It was a sunny Labour Day afternoon, the end of a news ombud’s year-long sabbatical of fun and frolic. The monthly GO pass was ready for next morning’s commute.
So why not catch a few innings of the Blue Jays and Yanks on the tube? Maybe the Jays could hang on to a three-run lead. I settled in to watch.
The Jays’ bullpen quickly threw the game away. But as the Yanks batted in the ninth, ahead by two runs, all eyes turned to Yankee catcher Jorge Posada.
When umpire Andrew Fletcher (rightly) called him out on strikes, Posada exploded. He turned to the ump, spittle flying, and bumped him. Hard as the spectacle was on the eyes, it was harder on the ears.
For Posada was barking into the ubiquitous parabolic mikes that bring the grunting sounds of pro sport into our homes, wanted or not.
He gave the umpire what for, spraying mouthfuls of verbal venom in Fletcher’s face, along with the spit.
(Remember, news ombuds who sometimes get splattered in confrontations between readers and editors tend to identify with umpires. The roles can be strikingly similar.)
Actually, Posada dosed the ump with a particular vulgarity, repeating it several times as if for emphasis.
Moments later, the tiresome (to some, offensive) line was heard again several times, thanks to the instant replays TV sports producers find hard to resist, regardless of content.
The bad word (Posada’s whole vocabulary?) came through loud and clear. Some 23 years ago, comedian George Carlin had called it one of the “heavy seven” you can’t say on TV.
In an unforgettable swipe at censorship, he said the word is important. “It’s the beginning of life, and yet it’s a word we use to hurt one another, quite often . . . people much wiser than I have said, `I’d rather have my son watch a film with two people making love than two people trying to kill each other.’ ”
Somehow, the ump kept his cool, dispatching the truculent Posada to the lockers for an early shower, if not to wash his mouth out with soap.
The next day’s papers sketched the incident in bland terms, thank goodness. The Star reported that Posada was ejected “for arguing balls and strikes.” True enough. The New York Times noted the catcher “swore repeatedly” at the umpire. It’s hardly encouraging that TV often airs the gutter language of athletes, leaving print scribes to search for bromide substitutes. Maybe TV sports fans no longer care how blue the air gets.
But clearly, much has changed since Carlin was excoriated for using, on a New York radio station, the seven dirty words that “infect your soul, curve your spine and keep the country from winning the war.”
Methinks newspaper editors need to avoid being dragged into the gutter by TV, while still giving readers a taste of reality, however grim.
If the Prime Minister were to mimic an out-of-control pro athlete in public, I’d print every word (and letter). Elected politicians are accountable for public performances.
But gratuitous use of vulgarities undermines a paper’s tone, diverting attention from stuff that matters. Recently, a freelancer in The Star began a sentence with the s-word as an interjection. TV baseball watchers aren’t easily shocked, but that day this one was.
Applause, please. It would be remiss for me not to say thanks to former ombudsman Robin Harvey. Robin kept the lights of accountability shining while I enjoyed the holiday of a lifetime. The same goes for assistant Joan Vander Doelen and her predecessor, Elvira Cordileone, for their good work. Watch for Robin in an exciting new role at The Star.
