Steroids and Segregtion

I didn't see this anywhere. Solid read IMO.

http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=jones/060308


By Bomani Jones
Special to Page 2


Baseball's worst nightmare has come true. Every star in the World Baseball Classic could tear his rotator cuff and it wouldn't be half as bad as the bombshells of evidence that appear in "Game of Shadows," an upcoming book by San Francisco Chronicle reporters Mark Fainaru-Wada and Lance Williams that chronicles Barry Bonds' alleged use of steroids from 1998 to 2004.


Less than a month before Opening Day, the second stanza of Bonds' career looks more like a chemically enhanced sham than ever. His career began in an era when 400 homers guaranteed Hall of Fame induction; now 334 [1998-2004] of Bonds' 708 home runs appear tainted (you could add an additional 40 he hit in 1997, depending on the allegations about andro).


Speculation about Bonds' physique, head size and statistics are replaced by affidavits and training schedules that make it just as likely that Bonds used steroids as it was that Pete Rose gambled (of course, Rose finally admitted it, but he denied it for years).


It looks that bad. Those who don't believe Bonds juiced must also ignore Santa forgetting to remove the price tags from Christmas presents.


With the mountains of evidence against him, Bonds will stand as the poster child for this so-called Steroid Era. That he -- already accepted in the mid-'90s by many as the best player of his generation, and still in his prime -- felt the need for illegal supplemental assistance after reaching 40 home runs in two consecutive seasons (1996 and '97) shows just how pervasive steroid use was in the late '90s. It speaks loudly of how steroids might have become necessary for someone looking to compete at a high level, and that might be the most damning thing of all.


Bonds' last significant personal challenge on the field will be to break Babe Ruth's record for most home runs by a left-handed hitter. Bonds has made it clear that it is Ruth that he most wants to pass. It is the white man deified by baseball history like no other who Bonds wants to trump, not Henry Aaron.


In spite of his distaste for the media, Bonds clearly appreciates a good story.


Ruth and Bonds. The two biggest stars of baseball's two most sinful eras. The irony is delicious.


Even with steroids fresh on our minds, segregation is still the greatest stain on baseball. Though the practice wasn't out of step with general society, the exclusion of blacks and Latinos from the major leagues taints every record produced before 1947 in the same way steroids tarnish the accomplishments of this generation.


How different would Babe Ruth's numbers have been had he faced a young Satchel Paige or Bill Foster a few times a year? Would Ruth have retired as baseball's home run king had Josh Gibson been allowed to play in the major leagues?


Without a time machine, those questions have no answers. And with little more than anecdotal evidence on old Negro leaguers to work with, it's almost impossible to guess.


The same can be said about this Steroid Era. The only players about whom there is concrete evidence of steroid use are those who told on themselves and those who happened to patronize a laboratory, BALCO, that was under investigation. All the pimple-counting in the world won't make it clear how far steroid use reached.


What numbers would Barry Bonds have put up without the juice? Did Sammy Sosa or Mark McGwire spend 1998 tinkling on our heads and calling it rain?


There might be no answers. But baseball needs to come up with something tout de suite.


Consider how deep segregation ran and how poorly baseball handled its legacy. No matter what happens, the records of yesteryear will be shrouded by the unavoidable fact that not all the best talent in the game was present in the majors. In fact, there's no way of knowing if the majors boasted the majority of baseball's best players.


"You can't tell those old guys [from the Negro leagues] they weren't playing the best baseball in the world," says Bob Kendrick, director of marketing at the Negro League Baseball Museum.


There's no one to prove them wrong or right. Baseball was just confronted with that dilemma when it elected 12 players and five contributors to the Hall of Fame in a special election last month. Many were outraged that Buck O'Neil wasn't included in that class, but few have addressed the raw numbers. Including those 12, there are 30 players recognized by the Hall of Fame as Negro leaguers (not including players like Aaron, Robinson and Banks). By comparison, there were 36 Hall inductees before Robinson integrated Cooperstown in 1962, and many others who made their bones before '47 were inducted years later.


In that disparity lies a problem. The most recent election of members was hamstrung by a lack of quantifiable data on Negro-league players. There were no statistics to use to separate the great from the really good.


But is anyone comfortable saying there were that many more great white players from that era than black? Could someone say that without automatically assuming the Negro leagues to be inferior? And would there be a justification for starting with that assumption?



Bonds has the potential to surpass the Babe, but 334 of his home runs are tarnished.
Those are the questions left on that issue because baseball didn't properly manage how segregation would affect its history. By the time the game was fully prepared to deal with that legacy, most with memories of the Negro leagues were dead (and their descendents became scarcer on the diamond).


History is more important in baseball that it is in any other sport. Baseball has long been considered an ideal in and of itself. George Will has used it for years as an illustration of everything good about America, even though much of his nostalgia dates to a time when so much about America was really bad. Baseball speaks of itself and feels it possesses an integrity that transcends the crookedness that's always been pervasive in real life. It demands respect and historical awareness from all involved in it.


More than a pastime, it's baseball.


And now its record books are filled with feats of two separate but evil eras. Of the 21 players with 500 career home runs, nine played at least five seasons in eras either lily-white or darkened by drugs. The same can be said for 11 of the all-time top 21 in RBI.


As Bonds comes closer to the Bambino, so do their respective times.


When Bonds hits 715, it shouldn't be received as making a mockery of a virtuous past. Unless you -- yes, you -- find steroids more intolerable than segregation, that is.


What's clearer now than ever is, in spite of everything baseball claims to be, the game is prone to weakness like all things human. Characters like Kenesaw Mountain Landis weren't strong enough to subscribe to human decency and treat nonwhites fairly in baseball. Executives weren't strong enough to raise unavoidable questions about steroid use -- even though home runs exploded exponentially after the 1994 strike -- because business was booming and players would never get caught since there was no steroid testing.

The transgressions of those two eras are unforgivable. Baseball was just as weak as the rest of a racist nation in the first half of the 20th century, but the nation isn't to be forgiven, either. Baseball was just as weak as ticket-buying fans were, content to enjoy offensive explosions and willing to finance hitter-friendly stadiums that begat more explosions. And fans were just as weak for not asking questions, either.

As Opening Day dawns, those two weaknesses will be unavoidable. Months ago, Bonds turned this season into his personal assault against racism. But this isn't an assault, and it isn't just his.

This is generational warfare at its least noble and most bizarre. It's now vs. then staging a battle where no side is good, there's enough blame for all, and no numbers are to be fully trusted.

But to Barry's chagrin, this isn't Bonds vs. Ruth. Though larger-than-life figures, neither man is bigger than his time. They were once-in-a-lifetime players who played within parameters set by others and quasi-legitimately set illegitimate records.

Fans may ignore Bonds' chase of the home run record in protest of what he's done. But baseball better pay attention. Then, it will see the conundrum caused by turning its head for so many years. Its two greatest errors will be on full display, providing baseball a valuable opportunity to ponder what it should do from here. Unless it wants to be powerless over the way greatness is interpreted in this precious game, it must fully recognize what's really going on.

Because of its mistakes, Bonds passing Ruth doesn't mean a damn thing. And if one man surpasses the accomplishments of another that many see as the only player better than he, then what does that mean for baseball?"

Another question that may not have an answer.


Bomani Jones is a frequent contributor to Page 2. Tell him how you feel at bomani@bomanijones.com.

 

Anyone care to address the article, which I thought was a good read (as far as "tainted" records go)?

 

I agree 100%.

How can you say he was leaps and bounds ahead of players that couldn't play against him on the reg? I'm not saying he wasn't....