John Miller, head coach of the Brussels Kangaroos and a reporter for a major American newspaper, is chronicling his team’s 2008 season in a column that will appear every Monday on mister-baseball.com. It is the first of several Mister-Baseball Blogs this year.
On Saturday, we ran into another classic stumbling block: the random drug test. As America shouts and swears about Barry Bonds and a legion of bopping bashers, Belgium deals with, well, marijuana.
You’d think sports leagues would be nonplussed by their players smoking pot, which clearly, does not make you a better ballplayer. But contrary to rumors, smoking pot is illegal here, and included on the federation’s list of banned substances. A positive test can earn you a suspension ranging from three months to two years.
For some reason, baseball players are huge pot smokers. In 2003, a 17-year-old catcher was nailed, and suspended for three months. Our coach at the time was a 50-year-old American college veteran. The catcher’s first practice back, the coach walks over to chat with the catcher. I listen in, anticipating a moralizing lecture. “Don’t worry, I’ve smoked pot my whole life,” he says. In Belgium, baseball — embarrassingly for a sport trying to grow up — usually tops the charts among all sports in proven users.
A generation of talented ballplayers in this country has crashed and burned on the altar of the green stuff. To be sure, there has been the odd ‘roid clown and coke head, but overall, we seemed to be married to marijuana. It’s less a reflection of character — smoking pot doesn’t make you a bad person — than a stupid lapse of judgment within a minority sport that already has a hard time retaining good people.
Here’s how the testing works. The league picks a game. A federation doctor shows up. Under his supervision, each coach randomly selects five (it used to be three) players for testing. At the end of the game, those guys pee into a cup. The urine goes to a lab. A few weeks later, each player receives a letter informing him of the verdict, and possible suspension.
The federation doesn’t always pick the best, most competitive game. A few years ago, I was playing in a second division men’s softball game in Wanze, a small town in the south of Belgium. We were having a grand old time against the home team Cardinals, quaffing, in the great tradition of unserious softball, a fair number of beers between innings and at-bats.
Mister drug tester shows up. He asked our coach to pull two from a stack of Cardinals IDs. Among them were two blue US passports. The other club’s two American import baseball players were ringing it in the softball game. That year, the Cardinals were our main rival. The Kangaroo coach, in a fit of competitive reason, picked the little blue books. The Cardinals appealed on procedural grounds. They won.
I’ve been tested once, in 2006. I had just caught a game in 30C (86F) heat. I had no water in me. “I can’t do it,” I told the doctor. He puzzled the question over. “Well, why not drink some beer?” he said. “That’s the best way, you know.” Alcohol is not banned. And so it was over to the club bar for Kriek cherry beers. I’m pretty sure I drank four, interspersed with about 12 glasses of water.
An hour later, I was racehorsing it into a cup. Then I drove home, a fact that seemed not to worry the doctor at all. (I tested negative.)
Our (losing again, 6-5) roster Saturday included 14 players. Of those, four were somewhat reckless teenagers who, odds are, succumb regularly. Totally randomly, I managed to pick all four. The baseball gods work in mysterious ways.
They will get their letters in a few weeks.
You high on opinions about drug testing? I indulge all thoughts at oldworldpastime@gmail.com
Previous Columns:
Playing and Coaching in Europe
My Country, Delayed by Rain
Wanted: Pitcher-Shortstop-Catcher With Homerun Power
Wanna play catch?
Can I see your license?
All Success is not equal
Baseball in the (very early) morning
Who do the Angels root for?