Suppose you went to a baseball game and a track meet broke out? It's not all that far-fetched, not in the figurative sense. Baseball surely is in danger of developing into what track and field has become, and that's not good. Not now it isn't.
There once was a time when I enjoyed nothing more than a track meet. Now, what would have excited me years ago – a Justin Gatlin covering 100 meters in 9.77 – doesn't, as Cole Porter wrote, thrill me at all. The first thought, true or not, fair or not, is: Was he juiced? Can't help it. There has been too much indelible taint on track's yardsticks.
Baseball could go through the same thing, and there may be no end to it. The game can drug test until the world runs dry of urine, but there still will be doubts. When players do something spectacular, red flags are going to wave as if it's May Day in Moscow.
Tomorrow, the St. Louis Cardinals and Albert Pujols arrive here for a Padres gathering, and he's worth the cost of a ticket. Problem is, mathematicians figure Pujols is on track to hit something like 80 home runs this season, which would push Barry Bonds' record of 73 into the produce aisle. Positively Bunyanesque. So? Get your red flags ready.
Personally, I don't think Pujols is juiced. He doesn't look it, but I'm not Clark Kent. He says he's been tested three times, all negative, but baseball, despite its noble inroads into pharmaceutical detection, doesn't test for human growth hormones, supposedly the mothers of all performance enhancers.
“It's human nature to be cynical,” Padres outfielder Dave Roberts says. “People don't like to be taken to the cleaners. I hope this isn't a trend, but it's hard for people to see things at face value. The negativity is a dark cloud over baseball. It's unfair to a guy like Albert, one of the bright spots in the game. I do hope this doesn't become track and field.”
So do I. But baseball, which turned its spineless back to steroids, etc, when it was hurting and welcomed the culprits, is the main perpetrator here, followed closely by the players union, which cares more about its members' wallets than livers. But we, not all, but we – i.e. the cynical media – aren't innocent.
We see a syringe under every locker, and while wrong, it's what we are – or maybe there's another reason so many national baseball writers have been following Bonds as if he's about to deal with loaves and fishes. He isn't chasing a record, only a myth. It's not a big deal, but it is, because it's Bonds, and how he may have arrived at the legend level.
“I think you guys are taking this steroid thing over the (top),” Pujols has been quoted as saying. “You still need to see the ball and hit it out of the park. Are steroids going to make you better? Who knows?”
Well, Big Al, we have an idea. I don't know what you mean by “better,” but if you play baseball and juice up, chances are you're going to see the ball better and maybe hit it out of the park better.
“Maybe he's being unfairly judged because of what's gone on,” says Padres closer Trevor Hoffman, who often has spoken out against drugs. “Too much has gone on now to have that trust. Obviously, you have to look at his division (the NL Central) and that every ballpark is a joke and he's getting pitched to. And he's in the prime of his life (26). He's not doing it at 35.
“I know Albert made that comment about seeing the ball and hitting the ball, but we have guys taking 40 home run seasons into 60 home run seasons. Until you find out what's inside a particular animal, you can't pass judgment, but your eyes don't deceive you. The quick answer is not going to come. Can people trust again? It's nice to have a policy in place, but I don't know if we can get the trust back with this policy. Let's start taking blood and tissue samples.”
Sounds like a job for “CSI: Baseball.” But the problem now is that we're taking the superb player into the equation, no matter how clean he is. When we think of Mays, Aaron, DiMaggio, Ruth, Clemente, Robinson and Gehrig, we don't think of juice, we think of greatness. That's a hell of a difference.
“This is not a good thing,” Padres CEO Sandy Alderson says. “I'm a little surprised by this, given our strong drug-testing program. There always are going to be exceptional human beings. I guess it's not surprising people are reacting with skepticism, given what we've gone through the last year or so. Hopefully, we'll get through it.”
Will we?
“We won't,” Hoffman predicts.
It's America, according to Padres owner John Moores.
“I have a theory,” Moores says. “America cares about the sanctity of baseball records, as opposed to what the kid down the street is taking. I'm more concerned with the kid down the street. I don't like this. I like the presumption of innocence.
“Americans are nuts about Americana. People hate the idea that Barry Bonds may have cheated. They know Aaron didn't. They know damn well Ruth didn't. It's kind of sweet.”
And, while on the subject of juice, definitely sour.
Nick Canepa: (619) 293-1397; nick.canepa@uniontrib.com
