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The Ornery American Sports Writer
Commissioner's Pet
By Chris Bellamy October 8, 2004

The word is out: It's okay to use steroids--as long as you say you're sorry

I saw Gary Sheffield with the devil.

It's true! He was standing right there with Goody Proctor and Abigail Williams. Yes, Mr. Selig, I confess it. It was me! I took the steroids. I wrote a personal check to BALCO. But it wasn't my fault, I tell you! I didn't know they were steroids, I swear it! They didn't tell me! It's not my fault!

So the truth comes out at last. Well, okay, not the whole truth--but a little taste at least. Here's what we know: Gary Sheffield, one of a handful of players not named Barry Bonds to be implicated in the BALCO scandal, did use steroids. It's a fact. It's on record now, straight from the horse's mouth. After previously having denied any wrongdoing in the matter, Sheffield now acknowledges that he did, in fact, use two substances from BALCO that contained steroids--including the infamous "the clear," the previously undetectable THG. Only here's the catch: Sheffield says he didn't know he was using steroids. He says they didn't tell him. It was all an accident. An innocent goof. A snafu, even. Sheffield says all he was trying to do was aid his recovery from workouts, but--Whoopsie Daisy!--he accidentally loaded himself up with illegal steroids instead.

I believe a one-armed man was prominently involved as well.

Anyway, that was the story he sold to MLB Commissioner Bud Selig this week. I took steroids, it was an accident, I'm sorry. End of story. And what did Sheffield get for it? I know what you're thinking--the old "slap on the wrist" hyperbole again, right? I wish. No, a slap on the wrist would probably be too harsh for ol' Bud. No, Sheffield got nothing in the way of punishment. That's right, nothing. No fines, no suspensions . . . although, to be fair, the old hug-and-a-handshake may have factored in somewhere. But that's between the two of them.

As I read the reports when they came out, I asked myself, Does this man's cowardice know no bounds? I don't mean to harp on a point I've already made several times already, but Selig won't let me shutup about it. He just keeps on stepping in it.

Of course Gary Sheffield won't be penalized. Why would he? Why would Selig ever want to crack down on one of the biggest controversies the sport has ever seen? Why would Selig want to take responsibility as commissioner of baseball?

What can I do, he might ask. In the words of Vito Corleone, "You can act like a man!"

While traipsing around the issue at hand, Selig has repeatedly said that baseball needs to come down hard on steroid users, that baseball needs to "make a statement." Baloney. And if you had any doubt of his cowardice before, this latest blunder should wipe it all away. If Selig really wanted to make a statement, he would. And, now that I think about it, I guess he has. The message is: Just come clean about it, admit you used steroids, say it was an accident, and you're off the hook. (Yeah, Bud, I've read The Crucible, too. Lovely how that turned out.) Of course, being a member of the New York Yankees doesn't hurt, either--but I won't open that can today.

I wonder if Pete Rose could get away with just such a similar confession. Oh, Mr. Selig, yes I did bet on baseball! But it wasn't my fault! I thought it was college football, not baseball--they didn't tell me! I thought I was picking the Cincinnati Bearcats to beat the Pittsburgh Panthers. Not Reds over Pirates! What a flighty little nitwit I was! Silly me!

. . .ya think?

Meanwhile, the Chicago Cubs fined Sammy Sosa $87,400 this week for leaving the Cubs' season finale early. He left the dugout, got dressed and took off before the game even ended. The Cubs, not intimidated by the clout levied by their biggest superstar, did what they had to do. Despite the inevitable pouting, arguing, and appeals process, they took immediate action--and good for them. Sosa violated a team rule. He should be penalized. Period.

But let me get this straight: Sosa gets a five-figure bill for leaving a game early, and Sheffield gets, um, nothing for taking steroids? (Oops, sorry, "unknowingly" taking steroids. My bad.) I mean, nothing?! Really?

It's true--under the new collective-bargaining steroid rules, there isn't any set policy regarding steroid abuse before the new agreement was enacted. And no doubt Selig is using that as a crutch--an excuse for not bringing the hammer down on Sheff. But the commissioner of baseball does, in fact, have the authority to fine or suspend a player at his discretion. He has the power to ban a player for life. No, before you ask, I'm not suggesting that Sheff be banned for life--far from it. I'm not even suggesting a suspension for these playoffs. Don't do anything for the playoffs, fine! All I'm asking for is something. A five-game suspension at the beginning of next season. A major fine. I don't care. Just something.

It shouldn't even matter whether or not Sheffield's telling the truth about his "accidental" steroid use. It simply doesn't matter. There's no way of knowing whether or not he--or anyone else--is telling the truth, and that shouldn't be the commissioner's job anyway. Personally, if I was trying to be clean--as Sheffield alleges--and received alleged nutritional supplements from a seemingly legitimate source--as Sheffield alleges--and it turned out that they had actually given me steroids--!!!--I don't know about you, but I'd be suing the pants off those people. Wouldn't you? Sheffield's response? "I was mad," was the direct quote.

I was mad . . .sounds innocent to me.

Regardless, let's say we give him the benefit of the doubt. Let's say he was duped. Still, on both occasions Sheffield was still too irresponsible to find out what he was putting into, or onto, his body. All he had to do was check, and make sure they were steroid-free. But he didn't.

Once again, we find a contrast with the NFL and Paul Tagliabue. When a few NFL stars--notably budding superstar Julius Peppers--tested positive for ephedra, which had only recently been banned by the league, Peppers and all the rest claimed it was an accident. They said it was an over-the-counter drug, and they hadn't known they were taking ephedra.

Tagliabue's response? Tough cookies. Peppers (among others) was suspended four games--or 25 percent of the season. Them's the rules--you break `em, you pay the price. BECAUSE THAT'S HOW THE WORLD WORKS. Can you imagine Selig ever suspending a player for 1/4 of the MLB season? Of course not--he won't even do it for 1/162nd of the season. If Sheffield can get away with "it was an accident," anyone can. And they will.

So Sheff gets a free pass. You know, for the last year or two, I've been waiting and waiting for each piece of damning steroid evidence against Barry Bonds. He's crooked, and we all know he's crooked. And, much as I curse the Babe, I don't want Bonds to bass Ruth or Hank Aaron on the home-run list, even though I know the former, at least, is inevitable. But if and when the evidence does come out, I wonder: Do you think Selig will, I don't know, dock Bonds' pay for a game or two--or do you think Barry will get a full pardon?

It would be nice to believe that Bonds would get his due punishment. It would be nice to believe that. But who am I kidding?

Copyright © 2004 by Chris Bellamy

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CAN I HAVE A WORD?
First off, my apologies for my recent absence. I had a column half-ready for last week, and then my laptop broke, and it's now in the shop getting fixed. Getting to a computer has been troublesome. But now that all my other obligations and responsibilities are also finally in steady order, the columns will be one per week from now on.

As for the MLB postseason festivities, I must confess I have a deep inner conflict. By mere superstition, I can't pick a World Series champion. For those of you who have read my columns and know my particular allegiance, this should come as no surprise. I cannot pick the Red Sox to do anything because it will only jinx them. And don't take this lightly. It will jinx them. Period. I can't "pick" them to beat the Angels, I can't "pick" them to win the ALCS, and let's not even talk about the Series. In fact, my buddy Adam and his family have begun to refer to it as "That Which We Don't Speak Of," and I believe I shall follow suit.

That said, I also can't pick against the Sox, so I will simply remain silent. Here is what I can say with relative certainty. No one in the NL can beat the Cardinals--all of you know this already. It's a sure bet to see them in That Which We Don't Speak Of. As for the American League, no, the Grady Little...er, Ron Gardenhire Minnesota fiasco in New York did not surprise me. Not one bit. And mark my words--that twelfth-inning rally ended the series. It's over, people.

More in-depth thoughts will be posted in next week's column. Until then, here are a few:

1) Listen up, ESPN and FOX. Let's make a new rule. It's called: Never, under any circumstances, use the spring-training camera angle during a live game. Just don't do it. Instant replays, fine. But NEVER during a live pitch. I can't emphasize this enough.

2) I must admit, though it won't happen, the thought of beating the pulp out of Roger Clemens in That Which We Don't Speak Of makes me excited in a very unhealthy way.

3) Don Baylor appears to be the top choice for the Phillies' vacant managerial spot. Someone please explain this to me.

4) Manny for MVP. If only because he's been one of the top five hitters in baseball for a solid decade, and nobody seems to have noticed. His year-to-year stats are just stupid.

5) Johan Santana is the obvious choice for the AL Cy Young, and in the NL I've gotta go with Randy Johnson, despite the 16-14 record (zero run support). He was simply the best pitcher in baseball this season. I weeded out all the other candidates. Clemens was great, but his first half was the real story. Jason Schmidt faded a bit down the stretch. Roy Oswalt's ERA is too high. And Carl Pavano dumped Alyssa Milano. Johnson's the easy choice.

6) No, I didn't watch Hustle and I hope you didn't, either. Yes, I am going to see Friday Night Lights this weekend.

7) Every time I see a new ad for Desperate Housewives, I feel like I need to go call a priest....but that doesn't mean I'm not gonna watch.

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