where teams like the Phillies and Cubs are actually fighting for a playoff spot. The Braves are tied atop the NL East standings at 71-60 with Philadelphia, Houston leads the Cubs by four games and the Cardinals by six in the Central, and the Diamondbacks hold a 3.5-game lead over the Giants and a 4.5-game advantage over the Dodgers in the West. The NL wild card is even tighter, with seven teams separated by 6.5 games and the Giants leading by only half a game over the Cubs. And while the Mariners have run away with the AL West, Boston trails the Yankees by only five games in the East and the A's by four games in the wild card race, while the Indians own a 5.5-game lead over the Twins in the Central. And these contenders all play each other several times over the final few weeks of the season.

So, you guys certainly have done your job this year. Baseball is as popular as ever thanks to some intriguing personal stories, a few record-chasers and some wonderful work by your schedule-makers. Every baseball fan in America -- and across the world, thanks to guys like Ichiro -- will be knee-deep in your product for the next two months. And that's how it should be.

But what happens after that? Should we even look forward to next year, or do we only assume there won't be a next year? That scenario would seem unlikely, but then again the cancellation of the 1994 World Series proved that anything is possible when you guys have to all meet in a boardroom and discuss salary caps, revenue-sharing and contraction.

But I'm holding out hope.

After so many fans migrated away from the game in 1994, swearing off baseball and its greedy owners and players for life, I can only hope you won't make the same mistake twice. True, the collective bargaining agreement doesn't expire until after this season is over, but your last work stoppage lived on for 232 painful days. The next one could be even longer, and it could literally kill America's love affair with Major League Baseball. That's no good for you or us.

So take a look at your game. Take a real close look. Watch as the Wrigley Field fans rise with anticipation at every Sammy Sosa swing. Marvel at how effortless some of baseball's "elderly" pitchers -- Clemens, Johnson, Schilling and Greg Maddux -- still make opposing hitters look foolish. Pay attention to that NL wild card race and the Mariners' run at 117 team wins. And then go into that boardroom and realize this game is about so much more than the dollar. 

It's about fans who treat Opening Day like a national holiday, who take the postseason as seriously as college exams and IRS audits. It's about fans who consider Fenway Park, Yankee Stadium and Wrigley Field places of worship.

It's about fans who forgave you once, but who may not be so understanding if you betray us again.

Thanks for your time, and good luck with your negotiations.

Sincerely,
A Fan


In the Bullz-Eye

Baltimore Ravens running back Terry Allen. When starter Jamal Lewis went down with a torn ACL this summer, Baltimore decided to sign Allen, a nine-year veteran, to handle the bulk of the running duties. Unfortunately for the Ravens and Allen, in his first preseason action the 33-year-old back ran for only eight yards on four carries against the Panthers, fumbling the ball once while also registering two receptions. His poor performance now reportedly has the Ravens once again thinking about signing Errict Rhett, recently released by the Browns, to take over the lead role in their backfield. He should have one more chance to prove his worth on August 31 against the Giants, but another weak outing would most likely leave Allen unemployed when the regular season kicks off September 9.

 
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