It’s a shame, but I just don’t believe in David Ortiz’s 2016 stats.
He has 24 home runs, batting .326, with a .665 slugging percentage, half-way through the season. He is 40 years old, 6′ 3″, 230 pounds.
Do you really think it’s possible? Here:
Williams had one of the best final seasons in MLB history. He hit .316 with a .451 on-base percentage and .645 slugging percentage, with 72 RBIs to go along with those 29 home runs.
What magical thing is he doing that nobody in the history of baseball, or athletics,– except Barry Bonds, who cheated, of course– has ever done? Have a near career-best year at the age of 40, when almost everyone declines steadily from 28 on? The real shame of it is that if he really is as amazing as his numbers appear to be, people like me will never have the opportunity to really appreciate it. It would be awesome to behold, if we could really believe in it.
It’s the same with the Olympics: in those really, really annoying CBC radio ads, the announcer goes crazy– “a new!! world!!! record!!! in the 200 meters!!!” Who cares? We know exactly why there have been so many new world records in the last few decades. Why are you all excited? Are you stupid or what?
Ortiz’s defensiveness in full flower.
It is striking to me how often, in his statements on the issue, he angrily insists not that he would never cheat, but that he has never been caught. They test me all the time and I have never been caught. Why would you think I cheat when I have never been caught? Surely you don’t think I could get away with it nowadays? And that one time I was caught, it was an accident.
There is not a trace of sadness, which I would expect, from an honest athlete who realizes that he can never entirely escape suspicion about his greatest accomplishments because other players have been caught– indisputably– cheating. This is the paradox of modern sports. Have a mediocre performance and you’re mediocre. Have an extraordinary performance and you must have cheated. Give a really, really amazing performance, and obviously, you cheated.
He also takes on those who accuse him of showboating and egotism– which is, essentially, what people mean by the criticism of batters who admire their home runs– by arguing that he’s having fun, he used to be poor, now he’s rich, so what’s wrong with having fun– which has nothing to do with the issue. I don’t care how many people do it– even if they are on my home team– I find it repellent when players admire their own home runs. It’s like laughing at your own joke, or watching yourself in the mirror at a party to see how good you look, or arranging for yourself to receive honors and tributes as a politician, or making your predecessor a saint. You’re not that great. Really, you’re not. It’s unfortunate that we live in a culture that can’t help but wet themselves over every little athletic achievement, but that doesn’t change the fact that, really, you’re not all that great.
There are handful of players who are great and have great performances. Their achievements are diminished when assholes like you start strutting around the base paths as if you are godlike.
Ortiz’s stats for his 40th year are really, really amazing. And they are unbelievable. And I am the saddest about the fact that if they were real, I have missed out on the pleasure of watching a truly extraordinary performance.
[whohit]Ortiz’s Magical Year[/whohit]