The Larry Baer incident and leave of absence remind us that Giants fans can never just stick to sports

FILE - In this Monday, Oct. 5, 2015 file photo, San Francisco Giants president and CEO Larry Baer speaks to reporters after a news conference in San Francisco. A video posted by TMZ on Friday, March 1, 2019 shows Giants President and CEO Larry Baer in a physical altercation with his wife in a San Francisco park. Baer's wife, Pam, was seated in a chair when he reached over her to grab for a cellphone in her right hand and she toppled sideways in the chair screaming "Oh my God!" and kicking a leg. Witnesses saw the ordeal in the public plaza. (AP Photo/Jeff Chiu, File)
By Grant Brisbee
Mar 4, 2019

There was a time, in a previous life for a different website, when I was convinced that politics and sports didn’t have to mix. I moderated my website based on this belief, deleting any comments that seemed overtly political. It made sense at the time. Some people will argue — strenuously — that this policy still makes sense. Some of them will likely be in the comments under this article. The concept of “stick to sports” has been around since sports were invented.

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The stick-to-sports mindset is a way of hiding in an underground bunker while the nuclear fallout of politics and real life ruins everything above you. The catch is that not everyone has access to those bunkers. It’s incredibly easy for me to forget where I stand in the American social hierarchy; it’s impossible for a person of color to do the same. So when the principal owner of the San Francisco Giants is spending money to support a controversial Mississippi Senator, the bunker is open to me. There’s coffee in there and I can turn up the music as loud as I like. It drowns out the mean, old world and allows me to remain oblivious. It’s not available to everyone, though.

By being in the bunker, I’m engaging in a political activity. Not explicitly, but by dusting my hands off and going away to write Steve Scarsone limericks, I’m essentially saying, “Here, you clean this mess up.” The “you” in that sentence references anyone who has no choice but to face reality, even when it’s withering and unpleasant and affects their ability to enjoy what they do in their spare time.

This brings up Giants CEO Larry Baer, who was caught on video late last week ripping a phone away from his wife with enough force to send her to the ground. While I’m always in favor of waiting until there’s more information, there’s plenty of information already in.

If I had watched my father do that to my mother, I would never be able to forget it.

If I had ripped a phone away from my wife, my hope is that her reaction would have been more of a surprised and angry, “What in the absolute hell are you doing?” instead of a quick, fierce and panicked scream.

And while I’ve been involved in nasty, regrettable verbal arguments with my wife, none of them have taken place in public, which makes me wonder about the kind of anger it takes for a public figure to either forget that everybody in the world has a camera in their pocket or to just not care.

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These three points rattle around in my head for a little bit, and then they go away. That’s when I start thinking about, I don’t know, Travis Bergen or something. This is the luxury I have.

But for Giants fans who did see their dads do that, or for people who can remember plenty of quick, fierce and panicked screams from their past, they don’t have that same luxury. Bunker’s closed. Instead, they’ll have to grapple with what this means when it comes to their Giants fandom. They’ll have to know that the odds are strong that they’ll be watching a Giants game on television, see a shot of some seats next to the home dugout and unexpectedly have to face all of those memories.

This isn’t just about Johnson’s donations or Baer’s actions, either. This is about Pablo Sandoval being accused of sexual assault. This is about Barry Bonds being accused of domestic abuse. (Neither Sandoval nor Bonds were ever charged in those cases.) This is about watching a group of human beings play sports on behalf of other human beings and being forced to reckon with all of the ugliness that can come with human beings.

If you’re lucky enough watch from the bunker, where none of this affects you, the answer is simple: just ignore it all. This is sports. We’re all just watching a bunch of kids play stickball, you know, so don’t take it too seriously.

And if the reactions become so strong that they penetrate the bunker, you might even get mad. “Who cares?” is a regular response in these situations. All you want is to watch your sports in peace, and everyone is out here making you think about stuff. Why can’t they just go out, buy several tons of concrete and some land, excavate an appropriate amount of earth and spend several years constructing the same bunker?

It’s so easy when you put it like that.

There is no sticking to sports. It would be fantastic if it was possible, but there are only two options:

  • Engaging with the real-world dilemmas that sports like to drop in our laps.
  • Demanding that everybody have access to bunkers of their own if they want to follow sports.

Seems like the second one is a little bit unfair and exclusive, right? So for those of us who are lucky enough to have access, our job is to poke our heads out every so often and realize that it isn’t so easy for everyone else to stick to sports. That when the CEO of your favorite baseball team is caught on video acting like that, that every second he remains with the organization can affect the enjoyment of a fellow fan who had until recently been whistling along without a care in the world, just like the rest of us.

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That doesn’t mean you have to take up arms with anyone who fits that description. Just consider them for a moment. Consider how it can affect the feelings and enjoyment of others. Consider it in the larger context of an organization that’s responsible for Until There’s A Cure Day and all sorts of charitable endeavors, and consider it in the context of an organization that invites Barry Bonds back to retire his number. Consider it in the context of a fan base that packed the ballpark for that ceremony. It all counts.

Just consider it. That’s all. Consider it and listen to the people most affected by the video, the people who can’t seal the door behind them. Make up your own mind after that, but poke your head out and see what’s going on first.

There is no sticking to sports. By pretending to stick to sports, you’re sticking to the politics of comfort, which is most certainly not sports. The CEO of the San Francisco Giants was caught on video acting in a repugnant manner — and on Monday took a personal leave from the team — and it’s going to bother a whole lot of people whenever he’s associated with the team in the future. Your personal enjoyment may vary, but realize that it’s not going to be the same for everyone.

There are people — lots of them — who won’t be able to shake this off so easily. Listening to them seems like the least you can do.

(File photo by Jeff Chiu/AP)

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Grant Brisbee

Grant Brisbee is a staff writer for The Athletic, covering the San Francisco Giants. Grant has written about the Giants since 2003 and covered Major League Baseball for SB Nation from 2011 to 2019. He is a two-time recipient of the SABR Analytics Research Award. Follow Grant on Twitter @GrantBrisbee