The Houston Astros name should now be fully synonymous with "playing dirty."
There's a multitude of reasons, endless evidence that what they represent is everything that's wrong with baseball.
While that's not a new opinion, it becomes truer over and over, with each incident of failure, followed by a failure in response to whatever they've done as an organization.
In the latest press conference with Astros owner and chairman, Jim Crane, he answered questions on a variety of topics, including what Bob Nightengale correctly calls, "one of the greatest cheating scandals in baseball history."
"People are aggravated the players didn't get suspended," Crane says, finishing his thought with a sort of non-answer. "Listen, it's always going to be whatever you want to call it." Yes,it is. But what does he call it?
He's non-committal later, throwing out statements colored with his own aggravation, such as, "We're sorry. We apologized," and "People wanted me out of baseball...the players suspended. They wanted everything."
Everything, as in accountability, and an ability to not posit themselves as victims, or underdogs, recovering from an unfair punishment. But many Astros players found that difficult to do including Houston's second baseman Jose Altuve, who, when asked if he feels remorese, told the media, "Yeah, kind of.", And, clearly, Astros leadership, Crane specifically, is with them in their stance. His thoughts on the scandal, and initial response in the press conference, can be read in full here.
Crane's positiion, in almost everything he's asked about, is that the Astros have been somehow wronged, everyone is asking for too much, and he feels badly only in an abstract, forced sense, because he has to, because he's being asked to feel badly. But he can barely stretch his empathy muscles when talking about people who were actually wronged. That's never more true, than when he's asked about former Assistant GM Brandon Taubman, and pitcher Roberto Osuna.
"Thank God we got Osuna," Taubman yelled, the night the team won the AL Championship Series.
But it wasn't just that he yelled it, it was at who it was directed, and the player he was celebrating.
Osuna had been arrested in Toronto, when still with the Blue Jays, and was charged with assault. The allegation was that he'd assaulted his girlfriend, Alejandra Roman Cota, the mother of his toddler son. As many victims of violence do, Roman Cota refused to testify. He agreed to a peace bond, which stated he couldn't contact the victim for one year. On June 22nd, after being placed on administrative leave, he received a 75-game suspension, without pay, for violating MLB's domestic violence policy, a policy that was a step in the right direction, but remains in need of tweaking.
The length of the suspension was the third-longest under the policy, but still not nearly enough for intimate violence. Jays manager John Gibbons tone in response to the suspension, is a master class that MLB seems all too eager to teach in "both sides-ism."
"Hopefully, it all gets worked out on both sides and everyone gets the help they need, and everything works out fine," he said at the time.
To clarify, "both sides" didn't need the same kind of help. The victim needed support, and to be centered in the story as the victim. The abuser, Osuna, was in need not just of punishment, but disciplined guidance from leadership around him. Like, say, his team's manager.
The trade from Toronto to Houston was, apparently, one the Astros took very seriously. Ultimately, they decided Osuna was worth it, and believed that he deserved the old second chance, that manages to be both without exact description, and unbelievably cruel to victims of violence. It treats the victim as if she doesn't exist. The Osuna narrative is nothing new.
When the Astros won the AL CS, the clubhouse was, of course, filled with cheer and noisy celebration. But Taubman was especially vocal, and loud. And had a direct target. There were women reporters in the clubhouse, and they were nearby, when he bellowed, "Thank God we got Osuna." Other reporters who were present confirmed the report that Sports Illustrated reporter Stephanie Apstein tweeted. One of the women he directed his glee towards was wearing a purple domestice-violence awareness bracelet. Taubman was later fired, but not before the Astros did everything wrong. They began by defending Taubman, which included questioning the credibility and honesty of Apstein. Their first statement kicked off with callilng the SI story "misleading and completely irresponsible." They finished by stating it was "an attempt to fabricate a story where one does not exist."
After that graceless, victim-blaming statement, the Astros were forced to confront the facts. Post-terminating Taubman, then team GM Jeff Luhnow said, "I wouldn't wish it on anyone in this room, just like I wouldn't wish it on anyone in this room to sit up here, and answer these questions either."
Do the Astros employ a violinist? They should. It's the natural accompaniment music to their response to these moments, when self-reflection and rightful responsibility utterly eludes them.
Luhnow was later fired, even after his "apology" to Apstein, whose career he could've ruined.
But wait! Crane has some news. Another career was ruined. And it's totally unfair, according to his wisdom.
"Brandon Taubman didn't commit domestic violence. He just made a comment. It's nothing you can defend," he said in the presser, as he literally defends Taubman. He then goes on to say, "He had a few cocktails. He was happy. There were people constantly coming at him over (Osuna), and he overreacted. Did he do the right thing? No. Everybody makes mistakes. But is he a good, genuine decent person and a smart kid? Absolutely."
This entire string of sentences is full of lies upon lies, upon absurd suggestions, and completely dismisses victims of domestic violence, the reporters Taubman taunted and renders the team's later apology a useless excercise, faithlessly concocted in order to calm the storm. All of it contains a grain of untruth. Brandon Taubman is in his thirties. Having a few cocktails doesn't make one a domestic abuser apologist and fan. He didn't JUST make a comment. He purposely directed that comment to women in the clubhouse, including one showing support for DV awareness.
There is also, however, an unrelenting truth included in these new statements from Crane. He is sorry for nothing. He doesn't think anyone who did anything he was asked about--not cheating the game and opponents, not taunting women about a domestic abuser, nor the the abuser--should be subjected to questions of their integrity. He doesn't think they should be fired, suspended or held responsible. His leadership is a void, a gaping hole with no bottom.
There is also a failure by many in the media to refuse any framing outside of the sympathetic one. While Bob Nightengale has built a long career, and has earned industry respect, he's one of a number of men reporters who exhibit disinterest in their reporting on these intersecting subjects, outside the "second chance" go-to framing. There's no pushing for more responsibility. There's always the centering of athletes as heroes, who've risen from the ashes of their self-made fires.
Jim Crane is the face of all that's wounded in the heart of Major League Baseball. There are others, sure. But he stands tall, shameless, righteous in his execution of pride and progress in America's pastime.
*alternations to the original image above were made by author
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