There is another more subtle distinction between baseball statistics and the statistics of other sports. It is likely the most important distinction, and it is the distinction that is most at risk from the impending steroid controversy. Beyond the fall of a few individual American heroes, it is the damage to this distinction that could very well ruin baseball's standing in American culture.
Statistical milestones in baseball, you see, are less about history and more about the future- about hope. It is the possibility of today's unknown player growing up into greatness and shattering milestones that have been held dear by traditionalists of the past. Its less about the story of Henry Aaron's 755 homeruns, and more the question of who will break it, and how that drama will play out. It's a mirror to the dreams of every fan. To be given an unhindered shot at greatness- the same chance everyone else before him had- and to succeed.
Fast-forward to 1995. Individual greed had overtaken the inherent equality in baseball, and the previous World Series was cancelled due to a players union strike. Something every fan held as a constant- that every October an undisputed champion is crowned, and the year's debates over good, better and best are settled- was taken away.
Commissioner Bud Selig, the league's 28 owners, and its players were tasked with damage control of historic proportions: to clear up this disastrous affront to the American sport, and bring fans back to the game.
Blame them for greed and mismanagement all you want, Bud Selig and his cohorts are not idiots. Short-sighted, maybe. But they were smart enough to realize that the only way rebirth any level of interest in baseball was through numbers. Baseball milestones, being a link between a 100-plus year past and the hope for future, knew no strikes. The dreams contained in simple baseball statistics could not be killed through a fleeting bout with greed. (Or so it was thought.)
Whatever happened next, no one will know. Was the baseball itself altered? Did players- who have always dabbled in body-altering substances- now realize the disciplinarians would turn the other way as they juiced themselves up? All we do know is that something happened. The numbers, unlike the players and management behind them, cannot lie.
It didn't take long before numbers began to explode. 50 homeruns in a season- a milestone that used to make front-page news- became commonplace. 100 RBI- previously the mark of a great individual season, was now the talk of the mid-season All-Star break.
In a period of mere months in 1998, 61 homeruns evolved from a dream, to a possibility to an obvious conclusion. A milestone that once marked the passing of generations, was broken by two men, and then again in three years.
Like the rush every person has secretly felt when doing something immoral or wrong for the first time, it felt great. Not right (and it was certainly questioned), but undeniably and universally great. And indeed it brought the fans back. It had to- 70 homeruns in 1998 was not just about 1998, it was about 1961 and 1919 and 1884.
