Baseball's Seven Deadly Sins
Major League Pride, Greed, Envy, Wrath, Sloth, Lust and Gluttony
Feb 2, 2009
The Seven Deadly Sins, also known as the Seven Cardinal Vices, have infected the great game of baseball. Held out as the National Pastime, the game is starting to look a lot like the famous Brad Pitt-Morgan Freeman film about the seven mortal misdeeds that lead to the downfall of man.
Pride. Six Century Catholic priests taught that Pride was the worst of the seven deadly sins. They also claimed that it was the ultimate cause of the other six. Baseball has seen plenty of pride throughout the years. For instance, several players on the 1919 Chicago White Sox expressed to reporters that team owner Charlie Comiskey had insulted their pride by making them among the lowest paid players in baseball despite their success on the field. In an effort to regain that pride -- among other things -- eight players rebelled against Comiskey by colluding with gamblers to throw the 1919 World Series. They later paid heavily for their pride.
Greed. Greed is running rampant through our national pastime. Player greed has led to the $20 million per year player. Franchise greed results in multi-billion dollar deals with the awful Fox Network. And Network greed leads to annoying in-game pop-up adds, interminable commercial breaks, and the incessant, infuriating commercial loop of John Mellencamp's "This is Our Country."
Wrath. Check out those old tapes of Billy Martin or Earl Weaver fighting with the umpires. Look into the eyes of a Boston Red Sox fan when Roger Clemens was pitching for the Yankees in Fenway Park in 1999. Take a quick gander at Milton Bradley on any day of the week. There is indeed a lot of wrath in baseball. Wanna know why? Because ballplayers don't have any other way to express their feeling on the field. After all, there's No Crying in Baseball.
Lust. Has ever a sport been so beset by sex scandals and lurid relationships? First we had Babe Ruth doing the mattress monkey with just about every girl in the Ziegfield Follies. Then we had Joe DiMaggio marrying Marilyn Monroe, only to discover that she enjoyed the company of Hollywood moguls and Washington power brokers more than a spaghetti meal at home with hubby. Wade Boggs had Margo Adams. Barry Bonds had Kimberly Bell. A-Rod had the Mysterious Blonde Woman and the Material Girl. The list goes on and on and on.
Gluttony. Have you seen Prince Fielder? Do you remember his father, Cecil? Or how about Tony Gwynn? That guy was once a skinny rookie. Now Tony can't even fit into screen view when he's providing commentary on games. These guys are clearly living on Turducken, Funyuns and Chili's Babyback Ribs. Then there's John Kruk, the blubbery retired first baseman who once aptly noted: "I ain't an athlete, lady. I'm a baseball player."
And have you seen the fans lately? Note to America: You can't go straight from the Sonic Drive-Thru to Bull's Barbecue pit every single day without expecting to someday resemble Robert Earl Hughes. Have an apple for God's sake!
Sloth. If the man weren't one of the ten greatest hitters of all time, one might be tempted to accuse Manny Ramirez of sloth. But his greatness obviously exceeds concepts such as hard work, dedication and a peppy chipper attitude.
Envy. This is going to be the death knell of the game. Envy. It was envy that made Red Sox fans so hateful of the Yankees for all those years. Now it's envy that inspires articles like 10 Reasons to Hate Red Sox Fans.
With all of this sinning going on, when do these guys have time for the games?
