BACK IN 1997It was my second year as a Cubs fan. I can still vividly recall the moment Mark McGwire came in to bat for the Cardinals. It was Awesome. I watched the ball fly and was stunned. It was like watching a horror movie before we realized how bad things could get.
As time went by, doubts began to seep into the clubhouses. There was suspicion that a teammate who beat you is not playing fair. Records were no more than placeholders. Each home run that was a little too long brought down a hitter’s integrity. We lost faith in the game and, worse, our belief in its power. It was still eroding even after the fans returned post-strike.
As the deadline for Barry Bonds to withdraw from the ballot of the Baseball Writers Association of America was near, I thought a lot about those days. As I began to read more about Bonds’ historic necessity of being in the Hall, even before last week’s announcement, I began to worry that he might actually be allowed into the Hall. This was not just about Bonds. It was about many highly productive players of my era, many of whom used PEDs.
Before the vote was announced, I pictured a parade PED players stepping up to the podium to share their stories. They were an important force in the downfall of so many straight-forward players. Congratulations?
The same feeling of powerlessness that I felt when faced with an opponent who had an unfair advantage was also present. This time it was mixed together with the disorientation of not knowing where to direct my frustration. I was unable to take it out upon a baseball. Instead, I could only swing for ghosts.
It was frustrating to see so many sports’ greatest stars tweet their dismay at the vote that kept Bonds from being elected. I realized something that many of them didn’t have to. Lines are drawn differently when you are directly affected by this rampant cheating. You are directly impacted by this cheating, not just theoretically but also in your contract negotiations.
It’s one thing watching artificial fertilization on TV and marveling at its results as if it were magic. It’s quite another to lose your job because of it.
I managed to forget my anger over the comments and tweets. I came up with the following question: How do we celebrate someone who clearly used unfair advantages to win?
These men should be enshrined. Why? A better pharmacist
THE MOST COMMON Argument for including PED users into the Hall is that it’s impossible to ignore the past. And trust me, I’m not a fan of the romanticism of the game’s origins. My playing career was marked by my awareness that those who looked like me would not be able to participate in the history. There are probably players in the Hall today who used PEDs, and they get away with it. Yes, there were players in the Hall that took amphetamines. Their behavior would not have been consistent with the current policies. Why should that stop us being better?
All of us agree that the Hall of Fame serves as a museum and tells the whole story. However, it is also an honorific. There should be a distinction between being recognized in The Hall of Fame or being honored by it. I am represented in Baseball Hall of Fame. Or at least that is what my senior thesis was from college. Does that mean I am a Hall of Famer now? I’m not sure my.277 average and 59 runs scored would have earned me into the Hall of Fame. That is fine by me.
This distinction could be made for those who used PEDs, and had a record-setting effect. We can create an exhibit or a wing to honor PED users. It is important to acknowledge our entire history, good and bad. As I am with my paper, they could be in the Hall as a fixture or as recognition of their accomplishments. But, I don’t see why they would need a plaque.
Different criteria should be used to decide what we celebrate, and what we enshrine. We can’t treat induction into Hall of Fame as just historical graduation. There is no automatic entry into Hall, even though the numbers are recorded in the books.
This is how society frames history too often: The winners tell the stories, and they end up on the pedestal. However, how they get there is important. If we place PEDs on a pedestal it will be one with bricks that are etched with the names and stories of many other players who have followed them.
Bonds broke every record against another player. Bonds had to face pitchers the same way Roger Clemens had to face hitters. The fact that many baseball players, myself included, had to constantly try to beat people with a constant advantage is something I cannot ignore simply because their final numbers made my eyes pop out of my head.
To do so would be to ignore the time I spent playing the 2000-2002 seasons with my father in and out of hospital. I chose to do this without taking PEDs, despite the fact that I wanted to regain my form from 1999. Or when I was injured during a free agent year. After surgery, I used weight training and underwater workouts to get back my form. Like many players, my style is scrappy, combative, and I age.
Bonds aren’t the only one affected. It wasn’t just Bonds. Many of the players who were part of the steroid era — which was also the time I had my own professional career — bullied others to boost their stats. Although it is often portrayed as a competitive spirit or a constant will to win, it was really just egomaniacal greed, unleashed to alleviate the same insecurity felt by every major league player.
Many of these players are argued by their supporters that they would have been Hall of Famer if they had not taken PEDs. I’ve always doubted that anyone would know when or if a player took PEDs. More importantly, if you make a decision that artificially alters your performance or your future, it can color your past. It doesn’t matter if it’s fair.
Without the stuff, it’s hard to imagine what these enhanced players would do and be like. In 1991, I was one pick ahead of Manny Ramirez who some consider the “greatest right-handed batter of all time.” Perhaps he was, maybe he deserved being drafted ahead me. It didn’t mean that I failed two tests or missed 150 games. I’m not sure what kind of hitter he would be without the pills. No one does. It’s like comparing apples to oranges when you pick Ramirez over me. In the end, we weren’t playing the same sport. It was great for him, he earned his money and won world championships. He is a shining example of what our sport can do. It is up to you to answer this question.
I BELIEVE THE The Hall of Fame and the BBWAA (its voting body for enshrinement) have been placed in an impossible situation. It is a difficult task to judge each generation of players and match them against other eras. They also have to navigate barriers such as racism, exclusion, or economic depression. But today, attempting to see through the fog of performance-enhancing drugs, it is as difficult as it has ever been for these voters.
Nearly a decade back, I served on a task team with the United States Anti-Doping Agency. I was evaluating a report about youth sports in order to find out what makes it enjoyable for young people to participate in the sport. Tom Murray, an ethicist, was also in the group. His words stuck with me. “You reward what your value.”
We should base the induction of players into the Hall on our values if we want to reward them. We are the ones responsible for deciding the difference between greatness and consequentiality. Jackie Robinson was one of those players who had to play both on and off the pitch. Doug Glanville could be both on the field and off it, but still be important. It was his gift for us all.
It shouldn’t be easy to get in, even if the Hall’s shrine is an amazing and unique place. Really difficult.
The Hall of Fame can feel toothless if you are able to cheat your way in. We don’t believe that some people do not want the Hall’s moral lecturing, character clauses or other stipulations. ShouldYou want to state that standards are not only for calculators. To understand why we celebrate, we should have some understanding of the context. We will make mistakes, I admit — probably already have — but it is important to continue fighting for principles and be open to learning and adapting, rather than doubling down on steroid use because it was so pernicious and pervasive that people decided to quit.
The Hall is not the only determinant of value. It shouldn’t. While most of us won’t be able to get in, that doesn’t mean we didn’t have valuable and worthy careers. We will have to determine what it means. However, I hope that the answer pushes PEDs back, and not opens up the door wider.
This dilemma will continue to be faced by the Hall for as long it exists. The steroid debate will continue, even with Bonds and Clemens out. Alex Rodriguez just completed his first round voting. This means that we will continue to discuss this topic until my group, or until the next scandal. Voters will keep changing the priorities as they move in and go out. They might decide that idolization should stop and they just need to focus on the past. This is not necessarily a bad idea. We can’t escape the cold, hard truth that Tom Murray has urged us to face. In a conversation with me this week, he said that anything that would undermine the relationship between excellence and the best attributes in an athlete should not be considered success. You celebrate something that has nothing whatsoever to do with excellence or competition in sport, when you subvert the meaning of fair competition.
It speaks volumes about our sport by how we select for the highest honor in this sport. It will be interesting to see how it turns out. In the meantime, if you’re ever in Cooperstown, make sure to check the archives for my paper. My name is there.
It is important that it was actually written.