Congress’ motives behind baseball investigation remain murky

Something is rotten in the body of Congress.

When I first heard of the Congressional inquisition into baseball’s steroid scandal, my immediate reaction was one of skepticism. As Major League Baseball has spent months roasted alive in the media, Jose Canseco has spent weeks on the best sellers list, and fans have spent decades just wanting to watch the game, Representative Tom Davis’ decision to call baseball officials and players in front of the House Government Reform Committee reeked of…something.

I couldn’t quite put my finger on what that obnoxious odor was at first. Was it Congress’ impeccable timing? While the steroid scandal has raged on since November and rumors of steroid use in baseball have been prevalent since the mid-1990s and probably since the late 1980s, it took a book by Jose Canseco (!) – and a best-selling one at that – to finally draw the attention of the nation’s top lawmakers. To me, this seemed a little off-putting.

Where was Congress when baseball’s drug testing program paled in comparison to any other sports’ policies or the stringent international standards set by the IOC? Where was Congress when members of the media found Androstenedione in Mark McGwire’s locker? Where was Congress in 2002 when Major League Baseball implemented its joke of a policy?

Now that baseball has been in the glare of the public spotlight for a few months, the Congressional decision to put the spot on investigation seemed more like a public relations decision than anything else. I can just hear a Congressional aide whispering in the ear of some representative. “Maybe it’s time we call these guys forward. We could use the attention, and it’ll make us seem as though we’re taking the moral high road for once.�?

For a while, I accepted my skepticism as an issue of timing. I was content with this reasoning. Maybe Congress was looking for some accountability and decided to investigate because of the increased national attention. While the fans offer widely divergent opinions on steroids, the media certainly thought it was a big deal. So Congress just responded to the best indicator they had of public opinion. Then, something else happened.

Congress released the names of the players to appear before the committee, and it was as if, as Jayson Stark pointed out last week on ESPN.com, innocent before guilty had just flown out the window. Sammy Sosa, Mark McGwire, Rafael Palmeiro, Jason Giambi and Jose Canseco had all been asked to come forward. With the Congress, there’s very little beating around the bush when it comes to high-profile investigations (unless it’s one of the Speaker of the House). But even this seemed a little excessive.

Under the watching eyes of Congress and the American public, players named in BALCO testimony and in Canseco’s book could be asked later today to put their career reputations on the line. And, as Stark noted, they can’t even get in trouble for it under baseball’s rules. If they deny steroid use, there’s no way to check. There were no tests, and Major League Baseball’s banned substance list was more concerned with narcotics use than growth hormone abuse. At least Congress won on that issue back in 1985 when baseball still had a real commissioner.

By asking people named in Canseco’s book to step forward, Congress seemingly validated the claims in Canseco’s tale. But I still wasn’t sure if that was what was holding me back from embracing these hearings. As my past columns have shown, I’ve been very outspoken against steroid use in baseball. I think it sets a bad example for the youth of the nation who admire and emulate their favorite ballplayers. So if Congress wants to ensure a clean game, so be it.

Then, I read today’s coverage of the steroid scandal, and I realized why I felt so put off by this whole saga. It seemed to be an issue of Congress asserting its power over a very strong sports entity. There’s no secret that baseball is run by two of the strongest groups in the nation. The united front of the Players Union and the powerful owners are a force with which no one wants to reckon. No one, except Congress. And they’re out to get revenge.

It started when I read Sen. John McCain’s comments that he had been “duped�? by baseball’s new steroid policy. As baseball sent Congress a bunch of papers tonight, included among them was a copy of the new steroid agreement. It featured one section that granted Commissioner Bud Selig the right to fine a player instead of suspending him. McCain felt betrayed. Oh, the outrage! Instead of asking for clarification, McCain issued a blistering attack, calling on baseball to ensure a ten-day suspension for first-time steroid users instead of a discretionary fine. Baseball shot back a response saying that the fine would only occur in very extraordinary cases, and the player would be named no matter what. Baseball 1, Congress 0.

Then, I read Tom Davis’ comments about the upcoming inquest scheduled to start at 10 a.m. To say that I was a bit put off by Davis’ comments would be an understatement. First, came this quote in today’s New York Times: “Mafia figures didn’t want to show up, the quiz show people didn’t want to show up, Clinton’s people didn’t want to show up when we subpoenaed them over Whitewater, but you obey Congressional subpoenas. That’s the way the law works. If they don’t, they know where the chips fall.�?

So baseball players are as guilty, it seems, as mafia men and fall under the same category a Republican Congressman would use to classify the Clintons. Certainly, it seems that Mr. Davis is concerned with something other than an impartial investigation into baseball.

Davis followed this up with another scorcher. “This is not a witch hunt. We’re not trying to search down every baseball player that ever had steroids. I mean, you’d destroy the game. What we’re concerned about is that Major League Baseball doesn’t seem to think there was a huge problem. Balls are flying out of the park, people are shooting up in the locker rooms, and they’re saying they didn’t know. Our investigation is showing otherwise. I think if baseball executives would come forward and say, you know, we had a problem that was far greater than we thought, we’re going to try to get to the bottom of this, but in the meantime here’s what we’re doing – it’d be fine.�?

So fine, apparently, that the exact reply that Davis wanted has resulted in a Congressional inquest.

It seems to me that baseball has already done everything Rep. Davis wanted it to do. By formulating a new drug policy, baseball admitted that they had a huge problem, possibly worse than anyone realized. Comments by more than a few general mangers indicated that they did indeed know of the hormone use, but it wasn’t illegal under baseball rules. And baseball officials have set a new standard, a strict one at that.

When I read this New York Times article, I finally realized why I had been so disturbed by this steroid investigation. This isn’t Congress trying to right a wrong. This is Congress trying t

Steroids Scandal Shows Major League Disconnect

I really care about baseball’s steroid issue. I’ve found, however, that I am among the minority and that disturbs me.

Many passionate fans care about the steroid issue because it affects the integrity of the game, and it sullies the reputations of players who have been idolized by their fans. For me, the issue comes down to something as basic as cheating. Using illegal performance-enhancing drugs to one-up your competition is cheating. Just like corking your bat is cheating. Just like throwing a game is cheating. The fact that Major League Baseball had not explicitly outlawed steroid use before the 2002 Collective Bargaining Agreement does not validate any steroid use before 2002. It’s all cheating.

To understand this steroid phenomenon, it’s necessary to explore just how baseball, its fans and the media have built up a system where drug use is acceptable and encouraged. The deepest root of this evil – like many – is the promise of more money, more home runs, more fans. Would a steroid-less Giambi have received a $120 million contract offer? Would Jose Canseco have received his own overvalued $25 million contract back in the late 1980s without his steroid-fueled MVP campaign? Of course not. The drive for greed has led many players to drugs that will mess them up later in life.

But it’s not just the players who are to blame. The owners, managers and general managers can’t walk away scot-free. Tony La Russa says he knew that Jose Canseco was juicing up. The Yankees supposedly removed the word steroid from Jason Giambi’s contract. This is nothing new. In 1976, according to Wednesday’s New York Times, then-Twins executive Clark Griffith wanted a mandatory drug testing program and mandatory treatment for players abusing drugs and alcohol. The general managers voted it down, and as they told Griffith, they wouldn’t report a player without first checking out his stats.

Can this really come as a surprise to anyone? Of course not. Baseball managers and general managers are not oblivious to what goes on in the clubhouse, and they’re not blind either. When a player looks different physically and hits the ball with a little more pop in his bat without hitting the gym, something isn’t natural. But the game is about winning. Why would you rat out your best players?

Then, there is the media, possibly the guiltiest party in the entire scandal. The media is having a field day with the steroid scandal. CBS garnered high ratings from the Canseco interview; the story is splashed across tabloids across the country; and columnists on the web are audaciously suggesting that Barry Bonds retire before he further sullies some of baseball’s exalted records. Self-righteousness reigns supreme in the press.

But something’s not right because these are same sports commentators who lapped up the McGwire-Sosa 1998 home run race. These are the same sports commentators who were enthralled by Bonds’ 2001 pursuit of the home run record and are eagerly counting down the at-bats until he reaches 715, 756, and beyond. The media once trumpeted the offensive age of baseball as they applauded the game for drawing in fans to fill the seats after the strike of 1994-1995 saw a decline in baseball popularity.

If more home runs means more coverage and more coverage means more revenue, then the press – the Fourth Estate of American life – is just as guilty for encouraging steroid use as managers are for ignoring a drug problem in baseball’s clubhouses.

Furthermore, the media loves everything that sells. They love home runs; they love steroids. It’s the great hypocrisy of the press. One season, they’ll tout the great offensive explosions; the next winter, Murray Chass will wax poetic about the pressures of the new drug policy. And that’s where the fans come into play.

This is the trickiest piece of the puzzle. Are the fans to blame? Yes, but not for the obvious reasons. The fans are to blame because they don’t care enough about the steroid scandal and how it affects the integrity of the game. In a recent unscientific SportsNation poll on ESPN, more fans by a 51-49 margin, said that competitive balance was the biggest problem facing the game, not steroids. And this comes after a five-year stretch in which five different teams won the World Series. Drug use, folks, is now more acceptable than having five out of six divisions feature wide-open races this season. (Only the AL East will be a two-team dog fight.) If these SportsNation voters are only those interested enough to seek out the poll to vote, I can only imagine the apathy the rest of baseball’s more casual fans feel about steroids.

But the fans do care about the publicity. Canseco’s book was the number three seller on Amazon the day it was released. Millions of people eat up steroid news everyday. These fans, however, only seem to want more names and more details. They want gossip and innuendo. They want to know who has done what and how.

All of this stems from one overarching belief that many fans share: As long as their team’s players produce on the field, it doesn’t matter what happens off the field. This isn’t to say that everyone feels this way; I know plenty of people who are highly disappointed that players would stoop to steroid use. But these sentiments can be found everywhere among baseball fans.

I, for one, do not approve. We baseball fans should care about what baseball players do in the locker room. We should care what players who are admired by young and old alike do with their bodies. We should care about the fact that cheating is becoming a socially acceptable phenomenon in the game called America’s Pastime. While many baseball fans want to leave the steroid issue behind and just focus on the games, it’s time for baseball fans to demand accountability and integrity from the greatest game on Earth.

Canseco’s Steroid Revelations Put MLB in a Tough Spot

The story no one in baseball wants to hear – rumors about steroid use – reared its ugly head once again this weekend.

With little more than a week left before pitchers and catchers report to training camps in warm locales, the steroid scandal is once again splashed across the sports pages of newspapers across the country. This weekend’s revelations focused around former Major Leaguer Jose Canseco and his upcoming book entitled Juiced: Wild Times, Rampant ‘Roids, Smash Hits, and How Baseball Got Big.

According to the New York Daily News, Canseco delivered on his promise to name names and point fingers. He accuses former teammates Mark McGwire and Jason Giambi of shooting up. He reportedly implicates famous sluggers who played with him on the Texas Rangers and even goes so far as to take a swipe at President George W. Bush, claiming that Bush knew that his players were using performance-enhancing drugs when he owned the Rangers in the 1990s.

Players, managers, and agents have of course already begun their damage control. Tony La Russa and Dave McKay, two coaches who led the A’s during Canseco’s time with the team, disputed the leaked material from the book. In The New York Times, La Russa stuck up for his former star slugger. “He’s hurting for money and he needs to make a score. What’s a more sensational thing to say, and who’s a more sensational target to pick than Mark?�? he said.

Meanwhile, the Daily News claims that the leaked book, set to hit stores right at the start of Spring Training on Feb. 21, is already creating a stir among the higher-ups in Major League Baseball and the Players’ Association as they prepare for the worst. Yet, the issue is not a clear cut one, and it will only become further complicated as more information about the book is released. In the end, baseball could use this latest diversion to leave steroid use firmly in the past.

First, as La Russa pointed out, there’s the issue of Jose Canseco’s credibility. Truth be told, Canseco is not the most reliable of sources. He’s always had a tumultuous relationship with the media and has been into and out of trouble more often than he’s been traded. Anything he says should probably be taken with a grain of salt.

However, since Ken Caminiti’s 2002 admission to steroid use during his MVP season and the BALCO testimony that rocked the baseball world this winter, more people have been willing to listen to these steroid allegations. As ESPN contributor Mark Kriedler wrote back in 2002, “But what Ken Caminiti is saying, if you’ll take the time to find his words, is that the Jose Cansecos of the baseball world are far more right than wrong.�?

Second, compounded with the issue of Canseco’s credibility is the unfortunate (for the author, at least) timing of the book. This winter saw more than its fair share of steroid stories. Leaked Grand Jury testimony sealed the fates of certain sluggers while the development of a new steroid policy showed that baseball was ready to address a serious problem. Now, Canseco’s book really does seem like the icing on the cake. By releasing the book now, it is as though Canseco just wants to cash in on a public itching to hear more about what All Stars, what future Hall of Famers, and what average players juiced up during the past 15 years.

In response, already embattled Major League coaches such as La Russa and McKay are vehemently backing their players. But is that the right move to make? I don’t think Canseco’s book should be taken for much more than a gossipmonger trying to pick up a quick buck, but that’s only in terms of the namedropping. The real message of Canseco’s warnings – that, at one point, 80 percent of Major Leaguers used steroids – is much more likely to be true, and this isn’t something Major League Baseball can sweep under the rug.

It’s admirable that managers stand behind their superstars, but that is not the right move to make anymore. With a public that grows increasingly skeptical anytime a La Russa says that a Mark McGwire, a known user of Androstenodione, is completely innocent of using performing enhancing drugs, it’s time for Major League Baseball to reassess its responses to these steroid revelations no matter how dubious the source may be.

This raises a sticky question: Should Major League Baseball and the Players’ Association out steroid users in an effort to reclaim the purity of the game? If players stepped forward or were outed by their peers, the argument goes, the public would begin to believe those who claimed not to be users. These moves would also restore confidence in the integrity of today’s game. But considering the strength of the Players’ Association and the delicate nature of the controversy, it’s probably not the best idea for players to out their peers and thus alienate what could be a large percentage of the union. However, coaches and teammates could be better off if they remained silent on this issue instead of rushing to the defense of every nice guy or hard-working player implicated in the scandal.

In the end, Major League Baseball is in a Catch-22 situation. They shouldn’t publicly out those who used steroids during the Juiced Era, but those involved in the game shouldn’t be turning a blind eye to reality. This isn’t to say that Mark McGwire is definitely guilty and that Jose Canseco is telling the truth. But if Major League Baseball is truly intent on leaving the steroid scandal in the past, the iron wall of support for all players should come down.

Records and personal achievements of superstars from the past 15 years will always be in doubt in the public mind. Here’s to hoping that the next 15 years won’t produce an environment for any more asterisks, suspicions, syringes, or gossip-driven books.

The hidden impact of the steroid policy

By now, it’s no secret that Major League Baseball and the Players Association has beefed up baseball’s drug-testing program. On the heels of the BALCO scandal and calls from prominent politicians, baseball’s new policy is a major step in the right direction. While some people still believe that the policy is lacking in regards to the issue of amphetamine use, one facet of this new agreement should be highly effectively in curbing drug use in the clubhouse.

Under the terms of the old agreement — the one without any teeth — players received the proverbial slap on the wrist albeit an anonymous one. First-time offenders were given drug counseling. That’s it. No public shaming. No suspension. Just counseling. Repeat offenders were suspended, and a fifth-time offender would receive a year off from the game.

It’s been said to death over the past couple of years, but this was not a policy designed to lend faith to the institution. While the penalties were far from harsh, the policy called for just one test a year. The incentive to stop steroid use just wasn’t there; as long as a player was clean for that one test, it wouldn’t matter what they did the rest of the time. As the BALCO case exploded this winter, and Jason Giambi and Barry Bonds became the poster children for steroid use in the Major Leagues, MLB and the Players’ Association knew they had to come up with a new agreement, one with more bite. They unveiled this new deal on Thursday.

Under the terms of the latest agreement — which is to be in place until 2008, well past the end of the current Collective Bargaining Agreement — first-time offenders will receive a suspension of 10 games. Second-time offenders get a 30-day vacation, third-timers get 60 days, and four-time repeat users who get caught get one year. If a player gets nabbed five times, his fate is left in the hands of Commissioner Bud Selig, and it’s doubtful that Bud would be lenient.

Another big improvement in the new policy is the frequency of the tests. As ESPN reported on Thursday, “Players will be randomly selected for additional tests, with no limit on the number, and for the first time will be subject to random tests during the offseason.�? This new stipulation gives the drug policy much more weight. Players will have to clean up their acts year-round because a test could come at any day or even on consecutive days. They will be at the whim of the randomly-generated number system MLB will have in place for the start of the season.

Finally, Major League Baseball has done something positive to address a problem with the game. They’ve put in place a drug-testing program that should discourage the players. In my opinion, this program will work because of the public stigma associated with steroid use. As Jayson Stark wrote yesterday: “The worst part of testing positive would be getting that label Steroid User stamped on your forehead. That’s a scarlet letter that these players would have to wear for the rest of their lives. If you don’t believe their reputations will be tainted forever, just ask Jason Giambi—if you can find him. For a high-profile player, that means not just a life sentence of boos and insults. It means having everything he ever accomplished thoroughly discredited.�?

Now, under the new deal, players’ offenses will be a matter of public record from the first time on through their lifetime ban, if that’s the punishment Selig chooses. While some commentators feel that fans will react to what the players do on the field only, I think the fans will not forgive their favorite, or former favorite, players for cheating. Not only with the fans be unforgiving, but the suspensions will forever tarnish the reputation that player. Players who may have been idolized by youngsters will instead become the symbols of cheating in the game. Star players will become outcasts. In addition to an institutionalized punishment system, players will now be subjected to judgment by the media and the fans, and those two groups are among the first to point fingers and the last to forgive and forget.

Despite these strides, however, I still am a favor of a stricter testing policy. A few weeks ago, on my blog, I wrote about how taking steroids is just as bad, if not worse, than betting on baseball games. It’s illegal, and it’s cheating. Players should not get second chances, let alone a fourth or fifth chance. If a player gets caught once, his reputation is in tatters, but he still gets to play the game. If a player is caught betting on baseball, he gets suspended for life even if he’s betting for his own team to win. If the point of these rules is for baseball to set a moral example, than the penalty for first-time offenders in both cases should be the same. Those who cheat should not be allowed to play the game.

I will applaud Major League Baseball and the Players’ Association for addressing this problem in the span of about six weeks since the BALCO story broke. But this should not be the end of it. Baseball should seriously consider banning amphetamines, and those running the game and the union should be willing to accept harsher penalties for steroid users. Baseball is, after all, America’s game, and baseball should be teaching Americans that cheating gets you no where.