Drip, Drip, Drip: Baseball and Steroids, Redux

Baseball's chattering class is well along in working through the meaning, the fallout, the lasting impact, the pain, the betrayal, the possibility of forgiveness that is booming around the sordid business of Alex Rodriguez's now-admitted use of performance enhancing drugs.
The rending of garments -- say it ain't so, A-rod -- has been exceeded by an angry and growing chorus of those eager to shoot the messenger, in this instance, the media for having reminded everyone that there was a time, not too long ago, when brawny cheaters strode across the baseball landscape.

But for every happy reminder that pitchers and catchers are soon to report, there is yet another troubling bulletin. Today is no exception. The Washington Post reported this morning that Houston shortstop Miguel Tejada had been charged with lying to congressional investigators about his use of performance enhancers. Tejada is due in U.S. District Court tomorrow morning and his appearance cannot help but trigger another attempt at attaching blame, seeking an escape, and finding meaning.

Here is the meaning, and complicated it is not: for a long time a group of very talented men decided that because they risked no sanction from the poohbahs who ran their game, and because many of them had always gotten away with a good many things that perhaps they should not have gotten away with -- ah, to be the best ballplayer in school -- they could cheat. And so they did. The dispiriting thing was that many people didn't want to know because these men brought them such delight. That their achievements were the result of skill teamed with anabolic steroids made no difference.

The culture of cheating spread to young people, who in the interest of "getting bigger" dabbled where they should not have, and in several tragic instances paid with their lives.
Baseball has worked to amend its ways, to toughen its stand against the cheaters. Home run numbers have dropped, accordingly.

Yet the past -- and what game has done more to celebrate the sepia-tinged images of its past than baseball? -- sticks to the sport like gum at the bottom of a shoe. Unaddressed and unattended, it haunts.

A full accounting, a baseball equivalent of a truth and reconciliation commission, sounds like a holy mess. And yet, what to do with A-Rod, and perhaps Tejada, and the other 103 names that appeared on the list that ensnared Rodriguez and which was somehow never destroyed?

The names will come out. Count on it. The news will not go away, no matter how strident the calls to the talk-sports radio stations beseeching the newshounds to return to the press box.
The press will not stop until the story goes away, until, in the parlance of the trade, it loses its legs. For the moment, it endures like those horrific stories that emerge periodically from the child welfare system -- a child wrongfully returned to a homicidal parent. The agencies clam up and the press parks outside outside the courthouse door, seeking every leak it can because that is the job, to find out.

And yet, once the truth emerges -- those same agencies, having gained wisdom, now reveal all and quickly -- the press will turn elsewhere.

The baseball blogosphere today is dotted with such items as projections that the Cubbies will win 96 games this season, that the Mets' John Maine can throw without pain, and the ongoing question about who will sign Manny Ramirez.

Good stories all.

But at 11 o'clock tomorrow morning Miguel Tejada will come to court.

The story will not end there.

Comments

[Stefano]

For this sport to save its credibility, they need real testing, random, unannounced, and often. The results must be made public, and the tests be done by an impartial service. And the players on the list back in 2003 need to fall on the sword and admit it. Here's what I see, a bunch of guys trying to save their records and hall of fame careers. But they are destroying the sport and the rest of the clean players. Their choice is to admit it and take the punishment, or drag down all the players who may or may not have used them. Until that is done, no one from this era of baseball should be elected to the Hall of Fame.

[bioluminescence]

One of the great mysteries of modern day sports must be the fact that Major League Baseball owners have extended the contract of Commissioner Bud Selig until 2012. Selig's inability or unwillingness to deal effectively with steroid abuse are the biggest threat to the integrity of America's pastime. As a consequence Congress has had to step in and the problem will most certainly escalate into criminal prosecutions of star players.

Congress should call Selig in and demand for an action plan from the Commissioner's office to clean up the game once and for all. The report should be due July 8, the anniversary of his appointment. They might have to call him in from vacation because he doesn't appear to be at work.

[E1k]

Nor should the story end here. Baseball used to be the game millions of kids dreamed of growing up to play. But why bother, if you know you will never make it to the big league clubs unless you cheat and or play with cheaters? The players and the owners and the (HA HA) commissioner have to realize that cheating no longer makes their game a sport, just an exhibition. And while their show may be entertaining to some, any and all of their records and stats mean nothing. Seriously, who among you look to the paper every day for the Professional Wrestling stats? Baseball MUST have complete and transparent testing. Unannounced and several times a year from every player. And any player in violation of the testing should be given one opportunity for review under a commissioner's panel. A second failed test or a decision of failure by the panel would result in immediate and complete removal from playing in baseball. Period.