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The Paralysis of Psychoanalysis

We're deep into the baseball playoffs, and all fans know what that means. Sports journalism pages Dr. Freud, Dr. Adler, and Dr. Jung, then winds up channeling Dr. Howard, Dr. Fine and Dr. Howard.

This will be subject to change depending on who wins the NLCS but most commentators currently are wrestling Alex Rodriguez, Derek Jeter, and Joe Torre to the couch. The inner turmoil of these three Yankees are the reason New York was bounced from the playoffs by the Tigers. Had they been in better mental health, Jared Wright would not have remained a lousy pitcher.

The fatal belief that players' souls determine ballgames rather than their arms, bats, and gloves afflicts even the most talented writers. Allen Barra, who was my colleague in the Village Voice sports section in the summer of 1987, is as talented and creative a sportswriter as there is. Last week, Barra published a howler in the Wall Street Journal speculating that Torre's calm, no waves persona was responsible for the Yanks inability to hold a lead in its losing playoff series from 2001 on.

Funny. I always thought that problem stemmed from the fact New York's third, fourth, and fifth starters this century have been aged, injured, unreliable, or some combination of the three. There's no way known to medical science that Torre's personality caused David Wells' back problem in the 2003 World Series.

A-Rod was indeed a mess at the plate against Detroit. Was that because of a lack of comradely love and support from Jeter? Or was it because Rodriguez had an enormous amount of trouble with low pitches dipping beneath the strike zone all year long? There is a reason why more teams have hitting coaches than shrinks on their payrolls.

The need to come up with facile fallacies simple enough to compete in the media's struggle for the lowest common denominator of its audience explains some of the psyche delving. The main reason it's so prevalent, however, is the amazing fact that's how athletes tend to talk about themselves and their own performances, too. After a loss or poor individual performance, 99 of 100 jocks would rather say they needed a better attitude towards their work than that they just didn't have it today. When it comes to admitting maybe they just weren't as good as the other guy or team, make that 999 of 1000.

This used to baffle me. Why would anyone admit to the primal character flaw of an inner reason for not giving one's best rather than the value-neutral fact of coming in second in a physical contest? It took a long time before I realized that as men (and women) of action and not reflection, athletes PREFER to analyze their own minds rather than bodies. A defect of mind or will can be corrected. Getting beat physically moves one that much closer to unemployment. It's a lot easier to come to spring training with a new attitude than a new body.

There's no reason why we outsiders should fall for the jocks' defense mechanism, however, especially when baseball's the sport in question. It's not a game that attracts introspective people.

When the geese are on the wing south, the frost's on the pumpkin and psychobabble dominates baseball discourse, my thoughts turn to the brilliant insight of Mayo Smith, a manager of the '50s and '60s who won a World Series in 1968 with, of all teams, the Tigers.

"Open up a ballplayer's head and you know what you'll find?" Smith once said. "A lot of little broads and a jazz band."

posted by Michael Gee @ 9:31 AM