Bad day for baseball

By Zack Baker
210 west Writer [send email]

Mark McGwire said he was not there to talk about the past.

Rafael Palmeiro denied, denied, denied. Jose Canseco spoke another version of his story. Sammy Sosa forgot how to speak English.

Curt Schilling came out of things OK, but then no one would dare accuse him of ‘roiding up. They would accuse him of being an arrogant blowhard, but he’s used to it.

We didn’t learn a lot from the players’ congressional hearing on steroids, except that none of them wanted to be there, and none of them wanted to incriminate themselves.

Except Canseco. He would commit a crime just for the mug shot.

Still, while it wasn’t always exciting testimony or exciting television, it was a very pivotal day for major league baseball.

If it were a grade school test, baseball would have to have its parents sign it.

It was a black eye for a sport that can’t see already. And yet, as a baseball fan, there was this strange sense of vindication.

Not when the players sat there and embarrassed themselves, but rather, when the “leadership” took the stand.

Congress took every shot it could at those in charge of the sport, from every possible angle.

And, try as they might, baseball commissioner Bud Selig, Players Association Kingpin Donald Fehr, and MLB’s labor director Rob Manfred had no good answers.

That’s not because they choked, but rather because baseball has no answers.

Congress pressed them.

Didn’t you have any suspicions of use years ago?

How can you do so little in the face of something that is illegal?

Why does a player get five chances before his career is put in jeopardy?

Again and again, baseball had no answers.

I do though.

Suspicions? Thomas Boswell’s 1988 column about Canseco and possible steroid use couldn’t have gone unnoticed by MLB, But they were coming off record setting home runs in 1987, and along with that, record attendence. Baseball couldn’t legally do anything? They did this offseason, and that was in the middle of a labor agreement.

Bottom Line: Baseball not only had strong suspicions, they knew. And they looked the other way.

The new, tougher policy? What if Barry Bonds tests positive as he’s about to break Hank Aaron’s home run record? Imagine the headlines. Baseball needed a way to protect its stars. If Jody Gerut tests positive for steroids (I use him because I am fairly confident he’s clean) we would hear about it. If Gary Sheffield does? Probably not.

Manfred was especially frustrated. At several times, he raised his voice, and appeared to get lost in his own verbal traps.

But you shouldn’t try to outsmart congress with bullshit. No one on earth creates more than them.

Bud Selig appeared flat-out senile at times. At just about every turn, he reminded those in congress that he had been in the game 40 years, and that steroids were a “sensitive issue.”

Here’s a new idea for a drinking game for anyone who catches a replay of the hearing on C-Span. Every time Selig reminds someone just how old he is, take a shot.

Every time Fehr acts like his microphone not working, take a shot.

Every time Manfred’s veins appear to be bulging out of his forehead, take a shot.

Suddenly, St. Patricks Day will seem like a Monday in April.

But baseball, and its players, deserve it.

Selig deserves it because did nothing on the issue from the moment he sat in the commissioners chair. Need proof?

In 2000, Orioles player Manny Alexander was pulled over with steroids in his car. Baseball made him take a drug test.

Shockingly, he passed. Alexander was not suspended.

Fehr deserves it because he has allowed his union to cater to its stars. Because of Fehr’s, “hear no evil, see no evil” approach to the issue, all of his clients appear guilty.

Manfred deserves it because he’s a lawyer. No other reason is needed.

McGwire deserves scrutiny because he passed himself off as a hero. Guilty or not, heroes tell the truth.

Yes, Thursday’s hearing was a bad day for the game’s credibility.

But they deserve it.

Ken Caminiti, the 1996 National League MVP, is dead in part because of steroids. Jose Canseco, the 1988 AL MVP, is disgraced.

McGwire and Sosa will never be looked at the same way. They were credited with baseball’s so-called “renaissance,” but now they are key figures in what could be the sports major downfall.

Yet, the comedy of errors seen Thursday could have been avoided if baseball had dealt with steroids earlier.

How much earlier?

How about in 1988 when Boston fans chanted “steroids” at Canseco?

How about when steroids became illegal in 1991?

How about when McGwire was found to be using andro in his 70-homer 1998 season?

Well, they didn’t.

So many lost chances. But it’s kind of nice to see a criminal get caught.