RADOMSKI’S LOUNGE – All these years later, I am still puzzled by many people’s anger.
I had my initial thoughts on the matter of performance enhancing drugs nearly seven years ago after a Sports Illustrated story began to (finally) highlight the use of steroids in baseball.
I remember saying that if they are just coming to this realization now, where have they been the last 7 years?
Simply put, I refuse to believe that everyone involved in the game was simply taking a very long nap while this “evolution” of the game was taking place over the decade that saw cartoon characters masquerading around as Major League Baseball players.
Years ago, I did not care.
Years later, I still do not care.
So here are we are again, with another potential future Hall of Fame player testing positive for masking his use performance enhancing drugs and tainting his career forever.
Manny Ramirez did not fit the "profile" of a steroid user. But how do we define exactly what that "profile" is?
We have definitely had enough years or circumstantial and factual evidence to know that these users came in all shapes and sizes whether they are young and old, it really does not matter.
A rather sizable percentage of the public is outraged, unbelieving that some of these players would resort to cheating in order to enhance their own performance as a means to stay in the league if they are not good enough. They are looking for any means of hanging on to make a few extra million, or seeking out that big payday if they put up the right numbers.
One by one they have fallen. A-Rod, Manny, Palmeiro, McGwire, Bonds, Sosa and Clemens all now members of the All-Juiced Up team that are a few more great players short of fielding a Steroid Starting 9. It has become another fraternity where admission is only granted once a positive test or a blind denial despite whatever overwhelming evidence may exist.
Yet, for years, this brought uproar from the public. Anger and resentment for these players and other cheats who all succeeded in beating the system for as long as they could and became handsomely paid through their hard…err…enhanced work.
Still though, in ballparks all over the country, there was this outrage and the feelings that people were being cheated out of a game that they presumed was legitimate that was now nothing more than fantasyland.
Baseball now suddenly took on the feeling as if Vince McMahon and the WWE were in control.
How can people really be surprised?
Did it not strike people as a little odd that when players were coming to camp in the spring suddenly 15 to 30 pounds heavier? When asked about the gain, they would attribute it to such things as Flintstones vitamins, the discarding of McDonalds and GNC supplements.
Hello! Anyone home? Should that have sent out an alarm?
The alarm rang, but everyone continued to hit the snooze button. Everyone inside the game knew what was going on, but it was a little secret.
Hell, why not? Players were juiced up. Home runs were flying out of parks. Attendance was up. Baseball owners were making a lot of money and the players themselves were getting fat contracts because of this.
Problem? What problem?
Seeing this, it left me with one simple thought:
“I don’t care.”
Consider me not a champion for morality, but the bottom line is that these guys want to shoot themselves up, go right ahead. At the end of the day, if doing that can help their performance and in turn help my team (or teams) win, I am perfectly fine with it.
I am not the one that is being hurt. The players are.
Baseball players are not doing anything that we ourselves as everyday citizens would not do. This double standard that we placed on baseball, making them the bastion of good behavior went out of the door a long time ago.
Also, this is still ENTERTAINMENT. No different than an Sly Stallone trying to jack himself up so he play the role of Rambo and Rocky and make another 30 million despite nearing the age where most old men are not taking punches to the head in a boxing ring or running through the woods.
If you told me that I could take some supplements that would make me 50% better at my job and eventually lead to a promotion or a better job that will eventually improve my salary and lifestyle, I would take it in an instant considering that despite the health risk, the reward will always outweigh it.
Mind you, not everyone dies or suffers life-threatening conditions from this stuff unless they seriously abuse it. Those people I have no sympathy for. But given the choice, and then to add to it that I would have the ability to prevent being caught with this stuff in a test.
Sign me up!
There is not one person in this world that can honestly look at themselves in the mirror and say to themselves that they have done everything 100 percent clean. Whether it is in our personal or professional life, we are looking for an edge to get ahead. Yet now, we put up a red flag when a professional ball player does it.
Does that not seem a little hypocritical?
If I am not 100 percent clean, I cannot get angry or show rage towards a player who stick a needle in his ass so he can boost his power numbers by a sizable amount. In the end, if his new and improved self can be a benefit to both the team and to him, then all the better.
Much has been made about the records and I threw out my care for them the minute Barry Bonds hit his 73rd home run. It was going to be difficult for me to believe that Roger Maris home run mark of 61 back in 1961, which stood for 37 years, was now going to be toppled seven times over four seasons by three players.
This was made worse when even smaller players were becoming big time sluggers. How the hell did Bret Boone, a puny second baseman with minimal power for the Cincinnati Reds and the Atlanta Braves, suddenly turn into a near 40-homer player overnight?
The list of players goes on. Greg Vaughn, Luis Gonzalez, David Ortiz and Shawn Green were middle of the road players with average (or in some cases, below average) power magically morphing into home run beats.
Let us not be naïve here.
No team is clean. If someone wants to tell you that their clubhouse was pure, tell them to get a clue.
104 players failed the drug test that precipitated testing in the big leagues. Simple math bring that to an average of at least three players per team that failed. Not even considering that the percentage is fairly high that countless others had good enough money to mask their use and pass the test.
It is no different than people in their normal life trying to hide their drug use when their employer comes around with the little cup.
In the end, most of the paying public is really not going to care despite their admissions that they do.
If a report came out that a certain team had all of its players flunk a drug test two years ago, you think they would stop going to the games assuming their team was pretty good?
The answer: No.
The fans really don’t care about this. Not out of morality, but out of laundry.
It is why I don’t care either.
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