He tells of a Women’s Division II softball matchup between Western Oregon and Central Washington. Sara Tucholsky hit a line drive over the fence for her first career home run at any level of play. However, the story doesn’t end there. After all, Div II Western Oregon Softball doesn’t make the front page of the Times Sports Section unless something else happened. Vescey explains it best:

Never in her 21 years had Tucholsky propelled a ball over a fence, so she did not have her home run trot in order, gazing in awe, missing first base. When she turned back to touch the bag, her right knee buckled, and she went down, crying and crawling back to first base.

Pam Knox, the Western Oregon coach, made sure no teammates touched Tucholsky, which would have automatically made her unable to advance. The umpires ruled that if Tucholsky could not make it around the bases, two runs would score but she would be credited with only a single. (”She’ll kill me if I take it away from her,” Knox thought.)

Then Mallory Holtman, the powerful first baseman for Central Washington, said words that brought a chill to everybody who heard them:

“Excuse me, would it be O.K. if we carried her around and she touched each bag?”

The umpires huddled and said it would be legal, so Holtman and the Central Washington shortstop, Liz Wallace, lifted Tucholsky, hands crossed under her, and carried her to second base, and gently lowered her so she could touch the base. Then Holtman and Wallace started to giggle, and so did Tucholsky, through her tears, and the three of them continued this odd procession to third base and home to a standing ovation.

Two thoughts came to mind in the form of visuals. First, it was Tom Hank’s Famous line in “A League of Their Own“. However the next thought was a rather shocking one to me, given the nature of what happened on that softball field…. “Who cares?”

It makes for a nice, warm fuzzy story suitable for a great afterschool special, or a class room video on teamwork. But I’ve grown up in a sports area that’s been dominated by competition at any costs. From Spygate to Balco, from Chopblocking to Tonya Harding, people are cheating all around. And why? Money. Sports is money. Big Money. And everyone’s out to get it.

As a casual fan, I find myself conditioned to think that way too. I’m paying my hard earned money to watch athletes compete at the highest level, not hold hands and sing “kumbaya”. I’m not trying to take away from the class and grace that the athletes on the both sides of the contest in Ellenburg showed. But I’m here to see sports. If I want to see sportsmanship, I’ll fork over 4 bucks and go rent “Rudy”.

Vecsey mentions it in his article but do you think Kirk Gibson would have been helped off the field after he stabbed all of the East Bay in the heart with his limp-off Homer in 1988? I think not.

Scouting is big business and nowhere on the stat sheet is Sportsmanship quantified. Play Virtual GM for a sec. Would you rather take the 7′3″ musclebound center with the feathery J? Or would you rather have the guy that helps opponents off the floor when there’s a collision? I’ll take the former, thanks.

Is there a place for sportsmanship? Yes, of course. Guys like Vescey, Rick Riley, and Frank DeFord have made careers out of covering the “humanity” in sports. But at the cost of quality competition? Definitely not.

Having grown up around the NY sports scene over the last 25 years, we’ve been spoiled. The Bronx gave us that dominant Yankee’s run in the late 90’s – early 2000’s. To pass time between the triumphant summers under the placid leadership of Joe Torre, we were able to fill the colder months of the year with the glory of the The Riley and JVG Lunchpail Knicks. It wasn’t always pretty, but the boys in Blue and Orange kept us on top of the standings. No one in NY will ever be able to forget the Rangers finally winning in 1994. I still get chills when I hear Howie Rose’s famous call from Game 7 of the Eastern Conference finals.” “Matteau Matteau Matteau… And the Rangers have one more hill to climb baby!!” Even the Parcells’ led Jets made it to an AFC Championship and were 30 min away from taking Gang Green to Superbowl XXXIII in Miami. It was truly the best of times for this Yanks/Knicks/Jets/Rangers Fan.

Then gravity took hold. Dolan bought the Knicks and gave control of the team over to NY’s own version of George W Bush. He put all of Knick Nation in a collective sleeper hold by giving the keys to the Garden to a man who just finished driving a successful Basketball league into the ground. As if sinking the Knicks was not enough, Dolan also managed to sink the Rangers into a banal level of mediocrity usually reserved for teams with payrolls 1/3 their size. If Daddy Dolan ever decided to spin off his MSG holdings, the stock chart would look something like this.

George Steinbrenner came back from his forced exile, stopped letting people who know baseball run the team and started doing his best Peter Angelos impersonation trying to build a good fantasy team rather than a solid lineup card. The Yankees became the land where overrated, overpriced, over the hill players went to die. Yes, they kept winning, but it was getting boring. And some upstart team always seemed to capture the magic and win it all this year leading to another frenzied off season to find the next overrated former superstar to pay $20MM a year

Conditions have hit bedrock this winter. The Knicks are the undisputed laughingstock of the league. The star player just walks away from the team, only to come back to start 3 games later, much to the chagrin of the rest of the “team”. Isiah Thomas might be up for an Emmy for best comedic performance when he went in front of the cameras to say that, “Eddy Curry is still the cornerstone for this Franchise”. Wow. Just…. Wow. Meanwhile, after first being forced to watch the douchebags from Boston trample to another Series victory, now we are forced to see these assholes donning their Red Sox hats all over the streets of Manhattan. And we can’t do anything about it. They are even selling Red Sox hats with that vile “B” on the front at local sporting good stores. At one time that would have been met with the same indignation as hitting on women at a “Take Back the Night” Rally. (Trust me, it’s been done).

Let’s not even start on the Superbowl. The Patriots are on their way to a perfect season, being led by a coach who left us at the altar less than a decade ago. Who are they playing? Only the team whose name adorns the Stadium my beloved Jets play in on Sundays.  This Superbowl cuts hard. Now, here I sit trying to avoid the Mediabowl highlights for the big game this Sunday. But it’s hard to avoid. If I have to see another shot of Strahan’s face (Queue up Dr Dre’s famous line from “Dre Day”) or Marsha Brady’s nauseating smile all over the airwaves I am going to die. So here I am, wasting away time writing all you loyal fans of DeepSlant Nation hoping you understand this NY Sports fan’s pain. As I continue to long for the days of yester year…

Holler if you hear me.