ATLANTA — If you issued truth serum to Rob Manfred, his first choice for the 2021 World Series surely would be Yankees-Dodgers, for reasons that require no explanation.
His second choice, probably? Any of the 29 teams, in any combination, besides the Braves.
Here at Truist Park, politics — for lack of effort to find a better word — dominates, and as the commissioner said Tuesday, “We always have tried to be apolitical.”
Yet here’s a public urging for Manfred to recognize the obvious: You can’t be apolitical, not in 2021, not in this bitterly divided country. If it’s too late to jump off the sidelines and fully declare Major League Baseball’s values by the time the Fall Classic concludes, then let this imperfect storm serve as an uncomfortable nudge for baseball to again embrace its role as, to borrow the phrasing favored by Manfred’s predecessor Bud Selig, a social institution.
“We’d like to keep our focus on the field, on the game,” Manfred said, voicing a sentiment as wishful as world peace and competitive New York teams in the NFL.
When the Braves upended the exhausted Dodgers in the National League Championship Series, they brought the World Series to this city for the first time since 1999, concurrently bearing two pieces of significant baggage:
1. Earlier this year, Manfred moved the All-Star Game from Atlanta to Denver to display MLB’s opposition to Georgia’s new voting laws. The irony of the sport’s next jewel event winding up in Atlanta months later has been lost on absolutely no one.
2. The tomahawk chop, which began in 1991 at the outset of those Braves’ dynastic(ish) era, will enjoy a national platform once more.
As he answered reporters’ questions prior to Game 1 at Minute Maid Park, Manfred gave off the vibe that he would rather answer 100 questions about the sport’s upcoming labor uncertainty than tackle these nuclear topics.
Regarding the moving of the All-Star Game vis-a-vis holding the World Series here, Manfred, after noting the league’s desire to be apolitical, added: “Obviously, there was a notable exception this year. I think our desire is to try to avoid another exception.”
I reject the premise. Had Manfred kept the Midsummer Classic in Atlanta, that, too would’ve been political, a tacit endorsement of the measures designed not only to suppress the minority vote, but also to disarm honorable Republicans like Georgia secretary of state Brad Raffensperger and his COO Gabriel Sterling who followed the rule of law last November. There likely would’ve been participant boycotts, starting with National League manager Dave Roberts of the Dodgers. It would have been a mess.
Those who question why Manfred would allow the World Series to be held here, when the laws haven’t changed since the All-Star Game, are being disingenuous. If you punch someone in the mouth to express your displeasure, does it make you a hypocrite if you stop there and don’t put the person in a coma? Manfred would’ve scored more points talking through the nuances of his stance, reiterating his opposition to Georgia’s legislation, than trying to wriggle free like a caught fish.
As for the absolutely ridiculous tomahawk chop, during which fans approximate a war chant to the accompaniment of music provided by the Braves, Manfred handed off responsibility to an area Native American tribe, the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians, that has supported it. Of course, this is not really a regional issue, as the World Series is televised outside of Atlanta and Houston (insert low ratings joke here), and most Native Americans have voiced opposition to this demeaning exercise.
What if Manfred simply voiced his displeasure with the chop and urged the Braves to not facilitate the exercise? If the fans initiate it on their own, a la the wave, it’s their deplorable choice. MLB and its teams should not be accessories, however.
The Braves’ NL pennant enables the club to honor their fallen great Hank Aaron, a salute that also occurred at the All-Star Game in Denver. That’s a good thing, an “off-the-field” matter Manfred will welcome. Alas, everything nowadays comes with a price. Manfred would put his league in a more noble place, one I (perhaps naively) believe to be financially advantageous in the big picture, by paying that price responsibly rather than running away from it.