Out of Wright Field: Saint Straw the Human

If there be a true way that leads to the Everlasting Kingdom, it is most certainly that of suffering, patiently endured. — St. Colette

The Early Years: Straw signs autographs for young fans at Spring Training

As much as I resist the pull of dogmatic control over my life, I have never quite been able to remove my fascination with the order of Saints. Perhaps it comes from a wonder about how a single person can become so revered as to be placed above the normal realm of humanity, exalted to that amorphous status lingering between the levels of man, angel and God. On the other hand, maybe I’m just working through some guilt about tossing aside a religion I was brought up in. Either way, the saints and their meanings and stories have always held a great deal of meaning for me. I read about the classical saints; study their artwork and symbology.

In spite of this, I can only read so many stories about people fighting the Romans before you begin to drift. I mean, things aren’t so hot right now with the religious unrest, unchecked power and economic woes of the day. There are genocides taking place in the Sudan and a cruel genocidal junta governing Burma (currently known as Myanmar. Educate yourself, seriously. Not to put a damper on the sports focus but this is a bad news situation. Worse than you could imagine and nobody will talk about it. Just try and find a mention in Clinton’s most recent Asian expedition. OK, I’ll stop preaching and return you to your regularly scheduled programming.) What I’m getting at is that we need a few Saints now. We could use a miracle here and there, someone with God on their side in such a way that allows the world to change through their making.

What we need is a new crop of holy men that can give us something to grasp at, straws or not. Even sports are in a bad place. NFL players are lost at sea, congress is grilling MLB players about steroids and the NHL is still on Versus. I propose a modern patron saint of New York sports, and in my opinion, the man for the job is none other than Darryl Strawberry, Saint Straw. Darryl is a part of this city and his roots go to not only the two current NY teams, but he is one of three players to play for all four historically New York Teams. He’s been a blessing and a curse, managing to bring heat upon himself and glory to his team, hitting the ball and the crack pipe only to rise again from the ashes again and again.

I remember fondly as a kid going to the stadium and becoming incredibly exited every time you heard the low din of “Daaaarrrrryyyyllll…” rise from the crowd like steam. I remember the way that I would lean forward in my seat to try and catch a glimpse of him at the plate, the guy that they feared and that my brother and I loved. I cheered him when he was up and defended him when he was down. Darryl’s problems were personal and he has shown honor in dealing with them honestly and openly. The guy deserves credit as the New York sports media sometimes acts like they are watching players in an operating theatre as opposed to a ball field. Darryl held his head high and admitted his actions; he made the ultimate sacrifice for a star of his caliber: he showed an unreasonable amount of humanity.

St. Sebastian comes to mind, tied to his post with the arrows protruding from his chest. The story goes that Sebastian was condemned to death by arrow firing squad when Diocletian discovered that he was in fact a secret Christian running around converting prisoners and healing mutes. I can’t say that Darryl has ever been in danger of being thrown to the lions for his religion, but he hasn’t fared much better by simply having human vices and failings. So, Sebastian was tied to a post and filled with arrows, only to be dragged away and found to be alive in spite of the fact that he looked like a “pincushion.” He should be dead but he isn’t and so here we have the man, full of holes only to go on and heal a blind woman for accepting his prayers. He is eventually found dead, but with his body intact and laid to rest.

Straw lived through it all, survived and inspired more even when he was down for the count with the whole crack-cocaine thing. He kept playing, survived cancer, being caught with a prostitute and cocaine, and still we have people that want to learn form him. If he isn’t a saint I don’t know what is. The problem is that the church requires a miracle or two to be canonized. Straw, my man of course does not disappoint. He’s brought us the miracle of the honest baseball player.

With the archers now angling toward A-Rod and notching their arrows there has been a voice from the wilderness (yeah, I know, I’m mixing up my biblical allusions…) Straw actually confronted the whole thing honestly and framed it in a new way. He pointed out that if steroids had been available he most certainly would have used them. Shock ensued, people thought the comments were inappropriate and there was blather through the blogosphere. However, let’s look at this rationally: the snake in his proverbial garden got him to SMOKE CRACK. I can’t see performance enhancing drugs being a tough sell after a drug that decimated an entire decade. He even went on to say that the whole thing stinks of a set-up being that Rodriguez was one name leaked from anonymous test done years ago. I hate to back up the legal technicality argument, but, a promise is a promise and I can’t see a reason for his anonymous test to come out while all the others remain tightly under wraps. All or none says Saint Straw, may he without sin throw the first inside pitch.

Darryl is not a perfect person, and this is why I love him. He’s a real guy, someone with issues and problems but also a ball player of immense talent, and a man of honesty and general integrity regarding his faults. He has been put before the show trials of public opinion, falling prey to the anti-drug crusaders that worry about what kind of role model he is. If you ask me, he’s the best kind, just an honest man with honest problems trying to live his life. He has faults and moments of greatness both of which are part of being a human, not a star. Perhaps when we realize these athletes are human, we won’t have to worry about their ascension to the Platonic ideal. Instead we can worry about how they deal with what comes before them and how they act int eh face of adversity. To close with a statement that I think Saint Straw would agree with I’ll quote St. Francis de Sales:

Those who commit these types of scandals are guilty of the spiritual equivalent of murder, but I’m, here among you to prevent something far worse for you. While those who give scandal are guilty of the spiritual equivalent of murder, those who take scandal- who allow scandals to destroy faith- are guilty of spiritual suicide

Tags: A-Rod, baseball, Darryl Strawberry, Joe Wright, MLB, NY Mets