Testing positive

Via David Pinto comes this appalling report.

Sanctimony is thought to enhance sportswriting in two distinct ways – first, through heavy reliance on exaggerations, broad generalizations and misleading anecdotes, the sportswriter is able to divert attention away from what he is saying to how voraciously he is saying it; second, it allows the reporter or columnist in question to abdicate their prior ignorance and inability to operate a discerning eye before-the-fact through the sheer vehemence of his current opposition and dismay.

“It’s really quite simple,” says Dr. K. Phillip Stevenson, noted sportswriting expert and professor emeritus at the Columbia School of Journalism. “Most sportswriters make their livings on naysaying and pessimism – ’subject X is what’s wrong with sport Y, and I don’t like it.’ The problem here, as is this case with the current uprising over steroids, is that everyone already knows that subject is a problem – that’s why it’s illegal, banned, and tested for. Sanctimony serves as a communicative crutch to allow the writer to sidestep the more important question of how the problem came to be in the first place and instead capture the reader’s attention through cheap tricks of fear mongering and holier than though attitudes. It takes articles that would be standard pop-up fodder and pushes them over the outfield walls of our consciousness, and it brings those who penned the pieces much more attention and accolade than they rightfully deserve.”

The positive results came after a surprise sweep of newspaper offices last night, where writing samples were unexpectedly collected from every working sportswriter at the Top 20 newspapers in America. Initial reports indicate there was an overwhelming abundance of such words and phrases as “disgrace,” “crime,” “shame,” “national embarrassment,” and “What about the children? Won’t somebody please think of the children!?” Very little was found in terms of evidence, cautious reasoning, grounded arguments or even minimal traces of personal culpability, all of which are thought to counteract the dangerous effects of Sanctimony.

Meanwhile, Charles Pierce figures Manny's put an end to the "Steroids Era."

That said, I thought the hype ladled onto Manny's return was excessive, even by ESPN's elephantine standards for excess. (I mean, honestly, breaking into ESPNews for every minor league at-bat? What if there had been a sudden fantasy-baseball emergency somewhere?) That's Bonds treatment. Or A-Rod. I always thought Manny Ramirez was a notch below them as a subject for hyperpituitary voyeurism. However, it was of a piece with Manny's greatest gift as a professional athlete—his innate ability to make everything about baseball that is self-reverentially loathsome look ridiculous. In the great, hushed temple that baseball is perennially building for itself in its own mind, it's Manny's who provides the dribble glasses, the whoopee cushions, and the exploding cigars. It is his holy mission to take the living piss out of the self-important, the moralistic, and the people who cling to baseball in order to defend their inherent right to be 13 years old for the rest of their lives. So, there he was, an Albuquerque Isotope, selling out the ballpark and, by all accounts, happy as a clam.