Balls Out

The class looked at Ellis' postgame interview and dissected his mannerisms, laughing at how obvious it seemed that he was high. In a way, Ellis ending up on the straight and narrow in this small town, spending his days with criminals who are in the same boat he once was, not caring so much about baseball or his legacy--he couldn't have found a better confirmation of the faith that the Brad Corbetts and George Steinbrenners, the Al Rambos and the Dave Parkers placed in him when he was at his craziest: the belief that somewhere beneath the hair curlers and the fancy clothes and the fights and the clenched jaws was a man of true character.

The sport of baseball has, since his retirement, more or less shunned him because of who he was. The irony, of course, is that Ellis' one-time problems, which prevented him from being a truly great player, have since revealed him to be something more like a great person.

And baseball, like the rest of us, could use a few more of those.