Baseball: Going, Going...

I love baseball. I have played and followed the game since I was old enough to pick up a ball. If I couldn’t find someone to play catch with, I would find a wall to throw my ball against. 

It wasn’t enough to watch and play the game, I had to know more about the man in the uniform. As a kid, I just knew there was a noble reason they played the game. Then, I grew up.

My baseball world was lead by the likes of Garvey, Lopes, Russell, and Cey. I was a passionate Yankees hater. I once met Gregg Nettles and wouldn’t take his autographed picture (I didn’t ask, he offered).

Baseball was a game played by men that loved the game. Sure they wanted to get paid, who doesn’t? But, there was a love for the game among the players of old that is almost impossible to find today.

There were a lot more good guys than players with problems, and the stadiums reeked of tradition and memories. Now they just reek.

Baseball today has become steroids, press boxes, and idiots.  

What I do care about is watching baseball continue to pay out millions upon millions to these steroid-using ungrateful idiots.

Here’s an idea, let Ramirez or any other player who acts like he's above the game sit out a year or two. Put a clause in the contracts of these guys that says if you get caught disgracing the game, you have to pay back a portion of your contract.

Let’s try for some accountability rather than reward these guys who quit on their team while under a fat contract.

What an awful  message for our young ball players; If  players use steroids than they should make sure they are untraceable, act like complete fools as often as they can, and, oh, by the way, play for themselves and forget about the team as long as each player feels he gets what's coming to him.

If players were rewarded for actually laying it all out and giving maximum effort as often as possible, baseball might just be fun to watch again.

Go to a minor league game this year and you will see how many of the players still perform like they love the game. Just hope you don’t have a major leaguer on rehab out there to screw it up. 

There are 162 games a year; how many of those games do the fans pay full price? Try this for a promotion: half price for half effort. 

If a player from the home team quits on a play everyone gets a rebate on their ticket. Forget Krispy Kreme's.

I manage a little league team, and for those of you who also manage a little league team, you know that kids now have an image of a pro player that is not flattering: Pros act like they should not run out a single unless they are a rookie, that they should not lay out for a ball, that the season is too long for that nonsense. I’ve heard all these things said by more than one major league ball player.

I see kids with pure talent, an instinct for the game, and a mental awareness that you wish all kids could have. It’s the passion and the love for the game that’s missing. I care more about baseball than most kids care about playing the game.

I know some of you will disagree with my premise that players just don 't care about the game like they used to and that the love for the game of baseball is lost.  Good for you, you are lucky.  I talk to coaches and managers all across the country and they are seeing this attitude prevail among the youth of today as pros examples and attitudes trickle down into the little leagues.

When I am talking to kids about baseball  a lot of them will tell me that they don’t watch baseball anymore because of the very things I am talking about, or, even worse, they try to emulate what they see because, somehow, they got the impression it’s expected of them.

Baseball has lost the fight to be declared our national pasttime. I see very talented baseball players every year quit baseball to play basketball, football, and  soccer.  

There is a passion for NASCAR now that you used to see for the game of baseball.

There isn’t much left to lose. I just wonder if, or when, the money runs out, how many players would we have left standing at the gate waiting to get in?

I’m David Dreyer, and that’s the way I see it