Baseball drug testing hooks a big fish at last

America at Large: Outside the boundaries of Suffolk County, Massachusetts, St Patrick's Day is not a legal holiday in the US…

America at Large: Outside the boundaries of Suffolk County, Massachusetts, St Patrick's Day is not a legal holiday in the US, so on March 17th, while festivities were under way in Boston and New York, a parade of another sort was taking place in Washington, DC, and at the conclusion of the proceedings, Rafael Palmeiro might have been elected its Grand Marshal.

A congressional sub-committee investigating the preponderance of steroids in professional sport summoned a bevy of baseball stars past and present. Mark McGwire might have been stupid enough to leave a vial of androstenedione on show in his locker, but he wasn't so dumb he didn't realise the implications of committing perjury under oath.

While he didn't exactly confess, Big Mac stammered, wriggled, sweated and dodged direct questions that by day's end he stood convicted in the court of public opinion. The widespread conclusion was McGwire had effectively labelled himself a drug cheat.

Palmeiro's presence on the stand stood in contrast to McGwire's. No sooner had the Baltimore Orioles' first baseman been sworn than he confronted his interlocutor, Rep Tom Davis, pointing at the committee chairman as he declared: "Let me start by telling you this: I have never used steroids. Period. I don't know how to say it more clearly than that. Never."

READ MORE

On Monday, after the news broke Palmeiro had tested positive for stanozolol, ESPN played that clip over and over, interspersed with cuts to another famous finger-wagging denial - that of former President Bill Clinton averring "I did not have sexual relations with that woman."

Caught red-handed this week, Palmeiro sought refuge in the usual dodge: yes, he had tested positive, but no, he had never "knowingly" ingested performance-enhancing drugs. It must have been something in one of his "nutritional supplements". Laughable as his denial might have been, he found an ally in Washington.

That same day the former president of the Texas Rangers was holding forth in an informal gathering of Texas newsmen. Palmeiro had played for the Rangers when George W Bush owned the team, and the president backed his former employee. Describing Palmeiro as "a friend," Bush declared: "He's testified in public, and I believe him." It might be noted here the resurgence of interest in the subject had been sparked in a large measure by Bush's digression to the subject of the steroid epidemic in his State of the Union Address. Buttressed by the show of support from the White House, Palmeiro agreed to participate in a tele-conference call with sportswriters later in the day.

"When I testified in front of Congress, I know that I was testifying under oath and I told the truth," he insisted. "Today I am telling the truth again that I did not do this intentionally or knowingly." Claiming he had no idea how the stanzozolol had got into his body, Palmeiro described the test result as an "embarrassing" situation. "Why would I do this in a year when I went in front of Congress and I testified and I told the truth?" he pleaded. "Why would I do this during a season where I was going to get to 3,000 hits? I'm not a crazy person."

No, but maybe he thinks the rest of us are.

Another participant in the St Patrick's Day parade on Capitol Hill last spring had been Jose Canseco. Having just published a book entitled Juiced, in which he described steroid-sharing sessions with both McGwire and Palmeiro, Canseco was a virtual pariah, but this week's developments shed a new light on his credibility.

Consider, for instance, the fact that in Palmeiro's first four full seasons with the Rangers he hit a grand total of 70 home runs. In 1993, the year Canseco joined Bush's team, his single-season total ballooned to 37, and, following the strike-interrupted 1994 season, he put together consecutive seasons of 39, 39, 38, 43, 47, 39, 47, 43, and 38 home runs. As he approaches the 10-day suspension resulting from this week's positive finding, Palmeiro has 569 career homers, more than all but eight men who ever played the game, and is one of just four players in history to have accumulated 500 home runs and 3,000 hits.

These benchmark figures, coupled with his strong anti-drug stance, had led to the assumption he was a cinch to be elected to the Hall of Fame when his playing days ended, but that eventuality has been cast into considerable doubt. Two years ago I announced I would refuse to vote for any of the steroid-enhanced candidates when they were presented for election, and many of my colleagues on the panel are now echoing the same sentiment.It sounds as if we will have some allies in Washington.

Rep Christopher Shays, a Bush Republican from Connecticut, was sitting on the panel when Palmeiro testified last March 17th. Shays doesn't have a Hall of Fame vote, but he offered up his personal reaction. "He ended up being the most outspoken against steroid use and even this guy is in a situation where he's been suspended," marvelled Shays. ". . . Obviously, it calls into question every accomplishment he's had."

The suspension will cost Palmeiro about $164,000 in salary, but the damage to his reputation and legacy will be more devastating.

Palmeiro's apprehension has been labelled "a black eye for the sport", but Major League Baseball has done its best to put a positive spin on the revelation. Even the players' association appeared to be jumping on the bandwagon, as union chief Donald Fehr proclaimed Palmeiro's impending suspension "should serve to dispel doubts about our determination to rid baseball of illegal steroids, or the strength or effectiveness of our testing programme."

Until Palmeiro joined the line-up, the steroid-testing policy initiated this year had yielded minnows like Alex Sanchez and Juan Rincon. Now a big fish has turned up in the net.