
In an era where racism, sexism and other "-isms" are rightfully denounced, there are still two insults that society somehow deems acceptable (and perhaps even fashionable): degrading someone for their weight or their age.
Even if the insults come in the form of jokes, they can be damaging — not the haymaker of a knockout punch but a constant stream of body blows.
Those in the public spotlight — particularly athletes, who depend on both physical gifts and the duration of their abilities — are acutely judged in these ways. And it is fair to say in the Venn diagram of weight and age questions, new Twins pitcher Bartolo Colon is in the overlapping area of the two circles.
If Colon seems to be in on the jokes, one can guess that part of it is sincere self-deprecation … but perhaps a greater part of it is rooted in the resigned knowledge of how exhausting and impossible it would be to not play along.
Colon is 44 years old, is listed at 280 pounds, and is still pitching. When the Twins signed him recently, the move was largely regarded as nothing more than desperation — a "why not?" Hail Mary after so many other starting candidates had failed for a team hanging on the edges of surprising contention.
When he started Tuesday against the Yankees and pitched four effective innings, the general fan consensus seemed to be that we were witnessing some sort of miracle.
When he was hit hard in the fifth — something that can happen to anyone against the Yankees, who have one of the best offenses in the majors — and ultimately took the loss, nobody was surprised. The consensus: Colon is over the hill and overweight. What did the Twins expect?
I don't know. It just seems strange to me to judge a pitcher for one (really) bad half a season instead of four (quite) good ones that preceded it, all of which came when Colon was already deemed too old to be any good any more.