It was the summer of 1998 and baseball yearned for magic, a magic that was supplied by two sluggers, Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire. They chased a single-season home run record. McGwire won.
Or did he? On Thursday, Sosa and McGwire were back on stage, though a different stage. They appeared at the congressional hearings on steroid use in baseball. Sosa testified under oath that he competed fairly in that season when he hit 66 home runs. Sosa told Congress he has never used performance-enhancing steroids.
And McGwire? He wouldn’t say … But all the world today reads in his silence an admission that he did, indeed, use steroids that year when he hit 70 home runs and took the title.
And there is the problem staring at baseball. Competition in recent years has been based on a fraud, a fraud that has come to haunt the sport.
This has been baseball’s off-season of shame. After years of whispers and rumors about who has been bulking up with what illegal substance, the sport has at last been forced to confront its steroid-induced past.
Former slugger Jose Canseco released a tell-all book about steroids in baseball. Jason Giambi of the New York Yankees offered a blanket apology to fans, teammates and the news media after a published report claimed he admitted steroid use to a federal grand jury. That same grand jury is investigating the Bay Area Laboratory Co-operative in California, allegedly a center of illegal steroid distribution.
Thursday’s hearing provided some of baseball’s darkest hours. There was the sight of big-leaguers in suits hauled before Congress, forced to testify under oath. There were baseball executives offering lame excuses about how steroid usage grew on their watch. Rarely have so many bosses seemed so out of touch.
During the hearing, several congressmen voiced skepticism about baseball’s new drug-testing policy and said they were poised to implement a tougher standard on the sport.
Congress should not be entertaining the imposition of rules on baseball. This is baseball’s mess, and baseball is best positioned to clean it up. But baseball, after that performance on Thursday, has to recognize that it has suffered real damage and that its incremental steps to rid the game of steroids don’t go far enough.
Under Major League Baseball’s new drug-testing plan, players receive a 10-day ban for a first offense. Only after a fourth positive test would a player receive even a one-year suspension, and a fifth test would lead to discipline determined by the commissioner. It’s not even clear if a player would be banned for life.
Here’s a thought for the players and owners as they discuss a new policy. Take the most elemental rule of baseball and apply it to those who fail a drug test. Strike one–a year suspension. Strike two–a two-year suspension.
Three strikes–you’re out.
