Its not the cheating that matters. The Astros scandal cuts deeper than that. – Houston Chronicle

Its not the cheating that matters. For as long as theres been baseball, ballplayers have stolen signs, doctored balls, and cut corners, anything to give them a little edge over the other guys. Its tattooed into the game. In 1948, Cleveland Indians owner Bill Veeck gave a Tribe employee a pair of binoculars and an Army surplus walkie-talkie, and stationed him inside the Municipal Stadium centerfield scoreboard, where he picked up the opposing teams pitching signs and radioed them to the Cleveland dugout. Eight years earlier, the Detroit Tigers used a slightly less sophisticated system, employing the scope from a hunting rifle and a series of hand gestures in their chicanery. The 1948 Indians won the World Series. Today, Bill Veeck is beloved as an innovator, a master showman, and a lovable scamp. The 1940 Tigers also won the Series, and no less an authority than star first baseman Hank Greenberg, a Hall of Famer, credits cheating. In 1989s Hank Greenberg: The Story of My Life, the slugger tells ghostwriter Ira Berkow, I think it was picking up those signs that were instrumental in enabling us to win that 1940 pennant sign stealing is a fascinating aspect of the game.

Ballplayers cheat. Astros ballplayers cheat. They always have. In the 80s, former Astros knuckleballer Joe Niekro, then with the Minnesota Twins, was infamously caught on the pitchers mound with an emery board in his back pocket. Emery boards are used to illegally mar the ball surface, enabling a pitcher to alter pitch trajectories in maddening and unexpected ways. Mike Scott led the 1986 Astros to a National League West title with equal parts skill, scuffing, and judicious dollops of KY-Jelly, the 1980s ball-doctoring foreign substance of choice. Billy Hatcher, one of the heroes of that 86 club, earned a 10-game suspension in 1987, when his bat cracked during a game against the Cubs, revealing that the barrel had been illegally hollowed out and filled with cork. Several former Astros have been accused of using steroids and other performance-enhancing illegal substances.

Its not the cheating. This latest disaster, this new heartbreak, goes far deeper than that. Yes, the Astros stole signs, like the 48 Indians and the 40 Tigers and probably every other club thats ever won a championship in baseball history. The Astros cheating was institutionalized. It was organized, and cynical and, as far as anybody can tell, countenanced at the highest levels of the organization. This wasnt a guy with binoculars and a walkie-talkie. This was sophisticated surveillance equipment, camera and wires and monitors and transmitters installed in a massive, massively expensive stadium. Lots of people were involved. Lots of people knew about it. This is Lance Armstrong level conspiracy, with Armstrong-like dissembling to cover it. What the 2017 Astros stolen Series reminds us is that we cant trust anybody, least of all our sports heroes.

The Astros were Houstons post-Harvey rainbow, a sign from the Baseball Gods that after the despair of having half of the city underwater, there was a reason to hope, a reason to keep going. The Stros were our guys. They were Houstonians, in the very best sense, young and strong and confident, the embodiment of the diversity that Houstonians constantly brag about. Yuli Gurriel is a Cuban immigrant. Jose Altuve comes from Venezuela. Alex Bregman is a white kid who played his college ball at LSU, and who taught himself Spanish so that he could help his Latino teammates feel welcome. George Springer hits the Houstonian Diversity Trifecta: His mom is Puerto Rican, his dad is Panamanian, of African heritage, and he grew up in Connecticut. Theyd already attracted our attention before Harvey. After Harvey, they held us together. And when they won the Series, we stood among our piles of waterlogged carpeting and sodden sheetrock and we screamed and we cried and we felt a whole lot better about what had been a really rotten year. All of that is gone now. The whole thing was a lie. And those 2017 memories seem as rotten and reeking as those mountains of flood-ruined belongings we hauled out of our homes.

Everything feels dirty. Astros owner Jim Cranes press conference, announcing the firings of manager A.J. Hinch and general manager Jeff Luhnow, seemed disingenuous and contrived. There was a Nixonian mistakes were made vibe, and the firings, while deserved, felt a little phony, a tattered fig leaf vainly covering the entire clubs shame. Even in Cranes firing of Luhnow and Hinch there was no suggestion that they masterminded this conspiracy. The players were behind it, and some video tech guys, and maybe a coach or two. But the World Series victory isnt tainted, not at all. Everybody in the dugout (except Hinch, of course) was in on the cheat, but by golly, we earned that title!

Lives and reputations are ruined. In 2017, Carlos Beltran was the beloved graybeard of the Astros roster, a future Hall of Famer whose decades of experience were an inspiration to a very young ballclub. In postgame interviews, he took on the appearance of one of those Olmec stone heads, looking both impossibly intimidating and endlessly wise. It turns out that Beltran was one of the chief architects of the cheat. He will go to his grave not as one of the greatest players of his generation, but as the guy who helped the Astros steal a title. Luhnow and Hinch may never again work in organized baseball. Guys like Yuli, Bregman, and Springer will be dogged by doubts for the rest of their careers.

Its already started with Jose Altuve. Long before 2017, Altuve was on his way to being the greatest second baseman in Astros history. His batting numbers for the first six years of his career dwarf the numbers put up by Craig Biggio, who ended up in the Hall of Fame. Altuve was a legend, long before the Stros started stealing signs.

This morning on The Dan Patrick Show, a listener from Los Angeles called in to complain about the Astros. He mentioned, Whats-his-name, that little guy who plays second base, and said, I guess now we know hes just a cheater. Jose Altuve doesnt need stolen signs to be a great hitter, but for many fans, Altuve is just a cheater. The greatest moment in Houston sporting history, the greatest team in Astros history, is as ruined as a flood-ravaged house. We will never trust those memories, never feel completely comfortable with those memories, ever again.

On Dec. 5, 1985, I asked a Houston girl to marry me. Improbably, she agreed. On Dec. 6, I walked into a sporting goods store at the University Mall in Orem, Utah, and bought my first Astros ballcap. From now on, Im an Astros fan, I told my roommates. For 34 years I have loved this club and hated this club and rooted for this club and been driven half out of my mind by this club. Ive felt let down by the Stros, but never betrayed by them.

Until now. And feeling that betrayal, I dont know that I can ever be an Astros fan again.

McMurray is a Houston businessman and a frequent contributor to Gray Matters.

Note: A correction was made to this article at 3 p.m. Jan. 17. Joe Niekro was caught with an emery board while playing for the Twins not the Astros.

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Its not the cheating that matters. The Astros scandal cuts deeper than that. - Houston Chronicle