For full disclosure's sake, I can hardly call myself a true baseball fan. I did not grow up watching World Series games past my bedtime, nor did I listen to the voices of Vin Scully and Ernie Harwell... or even Joe Buck. I only owned one MLB video game (MLB 2000), whose only saving grace was the uber-awesome home run contest, where I managed to ride Corey Koskie to victory ad infinitum. In fact, during Mark McGwire's record-breaking season, I was living in England, happily drinking tea and watching Teletubbies.
However, I must admit that I truly felt something when Mark McGwire announced today that he had been taking steroids throughout his career. Actually, scratch the word announced... confirmed fits better in this situation. It's not as if he was revealing any new information, seeing as for years the court of public opinion held McGwire guilty.
It's difficult to quantify my feeling, though.
Is it surprise? I can't say I'm surprised at this admission. He needed to come clean some day.
Is it disappointment? Can't honestly say that, either. I never was emotionally betrothed to the idea of a squeaky-clean McGwire belting homers over the Gateway Arch.
Is it wrath? No. Hell no. That is one emotion I am certainly not experiencing. See, while many may be embittered by McGwire shattering their hopes and dreams, I simply can't be upset at someone who was trying to stay relevant in his profession.
Am I betrayed? Only by the fact that he waited so long to tell everybody.
See, while many people are saying that McGwire is evil for using steroids (and I seriously hope those people come down on themselves if they have ever used illegal substances like marijuana or performance-enhancing measures like caffeine), I'm turning the other cheek. The fact of the matter is *deep breath* that Mark McGwire's using of steroids to amass his 583 career home runs is, essentially, irrelevant.
What people really need to see is that performance-enhancement has been going on in baseball since the very beginning. Pud Galvin, the legendary old pitcher, allegedly drunk monkey testosterone before games. Babe Ruth had to miss a series because of an improper injection. Even Hank Aaron, the supposed "true" home run king, admitted to using methamphetamine.
If you took everybody out from the Hall of Fame who used performance-enhancing substances, Cooperstown would be an awfully lonely place. The only members would be Mario Mendoza and that shortstop from the Connecticut little league team.
What I'm saying is that by taking steroids, McGwire was really only echoing the actions of his predecessors and peers. The way I see it, McGwire is being unduly punished simply because of the advantages afforded by the advanced chemistry in the modern era. If Joe DiMaggio was given vials of Human Growth Hormone, would he inject them in his ass? Absolutely. In fact, when McGwire used steroids, they weren't being tested for in baseball. It's almost as if critics are trying to dig McGwire a hole with a plastic spoon.
So you want to strike every single one of McGwire's home runs off the record book? Okay. Be prepared to strike off every single Cardinals victory, though, because he surely contributed. Oh, and if his opponents had one steroid-using player, let's eliminate them too. Why don't you just eliminate every single game of baseball played since 1980? I don't care if you ruin the game's credibility, these players were bad!
In the end, baseball should--and will--stick with Barry Bonds' 762 and 73 as their magic home run numbers. Mark McGwire will keep his 583 home runs. Baseball's ghosts of "cheaters" past will rest in peace. In the end, though, McGwire should hold his head up high for being one of the few honest men about their use of performance-enhancing substances.
In the end, all I'm feeling is relief. Relief that McGwire finally stepped out from behind the smoke and mirrors charade that baseball continues to unjustly hide behind. Relief that he's admitting to what every player would do. Relief that humanity is finally willing to stop their false righteousness and admit reality.
