Some guys take nature’s hint.
More like nature’s throat punch. Growing up, the Braves’ Chris Johnson saw his dad dip tobacco regularly, but didn’t try it himself until he was a college kid away at the summer Cape Cod League. He was in the back of an old school bus on a sticky hot day when a teammate offered him a pinch. Tucking it away between cheek and gum, Johnson had to summon every bit of self-control to delay vomiting until he could stumble off the bus. And that forever ended his smokeless tobacco career.
Some guys don’t.
Long before he took up center field for the Braves, when he was still a high schooler in Virginia, B.J. Upton took his first dip.
“I almost passed out,” he remembered. “You’d think that would be enough, but I went back for more.
“I stopped for about a year or so, but once got in pro ball, I came back.”
The June 16 death of Tony Gwynn of salivary-gland cancer once more made baseball look at its long, brown-stained relationship with dipping and chewing tobacco. No science conclusively linked Gwynn’s cancer to his use of the stuff. Even one of his consulting physicians reportedly said tobacco was “not likely to be associated” with his cancer. But, most powerfully, Gwynn himself made the connection.
Shortly before his death, Gwynn lent himself to an anti-“spit tobacco” video produced by the Professional Baseball Athletic Trainers Society. Too weak at the time to speak the words, he relied upon someone else’s voice to urge players to either abstain from or quit a practice almost ingrained in the culture of the game.
When a player of Gwynn’s stature, a hitter of historic proportions, dies at 54 of a rare cancer, it is bound to provoke some healthy soul-searching. Now a part of Gwynn’s legacy, in addition to the eight National League batting titles, the 3,141 hits, the lifetime .338 average, is the baseball player who may be scared snuff-less by his death.
Out of the game since 2012, former Brave Chipper Jones’ Twitter posts recently have begun to include passages about trying to give up his habit.
“5 Days Without Dipping. Bout to bite someone’s head off!!!”
Referring to a tobacco-free substitute here: “Think I’m gonna try Smokey Mountain to help the urge to dip. I only feel it when I’m active or late at nite before bed. Otherwise, I’m good!”
Once part of the San Diego State team coached by Gwynn, Washington Nationals pitcher Stephen Strasburg announced he was going to quit. Just how tough a habit is it kick? At one point as Strasburg was discussing the subject with media, he reportedly was chewing tobacco.
Another of Gwynn’s former college players, Arizona pitcher Addison Reed swept his locker clean of tobacco cans.
Baseball’s policy toward spit tobacco has evolved toward trying to discourage its use at the minor league levels (it is banned there and throughout college baseball). Any major league ban of a legal product would have to be taken up in the next collective bargaining agreement. For now, players are told to load up discreetly, out of sight. No more telltale tobacco-can rings on the back pocket of the uniform. No more bulging cheeks or lips as players sign autographs or make appearances away from the field.
“A long time ago, growing up, you saw guys doing it on TV. That’s just kind of how it was,” B.J. Upton said. It is not quite so omnipresent anymore.
Its use at the big-league level remains essentially a personal choice, one that some at least have been forced to re-visit after Gwynn’s death.
“It’s something I would like to quit doing,” closer Craig Kimbrel said. “It’s a lot easier to do in the offseason than it is here in the season. (The Gwynn story) definitely opens your eyes a little bit. It’s definitely something I need to quit doing.”
Kimbrel said he began using spit tobacco a little more than four years ago, after being converted from starter to reliever. “Once I got in the bullpen I had a little more time, it kind of sneaked up on me,” he said. “It was like, ‘OK, I’ll take a rally dip here, take it for the team.’ Then it became more often.”
Idle time is the nursery for baseball’s long dependence on spit tobacco. Chewing and dipping grew as the accepted way to occupy one’s self during the often leisurely course of a game day. Ryan Doumit, for instance, said he began very occasional use of chew only this year as he transitioned to the role of a part-time performer for the Braves.
What they also derive from this form of tobacco is a powerfully efficient and addictive nicotine delivery system. Those who do quit face significant withdrawal pangs, something few want to face during the season.
“A lot of guys would stop if it was easy,” B.J. Upton said.
Back at the end of the 2012 season, Nolan Ryan, then the Texas Rangers’ CEO, even criticized Josh Hamilton’s decision to quit dipping that previous summer, saying the withdrawal contributed to a batting slump and ultimately hurt the team.
A survey of major leaguers this spring showed one-third of them using, certainly fewer than a couple of decades ago. “Definitely less than in the past,” Braves manager Fredi Gonzalez said.
The manager quit his use long ago, back in his early playing days when his mother urged him to quit. “I’m glad she did,” Gonzalez said.
The Braves generally fall into the major league average. For instance, fan around the infield from first to third, no one uses. In the outfield, the Upton brothers do, Jason Heyward doesn’t.
No one can say that players are unaware. Warnings are everywhere. They are printed on the product. They come packaged in testimonials and videos that all of them are exposed to, often during spring training. And a new one is on the way, starring a legendary hitter who haunts from the grave.
