• 3/9/2005
  • Jon Saraceno
  • USA Today

Curt Schilling is addicted. His drug of choice … Smokeless tobacco.

It is legal, but it certainly is not harmless. And someone you know — maybe even your own child — craves the stuff at this very moment.

Many would like to shake the disgusting habit, but they can’t seem to conquer the highly addictive properties of nicotine. They don’t feel as alert when they’re not using. They become edgy and irritable without the pinch of snuff between cheek and gum. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention more young athletes are trying the nasty stuff — even girls.

Many are like Schilling, who first dipped at 16 in his Arizona high school. “I tried it at lunch, liked it and have been doing it ever since.”

Schilling, 38, wants to quit, but that New Year’s resolution seems like years ago now. His family is after him, too, particularly his 7-year-old daughter, Gabriella. Tuesday, the big, tough right-hander sounded scared — almost as afraid as the time when a lesion was discovered in his mouth several years ago. He went cold turkey for a year and a half, until someone handed him the strong stuff at a golf tournament.

“I took one dip, and I was full-blown back in it,” he says despondently. “It’s an addiction that covers so many things physically and mentally.”

He stopped during spring training this year.

For all of two days.

“I’ve never had any experience with something like this,” Schilling says. “I’ve never before been remotely addicted to anything. This is, by far, the worst thing I’ve ever experienced. I would tell (young people) this: If you want to have pre-cancerous lesions in your mouth … want to lose your sense of smell and taste … want to have your appetite change … want to have acid reflux and potentially get cancer of the esophagus, stomach, chin, lip, mouth, whatever … then maybe it’s the right thing to do.”

He says he uses it to relax, but not when he’s pitching. Randy Johnson also uses it as a “stress-reducer.”

“I know it’s something I shouldn’t be doing, and it’s not something I’m proud of at all,” says the New York Yankees pitcher. “I know it’s bad and I’m trying to stop. I realize that what I do, a lot of kids will do. There’s no doubt that I’m sending the wrong message.”

It’s a communication young people cannot miss. They’re not only highly susceptible to peer pressure, they’re looking for ways to establish independence. And they’re looking up to athletes as role models.

The American Cancer Society says that smokeless tobacco users are 50 times more at risk for developing various cancers than those who don’t use. Nearly 9,000 people die every year from oral cancer. Seventy percent of regular users develop lesions in the mouth, according to medical experts, with about 3%-4% developing into full-blown cancer. Pat Sullivan, who won the Heisman Trophy in 1971 at Auburn, was one of them. After three rounds of chemotherapy and 34 radiation treatments, Alabama at Birmingham’s offensive coordinator is free of the cancer that ravaged his throat.

A lot of people are using smokeless tobacco these days, and they’re not only athletes. They’re firemen, policemen, lawyers, accountants, pilots — yes, even sportswriters. We have at least two in my office. And, of course, at least one tobacco company, UST, Inc., is using advertising and marketing strategies to urge people to consider smokeless tobacco as a more convenient alternative to traditional smoking. The implication for many is that it’s also less risky. UST chief executive Vincent Gierer was quoted by the Associated Press as telling investors three months ago that, “For several years in the ’80s, we were part of the problem. Now we’re seen as part of the solution.”

The CDC doesn’t believe so. Smokeless tobacco is listed as a cause for nicotine addiction and oral cancer.

“Smokeless is such a warm, fuzzy word. Call it what it is — spit tobacco, because it’s ugly and deadly,” says Joe Garagiola, the former player and broadcaster who is the leading crusader on the topic.

One day, he got a phone call from Mike Hurst, baseball coach at Georgia State whose raspy voice startled Garagiola. Hurst had throat cancer from years of using smokeless tobacco. Hurst had heard Garagiola give his patented speech about the dangers of smokeless tobacco during coaches’ conventions, always standing in the back of the room while spitting tobacco juice into a cup.

“Joe, I never thought it would happen to me; I always thought it would happen to the other guy,” he told Garagiola. “Guess what? I’m the other guy.”