Dukes Needs to Kiss the Antics Goodbye

Dukes hit a 450-foot homer that almost cleared the Shea Stadium bleachers, a blow typical of his performance since his first Nats homer on June 5. In 177 at-bats, he's hitting .322, slugging .605 with a .415 on-base percentage and 11 homers, plus 10 steals. Could he do that for a full season? You've got to prove it. But it'd be near 200 hits, 40 doubles, 38 homers, 120 RBI and 35 steals. Total superstar.

Dukes responded to his homer by showing up the Mets, blowing a kiss toward their dugout. Basic "disrespect" isn't a new concept. In his next at-bat, the Mets brushed him back, as any team since 1869 would and should. Many pitchers would have thrown at his head. The Mets didn't.

Elijah screamed, moved toward the mound and could have started a brawl. The all-night fuss was on.

One standard doesn't fit all sports. In the NBA, trash talk and anything short of throat-slash gestures is colorful, part of the game. Fine. But just try blowing a kiss to Bill Belichick after you catch a scoring pass on the Patriots or mocking an NHL team as you skate past its bench.

Terrell Owens can taunt a Redskins crowd to boo him louder and it's considered byplay. But, in baseball, players and fans are too close to one another for too many hours on too many days for players to think they can take on a city.

Pitcher "John Rocker was Mr. Anti-New York, like a wrestling character," said Kasten, who then ran the Braves. "It worked for him for a while. But I could see what was coming. He ran off the rails" in a racist interview.

And Rocker's career quickly disintegrated into rubble.

No sport changes its nature for any player. "You have to act differently in baseball than you do in the NFL," Deion Sanders told me. "It's not wrong. It's just how it is."

Nats players are visibly inspired by Dukes's fierce style. Since he got hot on June 5, the Nats are 21-23 when he plays, but 10-31 when he's been out.

However, the Nats also know the limits of behavior in their own sport, no matter how much they crave a star like Dukes, who, if he established his long-term stability, would probably be a defensive upgrade in center field.

"He's an emotional player, but I don't know if there's really a place for that in this kind of game," Zimmerman said. "But he's a great player. He's got a lot to learn, but he showed that kind of talent he has, too."

The Nats have tried to provide Dukes with every kind of support system to overcome his copiously documented troubles in the past. He seldom even speaks to reporters and never without a team representative beside him.

In a season of boredom and disappointment, Dukes has been, by far, the best reason to watch the Nats. In their search for core pieces of their future, youngsters Lastings Milledge, Jesús Flores and John Lannan have shown promise, but hardly greatness. Others, including Collin Balester, Emilio Bonifacio and Joel Hanrahan, are on the horizon. But besides Zimmerman, Dukes stands alone.

When he smiles, or connects with a fastball, electricity hits his team and you can see the vague outline of a future.

But when he beats his chest after a walk-off walk, infuriating the pitcher, or glares at the home plate ump as his walk-off home run is still leaving the park, the Nationals' room grows darker.

The choice is clear. Soon, Dukes has to grow up. Not totally, but enough. Adults adapt. Elijah, you have to be the one to change, because the game, like the world, never will.