One was on top of the world, the other at the bottom of an abyss. Ecstatic New Yorkers chanted “go for 28” — referring to a 28th victory for the franchise next season. Taiwan's baseball fans had little to celebrate, but had plenty to mourn regarding the near-demise of their professional baseball, which is only 20 years old.

The Yankees are a landmark of New York, like the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty. The team has such legendary figures such as Babe Ruth and Yogi Berra of yesteryear, and A-Rod and Derek Jeter of today. Yes, don't forget “Godzilla” Hideki Matsui who set a World Series record of six RBIs in Wednesday's championship-winning game, vanquishing the Philadelphia Phillies 7-3 and winning the coveted MVP award.

Taiwan's baseball, though much younger, also has something to boast about. In 1969, the Golden Dragons, a rag-tag group of school kids seemed to have come from nowhere to win the Little League World Series in Williamsport, Pa., bringing home a baseball fever and craze that marked the dawning of Taiwan's baseball era. In the 70s and 80s, Taiwan's little leaguers had won so many championships in Williamsport that they were banned from taking part for many years. In the meantime, those kids had grown up to play in junior and big leagues. At the 1992 Olympics in Barcelona, Taiwan's baseball team won the silver medal, making Taiwan a baseball power in the world.

When baseball has become a national pastime, could the birth of professional baseball be far behind? In 1989, the Chinese Professional Baseball League (CPBL) was born, and thrived. Many erstwhile little leaguers have either become coaches or gone overseas to play professional baseball in Japan or the United States. In the heyday of CPBL, the leagues had eight teams, including the famed Brother Elephants, now gasping for breath in its death throes.

The plight of the Elephants is the epitome of the island's baseball woes. Rumors about game fixing had been rife for quite a long time. Some insiders alleged that game throwing, or dajiaqiu (打假球) in Chinese, has existed “as long as the League itself.” The malaise eroded the integrity and health of Taiwan's major league, effectively decimating the league to only four teams now.

Of the foursome, three have been under investigation for “dajiaqiu,” a criminal offense in Taiwan, unlike in America where gambling on sports competitions is legal. Pete Rose, a former slugger for the Cincinnati Reds and all-time Major League leader in hits (4,256 to be exact), who later became the team's head coach, admitted that he betted for the umpteenth time “on” his team to win, not “against” it. That meant he did not try to let his team lose, or throw the game, as some of Taiwan's players have been accused of doing for money. Even so, Rose, now 68, has been barred from being inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame, a pantheon of glory to which he truly belongs, as far as his unparalleled professional achievements are concerned.

　　In Taiwan, however, the betting involves the criminal underworld and involves big money. Players are lured into collaborating with the underworld to “play fake ball” by losing games intentionally in exchange for bribes which could be as high as US$90,000 per game, according to media reports.

　　Game fixing scandals are not uncommon in other parts of the world as well. In Europe, for instance, soccer has been plagued by such scandals. In mainland China, a number of noted soccer players and sports officials were detained last week for interrogation about their involvement in alleged game fixing.

　　Game fixing, according to former president Lee Teng-hui, is “soul trading.” The plain-talking octogenarian has really hit the nail on the head. The Faustian bargain is despicable because it betrays the trust of their fans who regard them as their heroes. Imagine how Yankee fans would feel if relief pitcher Mariano Rivera threw the game to the Phillies last Wednesday.

　　It can be argued that you cannot expect all baseball players to be so pristine as to resist the temptation of money when their salary is not attractive enough. Indeed, Alex Rodriguez , the Yankees' home run leader, makes more than US$26 million a year. How much does the Elephants' Tsao Chin-hui make? The former pitcher of the L.A. Dodgers may not get one hundredth of that.

　　Still, cheating cannot be justified by any reason. If you were dazzled by the spectacle of 80,000 fans watching the World Series championship game last Wednesday, you should remember that Rome was not built in one day. America's baseball empire today is vastly different from what it was a century ago. Babe Ruth earned only US$70,000 a year in the 1930s.

　　It requires collective efforts to build that empire. Baseball clubs, fans, businesses and government must work together and in good faith to build it step-by-step, block-by-block. If Taiwan wants to revive its dying professional baseball, it must first eradicate cheating by disqualifying the eligibility, for life, of any player found throwing games for money. In the meantime, the government should enforce stringent laws banning underground betting. Taiwan has enough baseball fans and businesses to support the revival if the players, coaches and sports officials are determined play clean ball.