It's time for me to chime in with my take on steroids and baseball, because my opinion on such matters is what sets the moral compass of the nation. Of course, I'm probably the only person I know that even cares about this stuff, so I doubt anyone reading this will even care about my opinion. But if a blog isn't the place for meaningless opinions, then what is?
I'm finding it incredibly difficult to be morally outraged over this steroid scandal. Maybe it's because I've grown up in a jaded time where the poor behaviour of others, especially athletes and entertainers, fails to shock or even register with me. But the main reason why I'm not shocked or appalled at the allegations currently leveled at Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa, et al, is that it's too late to be all morally outraged now. Because we knew. We all knew, but didn't want to know. But subconsciously, back when power numbers were being put up at astonishing frequency, back when Sammy and Big Mac re-engerised interest in baseball, and Bonds came around a few years later, we knew.
We knew something was up back then, but chose not to worry about it. We chose to ooh and ahh over all the moonshots, to start caring again about baseball after the strike, all the while ignoring what our own eyes and minds were telling us. Baseball players starting looking like football players, the game started to become all about the three-run homer, and we didn't care. And now we can be indignant? Because a washed-up hack wrote a book and Congress decided to act?
I told myself back then that it didn't necessarily have to be steroids. The modern baseball player works out a LOT more than his counterpart did in the past. There's more than enough legal, over-the-counter supplements to make ballplayers big. Most players took Creatine. Mac was caught doing Andro. So, it didn't have to be steroids. But it was something, we all knew it. We said the balls were juiced (and they may have been), the parks were certainly made more hitter-friendly, but it was obvious that the players were juiced too. At least some of them.
So when the evidence and confessions started pouring in, Ken Caminiti and Jose Canseco, I merely shrugged and said "of course". Anyone who didn't was fooling themselves far more than the players were. So it's hard for me to now act outraged and start talking about baseball with disdain and suggest that we asterisks records and keep the cheaters out of the Hall.
Here's the thing: steroids weren't against the rules in baseball. The was no testing policy. This isn't Ben Johnson trying not to get caught. Had baseball caught Canseco, there's nothing they, under their own rules, could have done to him. So to suggest that their records and careers no longer count because they were on the outside of the rules of the game is wrong. Wrong for the simple fact that we have no idea how far this goes back. Yes, it's obvious that steroid use was more prevalent in the past few years, as players are bigger than they used to be, we have no way of knowing that current Hall of Famers from the sixties and seventies hadn't used them. We have no way of knowing Cal Ripken Jr never used them. The argument that these players should be kept out is that they weren't on a level playing field with everyone else. But we don't know that. What if the majority of Major Leaguers were on the juice? Then Bonds' and Jason Giambi's numbers are legitimate because the playing field is mostly juiced to begin with.
Measured against history, their numbers should be given less weight than the numbers of players past, but not prohibitively. Because players of the past have had advantages at times as well. They didn't have to travel as far, didn't compete against black players, didn't have the designated hitter. We know certain offensive numbers were hurt in the Dead Ball Era, just as pitching statistics were inflated. We already knew that modern numbers were inflated due to expansion and ballparks, steroids are just another factor.
Of course, there are some that hold on to the belief that steroids don't help in baseball anyway. The argument is that they don't help with the bat speed and control and hand-eye coordination necessary to hit a 90 mph fast ball. Which is true, but misses the point altogether. Yes, I could take all the steroids in the world, and I still wouldn't be able to do squat on a ball diamond (well, besides actually squatting. That I could do). What steroids do is increase strength and endurance. Thus, players already gifted with bat speed and the ability to hit, now have extra muscle to put behind that speed and ability. Thus, balls that used to be pop flies become home runs. Endurance is also key, because the baseball season is a grueling 162 game affair played over the course of about 4.5 months. A player on the juice won't tire out as easily as one not on it. To put it simply, if steroids didn't help players play baseball better, why on Earth would they be taking them?
I'm glad that something is finally being done to prevent the use of steroids, because I hate the idea that one had to use them (or something like them) to compete. This is why it is a good thing that Congress got involved, not to clean up the Major Leagues, but to stop it from spreading to little leagues. So high school players looking to reach the majors don't feel compelled to put their bodies at risk to do so. I want the Majors to be cleaned up as well; I want to feel better about the numbers I see being put up, but still can't get all worked up about the numbers that were put up. Luckily, my favourite player is Ichiro, and it's obvious that that guy isn't on steroids.