Thanks Kenesaw

Following the Black Sox scandal in 1919, baseball turned to a man named Kenesaw Mountain Landis to right the ship. He was named after a mountain in Georgia and he, among other experiences as a federal judge, presided over convictions of Social leaders like Wisconsin Congressman Victor L. Berger. Landis took authoritative action in the baseball gambling fix of 1919, banning eight players involved in the scandal from being allowed to play professional baseball ever again. Landis surmised his mandate as succinctly:
"Regardless of the verdict of juries, no player who throws a ball game, no player who undertakes or promises to throw a ball game, no player who sits in confidence with a bunch of crooked players and does not promptly tell his club about it, will ever play professional baseball."

Commissioner Landis also officially banned 12 more players for their conduct off the field, almost single-handedly creating a list of Major League Baseball figures that have been banned for life and setting a harsh penalty as precedent for others considering fixing games for gamblers.

Somewhere along the way, MLB decided to post Rule 21 in every clubhouse, reminding players:
"Any player, umpire, or club or league official or employee, who shall bet any sum whatsoever upon any baseball game in connection with which the bettor has a duty to perform shall be declared permanently ineligible."

The letter of the law "any and all other acts, transactions, practices or conduct not to be in the best interests of Baseball are prohibited and shall be subject to such penalties, including permanent ineligibility," was enforced in 1983 when Hall of Fame players Willie Mays and Mickey Mantle were officially banned from baseball in response to them becoming celebrity greeters at casinos in Atlantic City.

And of course, the man with the most games played in the sport, at bats in the sport, the most hits in the sport, and the most singles in the sport, Pete Rose, was banned for a bad habit of betting on the game he loved more than most people ever could.

These strong measures - warning the players in their place of work daily, threatening offenders with removal from the sport, threatening them with lifelong lack of respect - seek to safeguard the game in the eye of the public. The public has a right to receive a fair game for their viewing interest, without any cause to doubt the efforts of the players.

So, when Detroit Tigers pitchers throw the fielded ball flying beyond the baseman awaiting the throw, there is never a moment of doubt that they were actually trying to make the play. When a Cardinal rightfielder drops two fairly easy fly balls, there is never a moment of doubt that he was trying to make the play. For all that we can thank the strength of Commissioner Landis and his swift judgment.

For the fact that the public questions whether the players making the plays are unnaturally aided by biochemical concoctions, we can thank "Commissioner" Selig. For the fact that the World Series champion won 83 games (2 more than a .500 record team could in the 162 game regular season), we can thank "Commissioner" Selig. For the fact that the 2006 Opening Day payrolls of the bottom three teams in the league added together was less than the World Series Cardinals, we can thank "Commissioner" Selig (and the last place team spent less on payroll, scouting and player development than revenue sharing alone). And for the fact that millions of children fell asleep not being able to see who won the World Series, we can thank "Commissioner" Selig.

But it is the day after the World Series and a time to celebrate. My joy will be the realization that the sport outlived the threat of gambling influences and that to this day there is no doubt cast whenever an error is made in a pivotal moment. I look forward to a future when the other problems in the game are dealt with as strongly.