The Deadliest Sin: Gambling or Steroids?

"In gambling, the many must lose so that the few may win." -George Bernard Shaw

I once asked a tech support guy in the Apple Store what the over/under line was on how long it would take to fix my ibook charger, and if I could arrange a payment plan based on the money line. There's more money on my Foxwoods Casino card than there is in my checking account. And I may or may not have put point spreads on Connect Four games. (It can be done.)

So understand my stance on gambling generally leans towards the liberal side--because while my unorthodox blackjack methods may make me Public Enemy #1 at the table, I know no one's betting on ME. I can afford to live like an idiot, and I don't mean financially speaking. My teasers and parlays affect no one but a rich bookie and my bank statement. But while I can leisurely vacation in The Land of Gratuitous Risks and Gambles- athletes, coaches, and managers should be denied a visa here.

Admittedly, when I first heard of the whole Lenny Dykstra steroid/gambling drama, my first thought was, "They have a slow week pegging the pros so they have to resort to investigating happily retired players?" Does it really matter if he used steroids or not more than a decade ago? That's like pitching a fit at your high school reunion about how the homecoming queen ballots were fixed.

From the looks of things, it seems Lenny is going to get off relatively unscathed. Although should the investigation reveal he has in fact gambled on his team, he will be banned from the game. "Nails" may be nailed, a la Charlie Hustle style.

And for once, I'm taking sides with The Establishment.

It's been said that Dykstra is very reminiscent of Pete Rose, in ways that extend beyond casino controversies. Both players possessed a fierce drive and determination that was electric if you were lucky enough to witness it--this charismatic immersion into the game that made it seem like they just wanted to engulf the very dirt they were playing on. I know all about Pete's unparalleled hitting achievements. I know that Lenny Dykstra was the first man in major league history to lead his league in at-bats, hits, runs, and walks.

But that doesn't change the fact that I think gambling in sports is more deadly a sin than taking performance enhancing supplements.

There. I said it. Let the dropkicking ensue.

The way I see it, using steroids is like taking a test on "The Canterbury Tales" after having read only the Cliffs Notes. If you suffered through all the labor of actually reading that minion of Satan, you could feasibly come close to the same result. But the Cliffs Notes give you an intense, concentrated version of the book--it's the "juice" of literature. You're essentially amplifying and catalyzing your understanding and learning curve.

But gambling? That's like breaking into the English Department to find out what the exam questions are a week early. The playing field can't be close to leveled because you're operating on knowledge that no one else can possibly be privy to. And subsequently, it changes how you yourself prepare for the test.

I know, I know. The whole Pete Rose Debate is more hackneyed than Jeter's diving catch into the stands. Blame Dykstra for trotting out this one-two punch of steroids AND gambling. The best of both evils. And if we're talking about immorality in baseball, I'd be remiss in not calling out Pete Rose, who stole the English exam, got expelled, and then campaigned to be valedictorian.

When Pete Rose was placing bets on his own team, he had the luxury to rearrange the line-up, to dictate the stolen bases, the bunts, the pitching rotation. He was changing the face of the game to his own advantage, while the MLB and the oblivious fan continued paying his debts.

The bottom line: the fans and the MLB are coughing up the paychecks. Coaches and athletes are therefore as much governed by the game as a corporate executive is by his clients. When Dykstra was suspended for his heavy involvement in high-stakes poker, he affected the framework and dynamic of the rest of the '91 Phillies club. If I spent all night playing beer pong and then rolled up to a client meeting hungover and reaking of stale alcohol, I'd get an unpleasant talk with HR behind closed doors. Because while I can do what I want on my own time, as soon as it spills into what I get paid for, the hand that feeds me is going to pull rank.

Dykstra may want to someday eat out of the MLB's hand again. Maybe eventually he'll have a hankering to coach for the Phillies, but he should absolutely be denied this position in the same ardent fashion Pete Rose couldn't get by the bouncer at the Hall of Fame.

It's been alleged that Dykstra tipped off a bookie on certain 1993 Philly games, but this is ultimately irrelevant. For the record, it's dubious he could have accurately called each of the 11 games he supposedly predicted. Close to $100,000 in gambling debt is monument enough to skewed priorities. Dykstra may have been a severely sharp force on the field, but his gambling problems pale this to a certain degree. I'm not comfortable hanging my hat on someone who doesn't unequivocally live and breathe baseball.

Sure, there have been other ballplayers who have subscribed to questionable extracurricular activities. The Babe, the 1960's Yankees, Ty Cobb, the '86 Mets. None of them were exactly guys I'd take home to my meet my parents, but as far as I know, their habits never compromised the integrity of rivalry and competition. They weren't dipping their pen in the company ink. They didn't elevate themselves to a completely different stratosphere by adding another level of consequence to the game. (And by "elevate themselves," I'm speaking metaphorically. The '86 Mets don't count.)

I am, of course, operating on a very abridged, hypothetical, one-dimensioned perception of the gambling culture in baseball. There are undoubtedly countless cases I'm either not referencing, or that we're not even aware of. Be that as it may, it's like when Martha Stewart was indicted. Millions of CEOs do exactly what she did. But she got caught. And neither the Sensei of Flower Arrangements nor the number-crunching corporate weasels are any less guilty. And being Charlie Dust Ruffle couldn't and shouldn't exempt her from breaking the rules.

There will always be some X-factor that taints a player's stats, whether it's possible steroid use, diluted pitching in an expansion team year, or stadium perimeters. And there will always be an X-factor clouding a player's good name, whether it's a penchant for prostitutes, a surly demeanor, or a gambling problem. But what there will never be is a clearly defined line denoting what the sport can tolerate.

Is gambling in it of itself unforgivable? I hope not, since if that were the case, I'd be earmarked for early acceptance to the University of Hell's Burning Fires. But then again, I'm not the commissioner of any fantasy Connect Four leagues.

Should Pete Rose be in the Hall of Fame? Negative. Should Lenny come back to coach? No. Because if nothing else, gambling proved that it was more than a habit for him: it was a detriment to his game. Will baseball ever be the idealized pastime it once was? I wouldn't bet on it. Maybe it never even was.

Lenny Dykstra might have run the gamut of sports taboos, but the greater crime the game must fend off is its spotty gambling culture. Baseball's greats aren't all Ned Flanders, but the price of admission to the Hall of Fame shouldn't be paid with house money.