The Bowdoin Orient

If I were to list the people I’ve never met who have contributed the most joy to my life, David Ortiz would be at the top. His postseason heroics embody the magical unpredictability of sports, and he is largely the reason for my unconditional and irrational love for the Boston Red Sox. I read Dan Shaughnessy’s Curse of the Bambino before the 2004 season, and after the Yankees took a 3-0 series lead in the 2004 ALCS, my 11-year-old self seriously questioned his depressing loyalty to the Sox. Then Ortiz, Big Papi, lifted the Sox with walk-off hits in Game 4 and 5. He swatted the Curse of the Bambino out of Fenway, and set the Sox on the path to their first World Series in 86 years. 

Nine years later in the 2013 ALCS, Ortiz revived a sluggish Sox offense with an eighth inning grand-slam into the bullpen, famously depicted in a photo of bullpen cop Steve Horgan cheering and Torii Hunter doing a faceplant over the wall. Mr. Clutch once again brought happiness to Boston with one powerful, magical swing of his bat.

And yet, questions about the source of his power will always overshadow the magic in Big Papi’s career. As much as I want to believe that my childhood hero is innocent, David Ortiz cheated, failing a drug test in 2003. He adamantly maintains that he was misled regarding the legality of the over-the-counter drugs that he took. 

In a recent article for The Player’s Tribune, Derek Jeter’s website that features first-person stories by athletes, Ortiz asserts with gusto, “I’m no bullshitter. I never knowingly took any steroids.” Sorry Papi, but I’m calling BS on that one. 

Ortiz asserts that his success comes solely from his meticulous preparation, “the hours and hours and hours of work.” I’m not buying the argument that someone so dedicated to self-improvement could be blissfully unaware of the supplements that he put into his body. If Manny Ramirez, the goofiest space cadet ever to play in a Red Sox uniform, knew that he was taking steroids (as he has since admitted), it’s hard to believe Ortiz’ plea of ignorance.

Ortiz wrote the article to defend his case for the Hall of Fame. On this subject, he is on far more solid ground. On the basis of performance alone, Ortiz is a first- or second-ballot Hall of Famer. He will break the 500 home run barrier sometime in the next two seasons. He is the best designated hitter of all time and one of the best postseason hitters ever, with a clutch gene that helped turn the Red Sox franchise from a lovable loser to a postseason powerhouse. 

And after a brief slump in 2009, the 39-year-old has staved off the typical decline of aging power hitters, with his 35 homers ranking sixth in the majors last season. Given the extensive testing that players undergo in the post-steroid era, it is fair to presume that Ortiz has continued his success cleanly. He hasn’t failed a test since that one in 2003.

Steroid allegations have kept a number of Hall of Fame worthy players out of Cooperstown. Objectively speaking, even unlikeable cheaters like Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens deserve a spot in the Hall based on their pre-steroid exploits. And yet, they are remembered for artificially extending their careers with illegal drugs at the height of the steroid era. 

Guys like Mark McGwire and Rafael Palmeiro, who would have made the Hall 20 years ago because they broke 500 home run barrier, may never make it because their careers became defined by steroid use.

Ortiz’s career narrative is different. While steroids may have helped revive his fledgling career in 2003, he continued his success deep into the post-steroid era. Objectively, he should be in, as should Clemens and Bonds. But unlike Clemens and Bonds, he has a chance to win over the subjective votes of the writers. By the time he reaches Hall of Fame eligibility six or seven years from now, baseball writers will be less jaded by the confusing and disheartening era of constant steroid allegations.

But to ensure that he wins the hearts and minds of the writers, Ortiz should keep his mouth shut and stop making an unconvincing case for his innocence. He should put the allegations behind him and let his game speak for itself. Antagonizing skeptical writers like the Boston Globe’s Dan Shaughnessy, whom Ortiz affectionately refers to in his article as “the reporter with the red jheri curl,” won’t help his case. 

Unfortunately, the same swagger that has made Ortiz great on the field carries over into his off-the-field comments. He may have won the fans over years ago, but he still needs to win over the Cooperstown moral police, the Baseball Writers Association of America.