Like clockwork, with the first signs of spring comes the new round of allegations of steroid use in baseball. This year’s allegations were centered on Alex Rodriguez, the poster boy for a supposed clean future of the game, whose name appeared on a list of 104 Major League Baseball players who tested positive in a secret 2003 drug survey. While Rodriguez admitted to using steroids (though in a somewhat murky way), Bud Selig, the commissioner of baseball, acted out with the rage of a bad actor, demanding an investigation into Rodriguez, despite knowing of the positive steroid test since 2003. With the blame game in full effect and a scramble to find the next pure player (cue Albert Pujols in the March 16th issue of Sports Illustrated), baseball is experiencing its annual crisis of conscience as it tries to spin the story in their favor.

Selig’s Follies

As the steroid scandal enters its seventh year in the public eye, Bud Selig stands alone as the only constant actor in this ever revolving cast of characters. No matter how he tries to deflect the blame to specific players, not once has he addressed the notion that he had to have known what was going on. In the late 90’s, when players like Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa were posting mind boggling home run numbers, which brought the game of baseball back to the national front after losing its stature with an ill advised strike, it was Selig who was first to congratulate the gaudy numbers, despite the overwhelming evidence that these numbers made no sense in comparison to the respective players career averages. His current “shock” over the Rodriguez allegations of a positive steroid ring false; When the secret test was administered, he was one of the few who had access to the results. The sudden rush to “talk” with Rodriguez and investigate the manner is theater, another move by Selig to face and hide the fact that he is as much to blame for this as the players.
But, it goes further than Selig. The owners of these teams are just as much to blame. Since the late 90’s, ticket sales have skyrocketed in direct correlation to the rise in steroid related home runs. With higher ticket sales comes more advertising dollars, new television deals, interruptions on CNN as records are broken, and the treatment of the game as a religious experience, one that brings together different fans from different parts of the country to celebrate the achievement of only one player. Part of the problem is the reverence given to individual records; The hallowed achievements of Babe Ruth, Hank Aaron, and Roger Maris are part of the blood of the game (though the argument can be made that those may be the pinnacle of human achievement, making steroids a necessary evil to take on those achievements that the annals of baseball have made more important than the winning of championships).
It is with this background, that the owners become more complicit than Selig in the scandal. Sure, Selig’s laissez-faire attitude, mixed with the buddy system within baseball’s ownership allowed for a culture of ignoring the steroid problem. But, instead of fostering a team atmosphere, the owners poured more money into their superstars, never mind the notion that the players true skills were not indicative of the amount of their salaries. The Chicago Cubs even gave Sammy Sosa a car after his record-breaking season before unceremoniously dumping him for nothing several years later, when the steroid scandal began to generate heat. Even with the scandal in front of owners, the big dollars are still going to players who may have been involved at some point with performance enhancing drugs. Enter Alex Rodriguez. The Yankees (notorious for overpaying their talent) gave the Rodriguez the keys to the kingdom in 2007 with a new 10 year $275 million contract that includes cash incentives for breaking the home run record as a Yankee, a contract that almost entices the use of some sort of athletic enhancement to reach the incentives.

The Fans as Enablers

Ultimately, these large contracts for athletes lay on the hands of the fans. Despite the annual revelation of another player being a steroid user, the annual rising of ticket prices and contract, and a country in a brutal recession, the fans still come out in earnest. Last week when the Los Angeles Dodgers signed Manny Ramirez to a $45 million contract, fans were ecstatic even though Los Angeles resides in a state with 10% unemployment and millions in debt. Perhaps this is the beauty of baseball as America’s pastime; it is impervious to scandal. The fans continue to adore and embrace the players involved or accused of using steroids as long as they are on their team, but then boo the opposing team’s players. Par for the course, but on the same hand, the outrage in the press or within certain circles of the American public rings false and overblown. If this were truly an issue with the fans, then they wouldn’t show up. Instead, it just adds to the three-ring circus of the game, another jeer to add to the opposing team.
It’s the idea of the game as a circus that puts this all into perspective. Baseball is entertainment, not the “Field of Dreams” fantasy world that so many like to put in into. Sure, there is that purity in the amateur levels of the game, but the professional arena is big business, perhaps 0ne of the bigger and longer running corporations in America. It thrives on attention and everyone from the players to the owners to Bud Selig know this and takes full advantage of it. Selig and the owners will deny knowledge of the steroid issue as a way to try to keep the sanctity of the game, but as soon as baseball becomes about records and contracts, an “any means necessary” type of attitude invades the sport.

The Future of the Game

Until the revelations of his steroid use came to light in February, Alex Rodriguez was viewed as the poster boy for the future of the non-steroid edition of Major League Baseball. That vacuum will quickly be filled with the March 16th issue of Sports Illustrated, featuring Albert Pujols on the cover with a message stating, “don’t be afraid to believe in me.” It’s a bold statement for a player whose name has been mentioned as a possible steroid user, even bolder for one who plays for Tony LaRussa, famed coach of both Mark McGwire and Jose Canseco. Not that LaRussa condones their actions, but it’s obvious that he turned the other way when these activities were occurring.
The big mistake here is not placing the future sanctity of the game on Pujols, but by giving such a heavy burden to one person. By making a team game focus on an individual, the promise of the game becomes diluted. Placing the future on a team like the Tampa Bay Rays as a collection of solid, young players would be the way to go. The individual focus on Pujols only puts more heat on him, a heat that will become an inferno if he does end up using any sort of performance enhancement. The confidence is nice, but it makes the game ultimately feel less pure than it ever has before.