Opinion: The tale of "Toe" Nash
by Dan Passner
Sports | 2/18/03
Posted online at 10:20 PM EST on 2/17/03
In 1994, underappreciated filmmaker / actor Albert Brooks released a movie called "The Scout. In the film, Brendan Fraser plays Steve Nebraska, a phenom who can do anything on the field, but is hindered off of it by crippling mental troubles. Few people know that there is an actual "Steve Nebraska," and both he, and society, have struck out.
Sportswriters pounced on the story of a 6 foot 6 inch behemoth of a man named Greg Nash who was literally discovered in the middle of nowhere (a semi-pro league in southern Louisiana). The media saw this powerful, switch-hitting, semi-literate Nash as a journalistic goldmine. To the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, the team that first signed him, he was a potential draw and savior; a Simon Bolivar borne of the cane fields.
In less than two years, however, Nash went from savior to pariah. What, you ask, could precipitate such a calamitous downfall? It was the combination of two factors: Minor league stats that didn't exactly conjure up memories of Roy Hobbs in "The Natural" and a crime that a successful athlete can't just sweep under the legal system's rug: statutory rape.
So what became of "Toe" Nash as he was commonly known? After going to trial, Nash spent eight months in jail for his act, which, considering he was 18 at the time of the crime, seemed quite reasonable.
Of course, Nash lost eight months of precious development time, which pushed him further behind the many players eager to do whatever it takes for their cup of big league coffee. This was especially tragic in light of the fact that Nash has been behind on development all of his life.
He's another in a long line of athletes who, at a young age, displayed outstanding physical skills, but a less-than-outstanding mental capacity. Nash was rushed through the academic system in his school days and stripped of an education as a young adult by a father who raised him entirely on his own.
Of course, Nash got another chance after the Devil Rays released him, because teams will take a flyer on anyone who gets mentioned in the news. However, Nash kept finding ways to screw up.
Sportswriters pounced on the story of a 6 foot 6 inch behemoth of a man named Greg Nash who was literally discovered in the middle of nowhere (a semi-pro league in southern Louisiana). The media saw this powerful, switch-hitting, semi-literate Nash as a journalistic goldmine. To the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, the team that first signed him, he was a potential draw and savior; a Simon Bolivar borne of the cane fields.
In less than two years, however, Nash went from savior to pariah. What, you ask, could precipitate such a calamitous downfall? It was the combination of two factors: Minor league stats that didn't exactly conjure up memories of Roy Hobbs in "The Natural" and a crime that a successful athlete can't just sweep under the legal system's rug: statutory rape.
So what became of "Toe" Nash as he was commonly known? After going to trial, Nash spent eight months in jail for his act, which, considering he was 18 at the time of the crime, seemed quite reasonable.
Of course, Nash lost eight months of precious development time, which pushed him further behind the many players eager to do whatever it takes for their cup of big league coffee. This was especially tragic in light of the fact that Nash has been behind on development all of his life.
He's another in a long line of athletes who, at a young age, displayed outstanding physical skills, but a less-than-outstanding mental capacity. Nash was rushed through the academic system in his school days and stripped of an education as a young adult by a father who raised him entirely on his own.
Of course, Nash got another chance after the Devil Rays released him, because teams will take a flyer on anyone who gets mentioned in the news. However, Nash kept finding ways to screw up.
