Alomar should have opportunity to focus on baseball

As I sat in front of my television-thanks to the help of a friend's VCR-to watch the Baltimore Orioles take on the Cleveland Indians in the first round of the playoffs last week, I could not help but have conflicting emotions.

Like many Oriole fans who have watched the team struggle for the past 13 years, I was anxious to see Baltimore advance deep into the playoffs this fall and hopefully earn a shot at dethroning the defending world champion Atlanta Braves in the World Series. At the same time, though, I hoped that second-baseman Roberto Alomar would not play a significant role in whatever playoff success Baltimore might achieve.

In a crucial game in Toronto during the final weekend of the regular season, Alomar had spit in umpire John Hirschbeck's face after debating a questionable third strike, and he later made a gratuitous reference to Hirschbeck's deceased son in an effort to explain his disgusting and disrespectful actions. Despite Alomar's generally clean reputation and his subsequent and seemingly sincere apology, the five-game regular-season suspension which the league issued to the Baltimore second-baseman seemed like a mere slap on the wrist for such a serious offense against Hirschbeck and the game of baseball. In my mind, Alomar deserved to be suspended for at least part of the postseason, and if his hitting and fielding were the key to a Baltimore playoff run, I feared that the Orioles' accomplishments would be tainted because they would be sparked by someone who should not have even been allowed to take the field.

The first three games of the series progressed pretty much as I had hoped they would. The Orioles won the first two games in their home ballpark, and Alomar was virtually a non-factor. In the third game, Alomar was heavily booed and heckled by the fans at Jacobs Field in Cleveland, and he appeared unusually uncomfortable at the plate in a 9-4 Baltimore loss. It seemed that if the Orioles were going to hold on to win the series, they would have to do so despite the presence of Alomar. In fact, the Orioles were suddenly pinning their playoff hopes on the quiet heroics of their other middle infielder, non-stop shortstop Cal Ripken, whose hot hitting and spectacular fielding had been instrumental in the Orioles' first two wins and had been about the only Baltimore bright spot in the series' third game.

With all the hearings, court cases, threatened umpire strikes and talk of revitalized ill-will of fans towards baseball which overshadowed much of the first week of the playoffs, the name Roberto Alomar suddenly became synonymous with everything that is wrong with baseball. Had he been a character in a Nathaniel Hawthorne novel, Alomar would have been issued a red "S" (for Spitter) to wear on his chest. To many sports fans, the name Roberto Alomar probably took a one-word meaning: bad.

It seems ironic that the "anti-Alomar" has stood just a few feet away from baseball's newest villain throughout this entire ordeal. Lest we forget, just 13 months ago, Cal Ripken was baseball's savior, the universally-beloved iron man whose hard work and dedication made him an ideal role model and helped him establish a consecutive games record which will likely stand for all time. With his scintillating play in the first three games of the postseason, Ripken probably deserved a big red "S" to wear on his chest as well-this one would be accompanied by a red cape and would stand for Superman. With Mr. Good and Mr. Bad on the same team, perhaps the Orioles should have changed their name to the Baltimore Allegories.

On Saturday afternoon, though, something changed for the Orioles, and my perception of Alomar was also altered. Perhaps it was Hirschbeck's statement that morning forgiving Alomar for his actions, or perhaps it was the fact that five games had passed since the incident in Toronto had occurred, or perhaps my loyalty to the Orioles suddenly superceded my sense of justice, but on Saturday, I felt sorry for Roberto Alomar. The pained expression on his face made it clear that he certainly did not relish his role as baseball's villain and the animosity which had come to him as a result of it.

As wrong as Alomar's behavior had been, I wondered whether the fans' booing really made the situation any better; after all, as the old moral cliche says, two wrongs don't make a right. And as I watched the Orioles' hitters frustratedly flail away at Indians' pitcher Charles Nagy's deceptive split-fingered fastballs, I remembered games earlier in the season when the Orioles had a contact hitter-some guy named Alomar-who sparked rallies when Baltimore's big bats were being baffled. For the Orioles' sake and for Roberto Alomar's sake, I found myself hoping that he would have a chance to redeem himself.