Spring Break
MLB's Dog-And-Pony Show Solves Nothing
Alex Schaefer
Issue date: 2/14/08 Section: Commentary
The Mitchell Report, baseball's commissioned investigation into the sport's steroid problem, read like a steamy novel written just for sports fanatics. I pored through it with the intensity of a love-starved woman reading a Danielle Steel book. One of the more depressing aspects of the report's release was that it was anticipated with a "who got caught"-type of buzz rather than, "who used?" Even so, the inclusion of Roger Clemens - an All-Star pitcher and certain Hall of Famer - surprised many. His continued success had always been attributed to his intensely superior training regimen. Players descended on his house for workouts like individuals journeying to study with the Dalai Lama.
Clemens initially reacted with ferocious defiance, but with good reason. The only evidence against him was verbal testimony given by his former trainer Brian McNamee, essentially heresy. McNamee said he injected Clemens with steroids repeatedly during the 1998, 2000 and 2001 seasons. Also paramount to the trainer's story was his assertion that Clemens was introduced to the idea of using steroids by Jose Canseco (baseball's crowned "Mr. Steroids") while attending a party at Canseco's house.
Now, as their hearing before House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform comes to a close, there still looks to be a measure of ambiguity to this soap opera.
I watched Wednesday's hearings. It was in effect an angry mob of geriatrics closing in on a victim; except, they were not sure yet who that victim would be. In an effort to discover the truth, both individuals have been scrutinized under the brightest of lights. Frankly, McNamee comes off as anything but an upstanding individual. He used Clemens' image to advertise his services as a trainer, without consulting the pitcher. He claimed to be a doctor after receiving a Ph.D. from a college that didn't even have a campus. He took his courses through the mail, making it, essentially, a diploma mill.
Clemens' legal team's main offensive against McNamee involved disproving his story about Canseco's party. They produced game footage in which the announcers discuss Clemens' absence from that certain weekend's festivities. Clemens also brought forward a receipt from the golf round that he claims to have played the morning that the steroids barbecue was taking place. This almost hindered his case as it seemed both ludicrous and downright humorous that he would keep accounting records as meticulously as he conducts his workouts.
Clemens initially reacted with ferocious defiance, but with good reason. The only evidence against him was verbal testimony given by his former trainer Brian McNamee, essentially heresy. McNamee said he injected Clemens with steroids repeatedly during the 1998, 2000 and 2001 seasons. Also paramount to the trainer's story was his assertion that Clemens was introduced to the idea of using steroids by Jose Canseco (baseball's crowned "Mr. Steroids") while attending a party at Canseco's house.
Now, as their hearing before House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform comes to a close, there still looks to be a measure of ambiguity to this soap opera.
I watched Wednesday's hearings. It was in effect an angry mob of geriatrics closing in on a victim; except, they were not sure yet who that victim would be. In an effort to discover the truth, both individuals have been scrutinized under the brightest of lights. Frankly, McNamee comes off as anything but an upstanding individual. He used Clemens' image to advertise his services as a trainer, without consulting the pitcher. He claimed to be a doctor after receiving a Ph.D. from a college that didn't even have a campus. He took his courses through the mail, making it, essentially, a diploma mill.
Clemens' legal team's main offensive against McNamee involved disproving his story about Canseco's party. They produced game footage in which the announcers discuss Clemens' absence from that certain weekend's festivities. Clemens also brought forward a receipt from the golf round that he claims to have played the morning that the steroids barbecue was taking place. This almost hindered his case as it seemed both ludicrous and downright humorous that he would keep accounting records as meticulously as he conducts his workouts.
Viewing Comments 1 - 1 of 1
diplomamillnews
posted 2/15/08 @ 9:58 PM EST
Point A: "He claimed to be a doctor after receiving a Ph.D. from a college that didn't even have a campus."
Point B: "He took his courses through the mail, making it, essentially, a diploma mill. (Continued…)
Post a Comment