They Didn’t Care Back When “Then” Was “Now,” Either

As noted in the previous post, the Tribune’s Rick Morrissey got on his soapbox to proudly proclaim that he’s not voting for Mark McGwire on his Hall of Fame ballot because he cares “about now.”

That’s a laugh, given how Morrissey’s cohort in the press gaggle behaved back in 1998, when the first whispers of juicing started to follow McGwire while he was busy “saving” baseball by hitting 70 home runs.

Long-time readers may remember this piece. I originally posted it at our old web site as part of our Way Back Machine feature. Apologies for those who don’t like reruns. But now that we’re in for pious sermons from the punditocracy about how MLB buried its head in the sand while players shot up steroids willy-nilly, I think it’s important to remember that many of those same pundits had their heads buried in the sand right next to MLB.

And so did a lot of us fans. If we’re ever to have an honest assessment of the “Steroid Era,” we can’t let any of this fall into the memory hole...

[Originally posted 24 March 2005]
After the dog-and-pony show…errrr…Congressional hearings on steroids in Major League Baseball last week, I was struck by one thing: how the entire world seemed to have turned against Mark McGwire.

Granted, his testimony was rather clumsy and ham-fisted. But my mind boggled at how quickly public opinion soured. Former supporters, like Dan Shaughnessy of the Boston Globe, deserted him. Other media pundits pondered whether or not he was worthy of the Hall of Fame. Previously-adoring fans were calling him a cheater.

All of a sudden, these people all “knew” that McGwire was juicing.

And that didn’t gibe with my recollection of that magical 1998 season. Sure, there was the androstenedione flap, but that was but a brief rain shower in the Summer of Love. I mean, if we “know” six years after the fact that Big Mac was doping, wouldn’t we have “known” as events were unfolding? Wouldn’t someone, somewhere, have published the opinion that they “knew” back then?

So I cracked open the Palatial Baseball Archives to see what was being written in real time. Granted, we don’t have the Library of Congress at our fingertips. But I do have an extensive collection of clippings from the Chicago Tribune, and a complete run of Baseball Weekly. If any allegations of steroid use were leveled at McGwire, there should be some record of it in the Archive.

Guess what? There weren’t any. Well, nothing of substance, that is.

Most of what I came across was, simply put, fawning, like this piece by Baseball Weekly’s Deron Snyder (1 July 1998):

McGwire isn’t anxious to share all the secrets of his success. But he says it’s not just size and strength that allow him to hit homers at the fastest rate ever.

“There are probably a dozen guys stronger and bigger than I am in the major leagues,” he says, not quite convincingly, sitting on a trunk outside the clubhouse. “It’s just God-given ability, that’s what I believe. Everyone is given the ability to do something on this earth, and the ones who take it to the fullest owe it to the good Lord. Whatever you’re given, you have to refine it, make it work.”

[Tony] LaRussa has been McGwire’s manager for 11 of the redheaded slugger’s 12 major league seasons. He says McGwire is simply maxing out his talent, work ethic, and experience.

The andro story broke in August. But the debate always centered on andro. Andro had been banned by the NFL and the Olympics, but not Major League Baseball. McGwire did his best to keep the argument centered on andro, as Bob Nightengale writes in the 26 August 1998 Baseball Weekly:

Major League Baseball prohibits the use of “all illegal drugs and controlled substances, including steroids or prescription drugs for which the individual in possession of the drug does not have a prescription.” But while many in the sports community are split about whether androstenedione is a steroid, one thing is clear: McGwire has not violated baseball’s drug policy because the substance is sold legally in the United States.

“I’ve done nothing wrong,” says McGwire, who is closing in on Roger Maris’ single-season home run record with 53 home runs, as of Aug. 24. “It’s legal stuff, sold over the counter. Everybody that I know in the game of baseball uses the same stuff I use...

“I just think this is really unfair, for me to have to defend using something that is perfectly legal and allowed by Major League Baseball.”

McGwire’s team quickly defended him.

“Androstenedione is a natural substance which is a natural precursor product of testosterone,” Saint Louis Cardinals trainer Barry Weinberg said in a statement. “It has no proven anabolic steroids effects nor significant side effects. It contains no testosterone, it stimulates a slight increase in one’s natural testosterone levels for a short period of time (one hour).”...

Cardinals manager Tony LaRussa, infuriated by suggestions that this could taint McGwire’s accomplishment if he breaks that home run record, told the Saint Louis Post-Dispatch he is considering banning all AP reporters from their clubhouse. Baseball would never allow a ban to occur, but it was meant to serve as a warning to other reporters who dare imply that McGwire’s strength is not natural...

I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that the Super Genius is so vehement in his support for McGwire. He’s been doing it for years, and he would look rather silly if he gave up now. In for a penny, in for a pound…

Our friend Paul Sullivan chimed in with this from the 28 August 1998 Chicago Tribune:

“It’s sad, it’s really sad,” McGwire said. “The media is making something out of nothing and is trying to critique something that is perfectly legal, that anybody can go to the counter and buy.”

McGwire said 10 to 12 other players on the Cardinals use the substance. Several other players, such as Jose Canseco, Dave Hollins, Jason Giambi, and Dante Bichette, also said they have used it. Bichette wrote a column for the Rocky Mountain News on Thursday saying users of “andro” are “trying to provide a safer alternative to steroids.”...

Well, if Dante Bichette is down with it, it must be OK!

Sully holds true to form in that column, showing his concern about how his livelihood will be affected by the andro debate:

The real losers in the controversy may ultimately be the media, because some media outlets are going overboard on the story. The New York Post allegedly tried to hire a St. Louis photographer to snap pictures of McGwire’s locker when he wasn’t around. The Cardinals’ front office found out about the plan and quickly banned photographers and TV cameras from Busch Stadium clubhouses.

A few columnists offered mild questioning of McGwire’s use of andro (and, in an indirect way, his alleged use of steroids). Most took the “Who will think of the children?” approach, like Skip Bayless (Chicago Tribune, 1 September 1998):

McGwire would have you believe [andro] is no more dangerous than bee pollen. But like it or not, McGwire must accept that he has a responsibility to kids who want to “be like Mark.” At the very least, he should repeatedly warn kids during interviews against rushing out and buying andro as if it’s muscle-building nitro.

And Paul White (Baseball Weekly, 2 September 1998):

As for McGwire, nobody can say for certain andro has affected his home run total. It certainly didn’t help him make contact. Oh, maybe a couple cleared the wall because he was a bit stronger.

But as you savor history and watch the game thrive, think about a more important issue – the need to be informed about what goes into our bodies and into our kids’ bodies.

Baseball Weekly’s Tim Wendel comes down the harshest (26 August 1998):

Rest assured that this news [i.e., andro] is going to undeservedly taint McGwire’s march. His could be the ultimate asterisk. What’s ironic about this news is remember when fans derided Jose Canseco, McGwire’s former Bash Brother? Does anybody dare begin such a chant when Mac hits 60?

As it turned out…no. No one dared. No one wanted to ruin the warm fuzzies the home run chase brought to Major League Baseball.

The media watchdogs became lapdogs, as Bob Nightengale describes (9 September 1998 Baseball Weekly):

[T]he Cardinals perhaps were angry with an Associated Press report a few weeks ago about McGwire’s use of androstenedione, a controversial dietary supplement. They feared that the flap would taint McGwire’s record since androstenedione is banned in the NFL and the Olympics.

Sure, McGwire was annoyed, but it was as if he almost mocked the issue. He often wore a cap from a particular store that sells androstenedione, during press conferences, and was sure to wear sleeveless T-shirts, permitting the whole world to see his massive 20-inch biceps. He even joked privately with reporters saying that they should give it a try.

Back then, no one was worried about andro tainting the home run record. They were worried about Roger Maris’ record being broken by more than one person (Nightengale, Baseball Weekly, 12 August 1998):

[B]ut before baseball gets completely giddy, there is a possible glitch to all of this madness.

What happens if two players, such as McGwire and Griffey, break Maris’ record? What if there’s a third, such as Sosa? How about a fourth or fifth, if Greg Vaughn and Vinny Castilla get hot?

Just what happens then?

“I don’t care who breaks it,” Hall of Fame broadcaster Vin Scully says, “as long as only one person breaks it.

“It would taint the record if more than one person breaks it.”

Says [Tony] Gwynn: “I think Vin Scully is right. I’d love to see one guy do it, and if not this year, another year. But I’m not sure if it’s good for the game to see a bunch of guys do it.

“It just wouldn’t look good, you know what I mean?”...

Says Merv Rettenmund, hitting coach of the San Diego Padres: “Hey, as long as they’re legitimate [i.e., legitimate home rune hitters], who cares? If they’re legitimate, I’d like to see five or six guys do it.

“Now, if you’re talking about Chris Gomez hitting three or four a game, you’ve got problems.”

Yes, as long as “legitimate” sluggers broke the record, who cares? And that attitude hung around through the end of the season, as illustrated in this paragraph from Tim Wendel (Baseball Weekly, 16 September 1998):

Since the spring, McGwire has been playing out the three-stage theme that has dominated stories, legends, and history since civilization began. If we want to get really cosmic, the Jungians among us would claim that the Saint Louis slugger strikes all kinds of emotional chords. It’s not only a feel-good story in these roller-coaster times of presidential revelations and monetary upheaval; it also applies to our sense of what makes a great tale. In the film room of our collective subconscious, the McGwire saga gets two thumbs up.

That may be the first and last reference to Carl Jung that you’ll see here at Jim and Bob’s Palatial Baseball Web Site.

So how did McGwire go from a feel-good story to a fallen hero? I think we can get a sense of how things spiraled out of control to the point we are today with these sadly prescient comments (Bob Nightengale, Baseball Weekly, 26 August 1998):

“We have testing for unlawful substances when there is cause,” says union chief Don Fehr. “That’s when it is done. There is no reason for cause right now. I disagree that there is a (steroid) problem. If there was a problem, I’d know about it. And I don’t know about it.

“This latest thing (with McGwire) is not a serious issue. No one has suggested that this is damaging to your health. It is perfectly lawful.”

Added Fehr: “Look, Mark has had 50 home runs the last two years and no one suggested anything then. The only difference this time is that he has avoided injury. This is a one-day or two-day wonder story.”...

“I think the general managers all know,” Philadelphia Phillies hitting coach Hal McRae says, “but they don’t want to know. The trainers have got to tell them. They know who’s on it and who isn’t.

“I’m not saying it’s right or it’s wrong, but for baseball’s sake, I hope the issue dies for the time being.

“Look at McGwire, he’s great for the game. He’s making money for everybody. So let it go. Don’t taint his record. Don’t hurt the game.

“If people want to talk about it two years from now, go ahead, but not right now.”

No worries, Hal – it’s six years on, and we’re still talking about it.