A Matter of Style, and Substance

Hall of Fame pitcher Gaylord Perry, 67, spends his retirement enjoying long fishing trips, attending baseball functions at Cooperstown, N.Y., and stopping by memorabilia shows to sign autographs to earn some pocket change from fans who still adore the 314-game winner. During his 22 big league seasons Perry was best known for one pitch.

That’s why he titled his autobiography “Me and the Spitter.”

Then there’s Canadian sprinter Ben Johnson, who has watched his seven-figure bank account dwindle to almost nothing, according to his longtime manager. Johnson has lived in the downstairs of his mother’s home and his business ventures have foundered since a urine test showed he had relied on steroids to win the 100-meter gold medal at the 1988 Olympics in Seoul, South Korea.

Both Perry and Johnson broke rules to achieve sporting success. But Perry has emerged as a lovable uncle-type whose past exploits draw chuckles and even applause, while Johnson, 44, remains a pariah for being the first prominent athlete to be disqualified for using performance-enhancing drugs.

“Charisma and likability go an awful long way in determining an athlete’s personal brand, and that’s no different than in the more contemporary example of the positions of Lance Armstrong and Floyd Landis,” said David Carter, executive director of USC’s Sports Business Institute. “But fans also take cheating less personally when you’re comparing scuffing a baseball versus threatening the integrity of the game. Gamesmanship pushed to the brink is savvy. Gamesmanship pushed too far is poor sportsmanship.”

In the 1984 Olympics, Johnson won a bronze medal behind 100-meter winner Carl Lewis. Johnson rebounded to defeat Lewis in several races, including the 1987 world championships in Rome. At that event Johnson, who was far more muscular than he had been a few years earlier, established a world record by winning in 9.83 seconds.

At the time Johnson was making $480,000 a month in endorsements. He was named the Associated Press athlete of the year.

In Seoul, Johnson beat Lewis with another world-record time of 9.79. Two days later, he tested positive for the steroid Stanozolol, was stripped of his medal, and Lewis was declared the winner.

In 1989 Lewis said that Johnson would not have made the Canadian Olympic team without the help of steroids.

Morris Chrobotek, Johnson’s longtime agent and manager, blames Johnson’s former coach, Charlie Francis, and others for pressuring the runner to use steroids. “Ben was like other athletes who are made the clown by these guys around them, these handlers who are more interested in making money than anything else. And as soon as something goes wrong ... they move on to the next guy,” Chrobotek said. “He’s an athlete totally destroyed because the system destroyed him.”

Perry also achieved greatness by relying on artificial means. He struck out 3,534 batters and twice won the Cy Young Award.

Perry was talented, but he was mostly known for an illegal spitball and used substances, such as Vaseline and K-Y Jelly, to alter his pitches. His pre-delivery routine became almost comical, as he dabbed his hair, ears, cap and other body parts before throwing the ball. He made no secret that a “grease ball” was part of his repertoire and that batters never knew when he would throw it.

“I’d always have it [grease] in at least two places, in case the umpires would ask me to wipe one off,” Perry has said. “I never wanted to be caught out there with anything, though; it wouldn’t be professional.”

In August 1982, in his 21st season, Perry was finally ejected for throwing a doctored baseball. Perry shrugged it off. Upon retirement, he said, “The league will be a little drier now, folks.”

Former Angels manager Gene Mauch forecast Perry’s 1991 Hall of Fame election, but said, “He should be in with a tube of K-Y Jelly attached to his plaque.”

Paul Swangard, managing director of the University of Oregon’s Warsaw Sports Marketing Center, says Perry “is a piece of baseball folklore, from when cheating was much less sophisticated. Johnson is vilified, especially in this country, because he made a blatant attempt to break the rules on a stage where [officials] were constantly looking for rule breakers. He was a foreigner who robbed a significant American sports star of his due.”

Johnson also didn’t stand a chance to rebuild his torn image “because he doesn’t speak well, he stutters and he’s not that intellectual,” Chrobotek said.

Johnson, and his manager, contend that American athletes’ endorsement deals can influence whether or not they will test positive for performance-enhancing drugs. Johnson has also lamented not having a track and field athletes’ union behind him to offer the same legal protection afforded baseball players who face drug-use allegations, said Chrobotek.

But Dick Pound, chairman of the World Anti-Doping Agency based in Montreal, says Johnson’s image hasn’t been rehabilitated because “people think the Olympics should be fair. And they viewed Ben as giving the middle finger to the Olympics.”

After losing his gold medal, Johnson resumed his track career, without much success. After Johnson failed a second drug test in 1993 he received a lifetime ban by the International Amateur Athletic Federation. Johnson maintained he was innocent.

Later, Johnson had a car detailing business, but that failed. He’s now hoping to make some money in a sports apparel company -- the clothing is for sale on a website that also accepts deposits for advance copies of Johnson’s upcoming biography.

“Ben almost got away from it. What bugs him is that the others got away with it,” Chrobotek said.