Internal Debate Rages

There's been a heated debate raging here at KCBS Sports Fans World Headquarters about Giants rookie Brandon Belt. Of course, the point may be moot by the time you read this, but the underlying issue is worth examining.

Simply put, my esteemed colleague Steve Bitker and I disagree about whether the Giants should send the young first baseman back to the minor leagues.

Steve has been banging the drum for a Belt demotion for several days now, citing the big kid's sub-.200 batting average (as I write, he's at .192). I've argued that it's too early to pull that lever, citing Belt's superlative defensive work and the patience he's shown at the plate.

With Cody Ross apparently ready to come off the disabled list, the Giants will need to make a roster move, and thus Belt's immediate future is up for discussion.

The temptation is to remind Steve and others who want Belt Fresno-bound that Willie Mays started his career 0-for-12. As legend has it, manager Leo Durocher stuck with the frustrated young centerfielder and the rest is history. Of course, it is wildly unfair to compare Brandon Belt--or anyone--to Willie Mays.

But. My argument--and that of San Francisco Chronicle columnist Bruce Jenkins--is that the conventional wisdom is wrong in this case. The standard thinking, to which my esteemed colleague subscribes, is that a player like Belt is better off playing every day in the minor leagues than either struggling or riding the pine in the majors.

Baseball is a game of subtleties, and its truths are not always revealed by statistics. I've seen every one of Belt's 2011 at-bats, and I saw plenty of him in the Cactus League, too. He has the sort of swing that makes veteran baseball people stop and watch, and defensively--same story. This guy will win a Gold Glove some day; bet on that.

Is Belt struggling at the plate? Absolutely. Is he overmatched? I'm not really seeing it. His patience and pitch selection are truly remarkable for a guy who was playing in college two years ago. His meteoric rise--Opening Day starter after one year in the minors--fuels Steve's argument that he could stand more minor-league seasoning. That's the conventional response when a young player struggles.

But ask yourself this: are the Giants a better team with Belt in Fresno and Darren Ford on the bench? Or are they better with Belt on the bench, Ford in Fresno, and Aubrey Huff at first base?

In the latter scenario, Belt's an occasional starter, a left-handed pinch-hitter and late-inning defensive replacement. Think of him as 2011's Travis Ishikawa (who is in Fresno precisely because Belt is in San Francisco).

And ask yourself whether you really believe Belt will become a better big-league hitter playing every day in Fresno, or watching the game from a major league dugout, surrounded by the wisdom of people like Shawon Dunston and Hensley Meulens and Bruce Bochy and Ron Wotus.

I don't think there's an easy answer when a young player stumbles. But I do think it's worth questioning the conventional wisdom sometimes, and this is one of them.

So Now What?

The jury has spoken, sort of.

Barry Bonds is guilty of delivering evasive answers to a federal grand jury. The jury deadlocked on the more substantive charges that he actually lied to the grand jury about whether he ever knowingly took performance-enhancing drugs.

For Bonds, despite his smile-and-wave on the courthouse steps, this is serious stuff. "Convicted felon" is a pretty heavy phrase to hang on your resume (although, frankly, it never held George Steinbrenner back all that much). But does anyone really think the verdict changed the big picture?

The big picture is this: Baseball was rife with steroids and other performance-enhancers for years. The lords of the sport either knew this, or maintained the sort of ignorance that strains credibility. Bonds, Clemens, McGwire, Sosa, Palmeiro, A-Rod, Manny...the list goes on. We're talking about some of the game's biggest stars, the men who made the turnstiles spin and the television cash pile up.

I've written and said enough over the years about whether it was appropriate for the feds to pursue this case against Bonds. That bell has rung. But let me pose this question: how do you think it would go if baseball owners, executives, and managers were hauled before the grand jury and asked what they knew about steroid use in their sport? How many more evasive answers and/or lies might the prosecutors hear?

Far be it from me to try to sell Barry Bonds as a sympathetic figure--a fall guy for baseball's sins. He's a hard guy to feel sorry for and few doubt that he did what prosecutors could never charge him with: bulk himself up with magic potions.

But the key thing to remember is that Bonds was not alone. In fact, plenty of people who followed his case believe he turned to chemistry after watching McGwire, Sosa and others turn baseball into a brand of pinball.

It's now called "The Steroid Era". Some of its leading practitioners are known. Many more are suspected. And sadly, there are undoubtedly players who never juiced but will forever be tarred with the brush of suspicion, for they have no way of proving they didn't. Baseball has strengthened its drug-testing policies; Manny Ramirez' sudden retirement the other day after another positive test is proof that at least some of the cheaters get caught.

How history will view all this is unknowable. Much attention is paid to the Hall of Fame vote as a sort of litmus test; Bonds and Clemens are a year away from being eligible. Both are statistical shoo-ins yet neither is a sure thing. But the Hall is only a single lens on the sport and the society that surrounds it. Whether Bonds has a plaque in Cooperstown or not, his story will be told for generations--if only as a cautionary tale. The verdict changes nothing; Bonds' die was cast long ago.

Baseball is alive and well. On the day the Bonds jury returned its verdict, more than 320,000 people voted with their wallets and went to a Major League game. Barry Bonds wasn't in the lineup anywhere.

Awesome, With An Asterisk

The Giants' "Opening Weekend" festivities are now a memory. Oh sure, it would have been nice to finish the three days of festivities with a sweep of the Cardinals, but two out of three ain't bad--and the vibe was pretty darned close to perfect all the way.

The Friday pennant ceremony (in photo), the Saturday ring-bestowing, the Sunday awarding of Buster Posey's Rookie of the Year honors, the "Torture, Part 2" wins on Friday and Saturday--all good.

But was I the only one troubled by the full-throated "Beat LA" chant that broke out just after a moment of silence for grievously-injured Giants fan Bryan Stow, who was savagely beaten in the Dodger Stadium parking lot? The Giants have handled this matter with great sensitivity from the start, but do fans who revel in the tribal rivalry with the Dodgers get that it's time to chill things down, not heat them up?

I've never met Bryan Stow, but everything you hear about the guy says he wouldn't want his senseless mauling by thugs to become the rallying point for any more violence. And let's not kid ourselves: this stuff starts with chants and name-calling before it spins out of control.

It's entirely possible that the criminals who tried to kill Bryan Stow were street-gang members who have adopted "Dodger blue" as their gang colors. Trust me: the kind of person who would wear a Dodgers hat as a gang uniform doesn't know Sandy Koufax from Shinola. This kind of guy isn't a baseball fan; he's a criminal opportunist. Chanting "Beat LA" to a guy like this is like tossing lit matches in a dry forest.

On the other hand, it's possible that Bryan Stow was victimized by the sort of over-the-top fan behavior that longtime Giants ballpark operations executive Jorge Costa says is getting worse. Costa told USA Today, "People are taking ownership of events in a different way...it's not the team won or lost, it's he won or lost." It's a sickness, really. Author Nick Hornby wrote about it in Fever Pitch (not the artificially-sweetened movie--read the book): people who get that deeply into a sports team need help.

San Francisco fans, historically, have little moral high ground to claim. In the Candlestick years, the leftfield seats were a war zone, especially when the Dodgers were in town. Violence was never far away. Things have improved since the team moved to a better home address, but that "Beat LA" chant on Opening Day told me that for many, the message still hasn't sunk in.

It's only a game, people. Try to enjoy it. It sure as hell shouldn't be a life-or-death matter.

Think about Bryan Stow, and smile at a Dodgers fan.

The Latest Can't-Miss Kid

The San Francisco Giants have done it again. Another year, another baby-faced phenom.

This time, it's 22-year-old first baseman Brandon Belt. Giants management waited until after the final exhibition game to make the announcement: Belt is the team's starting first baseman, shoving incumbent Aubrey Huff to right field.

It's a bittersweet moment: the annointing of Belt ends the Giants career of Travis Ishikawa, a Giants draftee whose defensive skills and pinch-hitting prowess made him a valuable piece of the World Championship team. But the truth is harsh: Belt appears to be Ishikawa's defensive equal, and the offensive upside is obvious. Ishikawa is a class act, and I hope the closing of this door opens another one for him.

In the glow of the World Series win and a spring that saw the Giants post the best exhibition record in baseball, it's easy to forget the harsh reality of the sport: moves don't always work out. Belt has exactly one year of professional baseball under his, uh, belt. His meteoric climb through three minor-league levels means exactly nothing to Ubaldo Jimenez, Clayton Kershaw, Mat Latos, and the other big-leaguers who'll be staring at him from 60 feet away.

The Giants have made the easy decision in giving Belt the first-base job. The harder decisions could come in a few weeks. What do they do if he struggles at the plate? How about when Cody Ross comes off the DL and is ready to return to the right-field job now slotted for Huff? Do the Giants bench Belt or ship him back to Triple-A Fresno?

For now, those are just nagging little thoughts. The thrill of a new season drowns them out. Belt becomes the latest "Kid" to join a Giants team already full of 20-something stars: Posey, Lincecum, Cain, J. Sanchez, Sandoval, Wilson. Remember: each and every one of these players was drafted and groomed by the Giants organization. Belt is in damned good company.

The Way It Ought To Be

Now THIS is March Madness.

All of the number 1 seeds sent packing. A championship game that will include either longshot Butler or longer-longshot VCU. A bracket contest that produced only two correct "Final Four" selections out of 5.9 million entries.

Oh sure, if you're a Kansas or Duke or Ohio State fan, you're having a hard time seeing the beauty.

But this is what college sports should be all about. Passion, exuberance, unpredictability.

In the past, I've advocated a truly radical plan for the NCAA tournament: put every team in the nation in the field and make it random. No seeds. Just shake up the barrel and pair the teams up and let them play. My argument has always been that it would make for a less-predictable and more exciting tournament than the annual coronation of one of the sport's traditional heavyweights.

Of course, my idea will never come to fruition. Most people say they want excitement, but what they really want is a semblance of order. They don't want the interlopers to shake things up too much.

Well, guess what? The party's been crashed this year. I'll never get my wide-open winner-take-all tournament, so I'm enjoying this March while I can.

Yet Another NHL Nightmare

The fact that Boston Bruins defenseman Zdeno Chara continues to suit up and play is an ongoing indictment of the National Hockey League's commitment to making a dangerous game safer. It's also a reminder that thuggery is alive and well in a sport that celebrates ritualized fisticuffs.

Chara ended the season (and perhaps the career) of Montreal's Max Pacioretty with a vicious late hit. Pacioretty suffered a severe concussion and a broken neck. If you must, you can see the play in the video clip here--but note that the clip is provided by a website called HockeyFights.com. Yes, you read that correctly.

Full disclosure: 33 years ago, I sustained an injury nearly identical to Pacioretty's: a non-displaced fracture of the C-4 vertebra. Let me tell you, when the doctor enters the room and says "fractured vertebra", your world gets shaken. I got mine by rolling a car off an embankment; Pacioretty got his by having his head slammed into the side of a hockey rink by an opponent who showed no regard for him.

But it's worse. Not only did Chara show no regard for Pacioretty's life and limb, the NHL doesn't much seem to care either. The league hasn't even suspended or fined Chara for the hit (he was ejected from the game in which it happened), but NHL brass is thumbing its nose at Air Canada.

What did Canada's airline do to get involved in this? Basically, it threw down the gloves, to steal a hockey concept. Air Canada told the NHL that if it didn't see the league move aggressively to make the sport safer, it would stop sponsoring hockey. Commissioner Gary Bettman's response, essentially, was "screw you, Air Canada" (read more in this excellent piece by CBS News legal analyst Andrew Cohen).

Look. It's been 7 years since Todd Bertuzzi assaulted Steve Moore, breaking his neck in one of the most vicious attacks ever seen on a North American field of play. Bertuzzi served a year's suspension and continues to make a fine living playing for the elite Detroit Red Wings. The message: you can try to kill a man on a hockey rink, but sooner or later, the game will welcome you back.

It was easy for many to demonize Bertuzzi. But what he did, and what Chara did the other day, are not isolated acts. The hockey culture promotes right-to-the-edge aggressiveness, rewards those who practice it, and fails to adequately punish the truly shocking incidents. In short: the NHL doesn't care about player safety. And judging by commissioner Bettman's willingness to blow off a responsible corporate partner like Air Canada, it may not care much about its own relevance either.

Jocks and Crime: So What?

CBS News and Sports Illustrated magazine are making a big splash out of what they're calling "an unprecedented six-month investigation" into the criminal records of football players on Top-25 college teams. Their big finding: 7% of the athletes had been charged with or cited for a crime.

Well, pardon me for not getting all hand-wringy about this. Let me explain why this is a classic case of making a mountain out of a statistical molehill:

• CBS News and SI use reports of arrests and citations--not convictions--to build their case. You don't have to be a criminal defense lawyer to recognize that not everyone who gets arrested or cited is actually guilty of anything. In fact, the report says more than 40% of the incidents uncovered by the investigation did not result in a conviction or fine.

• The news organizations say more than a third of the offenses were for drugs or alcohol. That covers a lot of ground. Do we really think a kid with an open-container citation in his past is a danger to decent society?

• Even if the 7% number shocks you (and it apparently does shock CBS News correspondent Armen Keteyian, who went on the air to describe the report as a "game changer"), is it really that big a deal? The adult US population (18+) is around 250 million. I've seen credible estimates saying anywhere from 45 million to 64 million Americans have a citation or arrest on their records. Using the lower number, that's still somewhere around 18% of the adult general population!

CBS News and SI trot out appropriately hair-raising stories of football players breaking bad--ugly stories of aggravated assault, armed robbery, weapons, reckless endangerment, resisting arrest and the like. But curiously, we don't read about any shoplifting arrests or drunk-in-public citations which one has to assume are part of the dossier.

Look: I'm not condoning bad behavior by anyone. But in case you haven't been paying attention, kids do screw up. CBS News and SI appear to be lobbying for colleges to conduct criminal background checks on athletic recruits (they take pains to point out that in Florida, for $24, you can get a criminal report on anyone--including many juvenile arrests). So then what? Should we tell a kid who got in a fight at the mall that he can't play college football?

By overplaying these statistics, the news organizations risk burying the real lead here. There remains a pervasive sense of entitlement among many athletes, aided and abetted by institutions which profit from their athletic exploits. Without question, colleges should take a firm stand against bad behavior by their jocks. Some already do: BYU may have just destroyed its shot at a national basketball championship by suspending forward Brandon Davies for violating the school honor code.

But who benefits if the institutions become unnecessarily punitive when assessing a recruit's background? How long should a youthful indiscretion remain a burden to a developing adult? Society has long agreed that, except in the most egregious and violent cases, juvenile crime is treated differently from the crimes of adults. A key component of that philosophy is the belief that young people can grow and change for the better. Let's hope this report is eventually seen for what it is: a bunch of numbers that don't really add up to much.