If you're a professional athlete, in the afterglow of a victory in The Big Game, who do you thank?

Who do you thank for the unbelievable fame and fortune that is likely to come your way?

A degree of fame and fortune more substantial than you ever thought possible?

Well, you start by thanking your family--your mother, usually.

Maybe you thank your father, too.

And your spouse, when appropriate.

Then you thank your teammates, your current coach or manager, and the team's ownership group.

Maybe you thank your agent...your favorite dietary supplement...or perhaps even your college coach.

So there's a long list of people to thank.

If you win, that is.

In fact, in the glare of TV lights, cameras, and microphones, the victorious professional athlete doesn't just thank human beings.

He almost always thanks his God, too.

When you're feeling good, it just seems right...to thank the Lord.

After all, somebody at "the next level" needs to be thanked.

It only seems right: when you are feeling great, give thanks to God.

And so goes it in the world of the winners.

But for every winner there's a loser.

And the losers face many of same TV lights, cameras, and microphones.

But the losers have no one to thank.

And you've never heard the loser of The Big Game thank the Lord, have you?

But that's easy to explain, because losers don't give thanks.

Losers explain, they make excuses, and sometimes they place blame.

Losers need a scapegoat.

And for sure, you never heard anybody blame God for their poor performance, now, have you?

Which brings us to Ron Gant, and Gant's recent indirect assertion that Tony La Russa is a racist.

Now, I'm not foolish enough to suggest that there is no racism anywhere in professional sports, much less MLB.

And Tony La Russa has had well-publicized disagreements with Ozzie Smith and Royce Clayton, just to name two black ballplayers who've worn the Cardinal uniform.

But La Russa didn't exactly cotton to white Cardinals such as Andy Van Slyke, John Mabry, or Jeff Brantley, either.

And the triangle gets weird quickly, because former Cardinals catcher Tom Pagnozzi didn't see eye-to-eye with La Russa or Smith.

So the evidence of La Russa's racism, from this corner, does not meet the burden of proof.

Let's put it another way--we shouldn't rush to judgment on this matter.

But back to Ron Gant...who had a cushy job in a cushy media town at $5 M per for the past three seasons...all the while protected by his manager...

[Click here to listen to La Russa describe Gant's over-all ability and skill level...and click here to listen to Gant summarize his own '98 season and his outlook on the '99 campaign (both recorded September 22, 1998).]

Fast forward to spring training, 1999.

All of a sudden, Ron Gant is on stage in a new town, with new media...

And asked a bunch of questions, by a group of media many times pushier than the St. Louis crowd, that indirectly get to the heart of the reason that Gant is now in Clearwater, FL (with the Phillies), and not in Jupiter (with the Cardinals).

Namely, that he (Gant) had sub-par 1997 and 1998 seasons.

So how did Ron Gant, in part, deflect attention from his meager performance, a loser's performance, during the last two years?

What were his explanations? What were his excuses?

And where did he place blame? Who or what was his scapegoat?

Evidently there was no mirror handy.

All of a sudden things are clearing up quite nicely, thank you.

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A reporter's post-script:

The Gant-La Russa brouhaha serves as a reminder that the issue of race, in any big-league clubhouse, is ready and waiting to be utilized by anyone that chooses to utilize it.

Adding new meaning to the pronouncement (I forgot who said it) that "If you want to understand America and Americans, first you have to understand baseball".

In a baseball setting, this reporter was never more uncomfortable than at a August 1996 post-game Cardinals clubhouse gathering during which Ozzie Smith, who prior to that evening's game had refused his turn in the batting cage (presumably as his way to register his lack of approval for the La Russa-mandated one start per series edict), made light of certain facial features of a black Cardinal outfielder.

Smith's words, if uttered by a white man, were, as they say down south, "Fightin' Words".

At the time, it was clear that the Wizard was going over the top...that something was bothering him...and that he needed an outlet.

The younger player, who is still with the Cardinals, seemed to recognize that his leader, the leader of the African-American contingent of Cardinals, was fighting some demons, and responded in kind with a racially-tinged comment of his own...one that pertained to Smith's own facial features.

But the player then said to Smith: "C'mon Ozzie...you know you shouldn't talk like that...not in front of him."

It's always there.