Air Is Unhealthful for People Who Are Sports Sensitive

This is going to be a big summer for record-breaking in sports, and that can only mean two things:

--Big bucks and big headlines for the record-breakers.

--The end of life on Earth as we know it.

I’m like Earl Weaver, former manager of the Baltimore Orioles. A few years ago, Weaver was asked to explain a sudden rash of home runs in the Orioles’ home park, and he said: “How should I know? I’m not a meteorologist or gynecologist or anything.”

I can’t explain what’s going on now, either. I am a humble observer of sports and atmospheric phenomena, not a scientist. But I can see evidence that our gravitational field is dangerously out of whack.

Look at track and field. Before the first snowfall, man will pole vault 20 feet, high jump 8 feet and long jump 29-3. These feats are not humanly possible.

In recent weeks, Sergei Bubka vaulted 19-9, Patrik Sjoberg high jumped 7-11 and three people in one meet long jumped 28 feet.

The javelin throw was getting so wild in recent years that world track authorities had to redesign the javelin, to cut down its flight capabilities. We were approaching the point where a track meet play-by-play announcer would say: “Big Bill gets off a tremendous javelin throw. It’s really up there. It’s sailing beyond the infield, over the running track, into the jam-packed grandstands! There’s a souvenir for some lucky fan!”

Basketball is ridiculous. Charles Barkley, who according to all natural laws should need a forklift to get out of bed, soars and dunks as if he were Dr. J. Michael Jordan, a normal looking man, has the hang time of a booming punt.

Spud Webb, at 5 feet 7 inches, wins a dunk contest by throwing himself a bounce pass and sky-jamming it behind his head. Tyrone Bogues, a 5-3 termite, dunks a volleyball and gets drafted in the first round.

The dunk was once a thrilling rarity. Now everyone in basketball dunks except Chick Hearn. Wind resistance is mysteriously disappearing. In football, quarterbacks throw the ball 80 yards and kickers kick it 70 yards. Golfer Laura Davies has hit drives approaching 300 yards. Michael Andretti just set an Indy car 500-mile speed record.

But it’s baseball where the gravity--or non-gravity--of the situation is most apparent. The sport is in a state of near-panic.

A rookie is chasing Roger Maris’ home run record. Mark McGwire is likely to hit 65 or 70 homers this year. And once he learns the strike zone, McGwire is going to be a real dangerous hitter.

Home run output is up 20% over last year in the big leagues. Hitters are hitting homers with checked swings and hit-and-run strokes. Pencil-necked shortstops are blasting home runs like Mickey Mantle. Mickey Mantle is blasting home runs.

Pitchers, an unstable breed anyway, are not handling the situation well. Their usual tricks are not working. Curveballs, instead of curving, come to the plate hanging like sides of beef. Bert Blyleven, said to own the most wicked curve in baseball, is giving up homers at a record pace.

Pitchers are frantic. They are urging umpires to confiscate the bats of opposing hitters and ship them--the bats, not the batters--to labs to be examined for cork. Pitchers are smuggling tools to the mound to gouge and disfigure the balls, trying for movement. In the resulting crackdown on ball abuse, innocent bystanders such as Joe Niekro are thrown into baseball’s slammer.

All the while, we ignore the forest while examining the trees. It’s not the record books that are being rewritten, fans, but the physics books. The sky isn’t falling, it’s rising, taking baseballs and golf balls and javelins and humans with it.

Isn’t this something we should look into? I don’t have any answers, just theories.

Maybe it’s the ozone layer that’s shot, and what’s finally catching up with us is the cumulative tonnage of aerosol hair spray used by TV sportscasters.

Maybe some other planet is stealing our gravity to offset the alarming increase in the number of zorgs being hit in the sport of gleegball.

Something’s got to be done before we all come unstuck and start floating around like balloons in the Macy’s parade, or before Buddy Biancalana breaks Maris’ record.

I phoned the physics department at Caltech and they promised to get their top scientists on the case next week. This week, they’re busy competing in an intramural slam-dunk contest.