THE BELL CURVE:

I saw a boy on the beach last weekend wearing a T-shirt that said: “Life is a game; baseball is serious.” He was young, maybe 10, and I doubt if he understood either the import or timing of the words he was wearing. The import is wondering to what degree the exposure of the widespread use of steroids by lionized ball players will make cynics of those of us — young and old — who regard the game as a role model for life, itself. And the timing is the opening of spring training in preparation for a new baseball season while two of its most gifted players await the disposition of charges that they lied under oath about their use of steroids.

Two years before I was born, five Chicago White Sox players threw a World Series in return for money from a gambling ring. Thus was born the picture of the kid with the torn knickerbockers looking up at his hero, Shoeless Joe Jackson, and pleading “Say it ain’t so, Joe.” Although Joe Jackson’s involvement was peripheral, he was banished from the game, along with four other players. The owners of that day went looking for the toughest, most brutally honest administrator they could find to bring respect back to baseball. His name was Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis, and he ruled with an iron fist for two decades.

I’ve been that kid with the torn pants most of my life, and come April, I’ll be using my 1/16 of a season ticket to watch the Angels open a new season full — as always — of hope. What I won’t be seeing is the people who run professional baseball today looking for another Judge Landis to take over administration of the game. That hasn’t happened, and it assuredly should. In my view, the growing cadre of cheaters using steroids marks the first time since the Black Sox scandal that the probity of the game itself has been so seriously challenged.

I watched the entire hearing in which Roger Clemens and his onetime trainer, Brian McNamee were pressed — sometimes badgered — by members of Congress trying to resolve completely opposite testimony. It was rather like watching a tooth extraction, but I couldn’t put it down. Reminded me of the hearings in which Sen. Joseph McCarthy was finally exposed so many years ago. Clemens’ body language and discomfort appeared more truthful than his testimony, enough so that his case has been turned over for possible prosecution, while the other users named in the Mitchell Report sweat out its impact on their lives and careers.

While Judge Landis spins in his grave, the people who should be sweating are the team owners, the players’ union and former owner and current baseball commissioner Bud Selig who have allowed this situation to build to its present crisis level, apparently on the hope that it will just go away.

Well, it won’t, and I hope they start looking for another Judge Landis soon. I don’t want to be speculating on which players are or were using steroids when I go to Opening Day in a few weeks.

And — like the epigram on the T-shirt — I’m serious about that.

With lightning rapidity, the members of the Costa Mesa City Council have decided that further growth of John Wayne Airport poses serious problems for residents of their city, and that it is time to consider counter attacks. Those of us who have been at this, one way or another, for a good while must not allow bitterness that Costa Mesa is arriving at this conclusion about 10 years too late. We must instead welcome them to the troops pledging to hold the line at John Wayne.

There was some division in the Council when Councilwoman Katrina Foley followed a proposal — accepted by a 5-0 margin — that Costa Mesa adopt the stance endorsed by the Newport Beach City Council with a suggestion that Costa Mesa also establish a permanent aviation committee to keep heat on the issue. Mayor Pro Tem Allan Mansoor scoffed at the idea of one more committee in a sea of committees, apparently not ready to grant such unilateral status to the critical nature of the airport issue. But there was agreement on the importance of joining with Newport Beach and other cities along the John Wayne flight corridor in a strong show of unity against expansion.

So far so good. But this isn’t something to pursue when we are eyeball-to-eyeball with the expiration of the current settlement cap. We need to get it off the ground pronto. And keep it there.

Oh yes, and by the way, it is said a joke that has to be explained was not funny to begin with. If that’s true — and I believe it to be — then my reference in an earlier column about trying to get a fifth vote on an El Toro airport was a bad joke.

JOSEPH N. BELL lives in Newport Beach. His column runs Thursdays.