Steroids, Part II - Anonymity and Accountability

We like to think that people should be held accountable for their negative actions.  No where is this more true than in professional sports.  In college sports, there have been instances of cheating by players and/or coaches in which the NCAA has ruled that the school must vacate wins from the season in which the incident occurred.

I have kicked that idea around in my head in the arena of Major League Baseball, with the help of my friend Jeff who first spurred an ongoing debate of how to deal with PED discoveries years after the tests were taken.  If we prove when these players tested positive for PEDs, can we take away wins from their team? 

It sounds feasible at first glance, but when you get down to it, there is no system set in the MLB that would be able to hold up this sort of legislature.  We discussed using the highly debated sabremetric, WAR.  WAR is meant to indicate how many wins a player would give his team over a bench player of a minor league call-up, for instance.  Because this stat technically credits players with a win, why can we not charge him wins if he tests positive for PEDs?  But can we change the past?

As with any theory, holes can be poked by the dozen.  But I'll still remember them winning the championship... I still remember when he hit 50 home runs...  And many times, such as this, the problem is not within the theory, it is within the practice.  Information on steroid users has come out in the past few years from tests taken as far back as 2001-2003.  Ten years later, we can't set a team two games back in their division when they've already won a pennant.

And this is why I love talking about this stuff, because one idea always leads to another.  Although, when you are trying to solve an unsolvable epidemic, pretty soon you're left sitting there, alone with your thoughts, feeling like you just blended together and threw back a pack of cigarettes, some pain killers and half a bottle of cheap whiskey.

We are scared of finding out who the real PED users are.  We are, and we should be.  What if they're our heroes?  What if someone like Justin Verlander or Albert Pujols was caught cheating?  

 

Sorry, bad example.  If I cause any sleepless nights because of those examples, I apologize.  But look, fact of the matter is, Lance Armstrong sold two books and millions upon millions of LiveStrong wristbands telling us how he overcame cancer and rode to seven Tour de France victories.  But what would shock us the most might be the sheer number of PED users.  

 

Somewhere between the first steroids post and now I've become a cynic, and I hope by the third part of this conversation I'll have flipped back.

 

Today I was reading up on the whole steroids issue, as its taken over the sports, especially baseball, culture entirely.  One guy used an example of the prisoner's dilemma to describe players' motivations for using PEDs.  Players aren't going to know if a guy on another team is doping for sure, but the sad reality is, the best way to deal with it is to start doping yourself.  If you know one guy's juiced, then you're going to, as this individual so eloquently put it, "pick the option that gives [you] the smallest chance you get screwed."

We're scared of the truth, yet we will speculate and speculate until there's six feet of soil between us and the fresh air.  So, considering no plan is without its flaws, here's what I propose as a solution.

Major League Baseball implements drug testing through the use of an outside company, as they have done.  This company will work out a hard timeline between the league and the players association.  Now, the way testing will work is that completely anonymous samples will be taken from every player on every team based on the timeline that has been constructed.  Let's say results come back, and someone on Team A has tested positive.  For the slate of games between this first test and the next scheduled test for Team A, their record will not be counted, nor will any player stats, and they will forfeit their ability to make any roster changes of any sort.

If the testing period is, for example, a span of 20 games for the team, then they will finish with a 142-game season despite still playing 162.  Winning percentage will not be affected in any way, and it is not like the team has just had time to rest and practice for 20 more days than their opponents.  As for the players' statistics and records, consider that to qualify for the batting title, or for the Cy Young award, you need a certain number of at-bats or a certain number of innings pitched.  If a position player loses 20 games, he loses about around 75 at-bats.  If a starting pitcher is out 20 games, they'll miss about four starts.

This system is understandably flawed, as is any.  It could turn out that every team in the majors has as least one player, and there could no stats at all for an entire year, who knows.  But consider what it could allow for.  Accountability from each individual player, and accountability from the whole organization.  Entire teams -- players, coaches, training staff, owners --  would be responsible for making sure their teams are clean and fair, able to play the full 162 games so they matter.  And this system wouldn't point directly at the cheaters, much to the delight of the A-Rods and Brauns of the world.  But best of all, with something like this in place, it gives us, the fans, and the media a chance to do what we do best.  Speculate.

 

The Steroid Era is no longer and "era."  You cannot stop it, you can only contain it.  There's always going to be some new advancement, some new medicine or drug to help players get that edge, but until there is a full-blown crackdown, those illegal substances will continue to rewrite the record books.

Scott Boras Wants to Open Training Facility for Only His Clients In Where Else...But Miami

It was just a week ago when a Miami-based company, Biogenesis, a well-known PED distributor, had divulged its client list containing names such as Alex Rodriguez and Ryan Braun.  In its wake, the story has left the baseball world shaken again, with fingers being pointed in all sorts of directions.

Who is trying to play hero in all of this?  Baseball's most notorious agent, Scott Boras.  He has outlined plans to open a multi-million dollar sports fitness center exclusively for his clients.

"We want to make sure we're making every effort to advance the credibility and understanding of what major league players must abide by and also to protect them from the influences of many of these supposed medical practitioners who are availing themselves to the players," Boras said.

And where is Boras planning on opening this facility?  The same city in which the latest steroid scandal has come out of.  Todd Berg of USA Today Sports wrote an article on Friday in which he says, "People often seem to hate Scott Boras for being very good at his job, but this is just Scott Boras being very good at his job again."

Is that what you would call this?  This wouldn't happen to be extremely selfish, controlling or just plain sketchy?  Of all the places in Florida, Arizona or California where baseball is played year round, you pick the same city that has the most recent ties to steroids?  And to be clear, this is a facility only for your players, Mr. Boras?  You really think that you are "making every effort to advance the credibility and understanding of major league players?"

No, you mean "your players."  Your money.  Boras is known to be hated in some baseball circles because he is always pushing the envelope, trying to squeeze every last dime from teams for his players.  This is not another edge that Boras can gain.  This is not his job.

Watching MLB Network today, Harold Reynolds sat back and offered a player like Felix Hernandez of the Mariners for his example.  The Mariners just made "King Felix" one of the highest paid pitchers in history, giving him a five-year, $135.5 million contract.  Do you think they would want a player like him going clear across the country to train at some facility with his agent?  I agree with Reynolds when he said that it is the team's responsibility at this point to get their doctors on him, their strength and conditioning coaches, their trainers. 

They are the ones spending the money, so it should be the team's choice as to where the player trains.  Is that so much to ask for when you are going to be paying that kind of money to one player?  If just one player gets caught for steroids, it impacts the entire franchise and shakes the entire league.  If Boras truly cared about the game, he would be working alongside the MLB, not going outside of it.

Steroids

This issue is never going to go away.  I've written about it a few times, but it gets tough to try and avoid the speculation and so many strong feelings and biases involved with the discussion.

Lance Armstrong has finally faded from news, thankfully, but just as that has happened, we get the newest chapter in baseball's ongoing steroid saga.  Names like Alex Rodriguez and Ryan Braun have come up again, this time in association with a known PED clinic.  Rodriguez is a third baseman for the New York Yankees who has admitted to using steroid for three years early in his career for the Texas Rangers.  Braun is an outfielder for the Milwaukee Brewers, who won the NL MVP in 2011 and two months later, tested positive for PEDs.  So both players have either admitted using PEDs or have tested positive for them, but what is one thing they've never had to deal with?

Missing a game due to suspension.

Major League Baseball's performance enhancing drug policy says that the first time a player is caught for steroids, he is suspended 50 games.  The second time, 100 games.  If he's dumb enough to try a third time, he is banned from the game.  Okay, so let me see here... A-Rod has admitted using steroids once, and his name has been linked to several PED suppliers.  Braun has been caught once and linked again a year later.  Yeah, this makes sense.

The thing that irks me about both of these players, is how they lie directly to our faces.  They look into a camera or an interviewer's face; they look directly into our living rooms and say, "you guys are all stupid for thinking we would cheat."  Are we?  Then why, year after year, is the evidence piling up against you?  I read a piece by Bill Simmons the other day on this very topic, and he has a great point when it comes this issue in baseball.

We ignored their swollen noggins and rippling biceps. We weren't fazed by seemingly inexplicable surges in production, or even something as fundamentally perplexing as a 37-year-old doubles hitter suddenly hitting 50-plus homers. We didn't just look the other way; we threw heavy burlap bags over our heads and taped our eyeballs shut. And because we never stepped up, those enterprising dickheads bastardized baseball and ruined one of its most sacred qualities: the wholly unique way that eight generations of players relate to one another through statistics and records.  -Simmons

It pisses me off that Braun won the MVP over Matt Kemp got caught cheating, and still got to keep the award.  The San Francisco Giants best hitter early in the season? Melky Cabrera.  And what happened to him for a 50 game stretch that resulted in him being left of the playoff roster?  Right.

I will never be a professional baseball player.  I don't know what they go through during their careers with the pressure, the media, injuries, slumps, you name it.  I don't know that I wouldn't take steroids if I had a chance at greater fame or success.  If it was in the cards and I had, for whatever reason, cheated in the game that I love, I wouldn't be standing at a podium, or sitting in front of a camera on 60 Minutes telling my fans, the world, that they are all idiots.

This issue provides a unique opportunity, however.  As this is clearly a multifaceted dilemma, I have a virtually unlimited number of chances to write about and debate this issue.  In the near future I plan to write about players that have been suspected of steroids, players who should be suspected of steroids, and possibly some different paths to take as far as disciplinary action is concerned, so stay tuned.

A Flat Tire on the Road to the Hall of Fame

Somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout.  But there is no joy in Cooperstown - every candidate has struck out.

For just the eighth time since 1945, there are no players entering into baseball's Hall of Fame.  A seven-time MVP*, a seven-time Cy Young winner* and 3,000-hit player are all on the outside looking in after their first year of eligibility.  What's that?  Oh, the asterisks?  Well, that's just how things go when it comes to baseball's legacy these days.

Twenty-six former Major League Baseball players received votes from the Baseball Writers Association of America (BBWAA), yet no one passed the 75 percent threshold required for immortality.  Five voting members submitted entirely blank ballots, and one member voted for starting pitcher Aaron Sele, who had a career .569 winning percentage.

Baseball has come a long way since it was known as the National Association of Base Ball Players in 1857.  It has gone through the Dead Ball Era of the early 1900s, racial integration in the 1940s and 50s, the Marketing Era of the 80s, a few lockouts and even "Disco Demolition" and "10 cent beer night."  But since the 1990s, baseball has been gridlocked in the Steroid Era.

A shadow has been cast over the past 20 years of the sport, making it all but impossible to disseminate cheaters from those who followed the rules.  Curt Schilling, a starting pitcher who received 221 votes (38.8 percent) in his first year of eligibility, made an interesting point saying, "Everyone was guilty, you either used [performance-enhancing drugs], or you did nothing to stop their use."  And he's right.

BALCO, the Mitchell Report, Greg Anderson and Victor Conte became household names, just like Mark McGwire, Rafael Palmeiro and Sammy Sosa.  Because of all the controversy, those three players only received a combined 38.2 percent of votes from the BBWAA.  Palmeiro still garnered 50 votes even after he was the first major player to be banned for PEDs in 2005.

But what matters now is not whether these players are guilty or not.  What truly matters is how many times they can get a check mark next to their name on the 569 ballots submitted by writers.  Craig Biggio topped the list this year with 388 votes, just 39 shy of entering the Hall.  Barry Bonds, current career home run king finished with 206 votes, and Roger Clemens, with 354 wins and 4,672 strikeouts (third all time) earned just slightly higher with 214.  Baseball is destined to go spinning around in circles for years to come, possibly even all 15 years of players' eligibility for some if they do not come up with a solution.

"With 53 percent you can get to the White House, but you can't get to Cooperstown," BBWAA secretary-treasurer Jack O'Connell said. "It's the 75 percent that makes it difficult."

There's problem number one.  It is understood that this is baseball immortality we're talking about here, but three-quarters of writers from all over the country having to agree on even one or two players seems a little ridiculous, doesn't it?  They're writers, there is going to be some bias whether they admit it or not.

Personally, I hate Bonds.  I think Jason Giambi crying to the media never actually mentioning the word "steroids" was the most embarrassing thing I've ever seen an athlete do.  I think Palmeiro was, and probably still is a terrible liar.  But I'd be lying through my teeth if I said as a kid, watching the home run race in 1998 wasn't the best summer of my eight-year-old life.  I had a McGwire poster next to my bed, a Sosa book sitting on my desk that I would show friends when they came over my house, and whenever I'd play wiffleball, you better believe I spun my hat around backwards like Ken Griffey Jr in the Home Run Derbies.

Its time to face the facts: what players in the Steroid Era did for baseball was incredible, and it was a completely new look the sport had never seen before.  Having the debate over the voting system or over whether or not certain players cheated could rage on for hours.  You can't please all the people all the time, which is why I'd like to see some compromises put in place.

So Bonds, you want to be in the Hall of Fame?  Then throw an asterisk next to  the number 754, not 762, and give Hank Aaron his crown back.  Clemens, how about you?  Then keep your stats and give back your Cy Young's, and we'll have your face cast in bronze.  McGwire, you fancy a trip to Cooperstown?  Admit that you used a substance that was legal at the time... Oh, wait a minute.
  
In the waning years of the Steroid Era, Cooperstown is feeling the effects more than any, and it looks like the small upstate New York town of 2,000 won't be getting any new citizens this year.  The bottom line is, if baseball wants to keep up this steroids witch hunt, it would be like fighting fire with fire and we might be seeing as many shutouts in January as we do in April.