Hate Mail: The right thinks I'm right? Sort of
Just like that, steroids are back in baseball. Just in time for the World Series.
Thanks, Tony La Russa. Thank you for letting this happen.
Again.
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| Tony La Russa and Mark McGwire go way back to the bad old 'roid days. (Getty Images) |
So, no. I don't blame Mark McGwire for coming back -- I blame Cardinals manager Tony La Russa for letting him come back. For urging him to come back. Near as I can tell, for tying his own return to St. Louis to McGwire's return as well.
After more than a week of waffling whether to return himself, La Russa announced he was coming back -- with one change to his staff: Hal McRae is out as hitting coach. Mark McGwire is in. That's not a coincidence. I can't prove this hypothesis, but I'm going to postulate it anyway. La Russa told the Cardinals that it would be a package deal: You want me back? Only if Big Mac can come, too. After a week of dithering, everyone involved finally said yes.
So McGwire is back, which means steroids are back. Not that steroids ever left the game, but after a series of public outings that included Alex Rodriguez, Sammy Sosa and Manny Ramirez, the last big-name player to be linked to steroids was David Ortiz in late July. That was three months ago, but since then it has been quiet. For three months, steroids have been out of the baseball conversation, if not out of baseball.
But now steroids are back. Mark McGwire is back. The two are synonymous, of course. Mark McGwire and steroids are linked together like "bowel" and "movement." You can't think of one word without thinking of the other. Well, I can't. Maybe I'm obsessed with bowel movements.
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I know I'm obsessed with La Russa's role in the Steroid Era. La Russa, with his law degree, is one of the most educated men in baseball, so he's a pretty smart guy. Roaming his 1990s Oakland clubhouses were monsters like McGwire and Jose Canseco, guys whose bodies were bursting out of their uniforms. McGwire was superhuman for La Russa in St. Louis, hitting home runs at a higher level than anyone ever had. This was happening as steroids were happening all over sports, and as whispers were reaching a crescendo that steroids were happening in baseball as well. And to this day, La Russa says he didn't see it. Steroids? In his clubhouse? La Russa didn't know.
Which means he's stupid. But he's not stupid. We all know he's smart.
Which means he's lying. But he's not lying. Or is he? Who knows, but those are the only options here. Either La Russa was stupid then, or he's lying now. If you can think of another option, I'm all ears. Until then, those are my choices.
And now the great enabler is doing it again. La Russa is letting this stain on the game come back. Admittedly, steroid usage isn't grounds for a lifetime ban. This isn't a Pete Rose situation. McGwire has the right to come back if he so chooses.
But in St. Louis? For La Russa? It's just so galling. It's a graphic reminder of one of the worst eras in baseball, and make no mistake, McGwire wasn't just one of the cheaters. He was the big one -- he and Barry Bonds and, to a lesser extent, Sammy Sosa.
McGwire was the face of baseball as it came roaring back from the strike that killed the 1994 World Series -- but McGwire pushed the steroid snowball down the hill in '98 by brazenly placing that bottle of Androstenedione in his locker, where a reporter from the Associated Press noticed it. Where did baseball's steroid era truly begin? It began in Mark McGwire's locker, and look where it has taken the game: Players have lied to Congress. The greatest hitter (Bonds) and pitcher (Roger Clemens) of this era have been linked to steroids. Five of the top 11 home-run hitters of all time are sullied (Bonds, Sosa, McGwire, Rodriguez, Rafael Palmeiro).
McGwire led the way -- and now he's going to lead the hitters for St. Louis? I don't get it. La Russa says "the No. 1 reason he's here is to coach our hitters," but I don't believe that. La Russa could have convinced any number of proven hitting coaches to join him in St. Louis, where the fans are tremendous and the pitching coach is tremendous and Albert Pujols is tremendous and the NL Central is horrendous. It's the perfect combination, an almost surefire playoff spot on an annual basis. What hitting coach would say no? But La Russa reached into the recycling bin and pulled out Mark McGwire, whose instructional résumé is highlighted by some offseason work with Matt Holliday. Terrific.
This is a PR ploy meant to prop up McGwire's damaged reputation and Hall of Fame candidacy. That's not all it is, but that's the main thing it is. And while there are managers and cities in baseball where such a move could be marginally defended, La Russa is not that manager. And St. Louis is not that city. The history is too awful. The wound is too fresh.
