Juicin’

The Mitchell Report is out, and 80 or so baseball players have been identified as having used steroids to advance their careers. There is so much going on there that it would take a professional sports writer to parse it all out. And they are trying, but they are missing some key points, I think.

First, however, the comedy. Roger Clemens is in full-denial mode, and is so wealthy that he doesn’t even need to do it himself. His hired gun, his lawyer, is doing it for him. Andy Petitte is beating a strategic retreat, saying he did it once for an injury, not explaining the curative powers of the drugs. And Mike Stanton is doing the most common thing of all – he saying he never met the guy who fingered him, wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a police lineup.

But there’s other stuff to note as well. For one, the Mitchell Report pays only lip service to ownership and management’s role in promoting the sorry state of affairs. They knew. They had to know, but they also knew that baseballs leaving the park brought in the fans. The San Francisco Giants used Barry Bonds all they could, milked him for every ticket they could sell, and once be broke Henry Aaron’s record, unceremoniously dumped him.

But the report was commissioned by ownership, and it did not bite the hand.

Think of this: Mitchell had one real witness who led him to another, and two men gave him 80 suspects. Think what would be if he had four witnesses, if he had a line to every training room in the league. What I heard right after the report was released was a huge rush of escaping air. It was a collective sigh of relief. If you have a favorite team and follow its athletes, pay special attention to those whose performances have declined severely these past two or three years. I’m thinking of players like Austin Kearns, who was a rookie phenomenon projected for greatness who last year hit five home runs. Be suspicious.

I see very little expression of understanding for the athletes. Had I that kind of ability, and knowing my competition had an advantage in juicing, what would I do? Would I turn my back on millions of dollars to remain pure? We’re talking about people of ordinary means here, many of them from Latin America who are supporting families and communities. The pressure on them was substantial, the rewards high, the punishment nonexistent. In the end, their bodies will suffer, their muscles will deteriorate prematurely, and surely they are at risk for cancer. It’s an awful thing, but circumstances brought it about. These are not bad people. They are just people.

I do hope that the real records and superb athletes of days gone by – Ruth and Aaron and Koufax and Spahn and Seaver – are accorded higher respect than the ‘roid boys. Bonds deserves to be in the Hall of Fame for being a superior athlete during his natural years, as does Clemens. But anything they did post-injection deserves an asterisk.

And, finanlly, there’s the problem of testing – some forms of human growth hormone are still undetectable by means of urine testing. If there is a way, juicing will be done. I hope the players’ union sees its way clear to open the door for thorough and independent testing. I love this game, and want to see it clean and healthy.