Let's Rap About Steroids, or Taking The Plunge.

Baseball is more than a game for many. Baseball isn't just a simple sport, some paltry event we watch simply to pass the time. Baseball is life. Baseball is what makes us happy, sad, overjoyed, furious, and everything in between. Baseball is a game of ups and downs, ranging from no-hitters to 4-homer performances (both of which we've seen this year, in true unpredictable fashion). Baseball is much more than a game. So, it stands to reason, baseball means more to those lucky enough to play it for a career than it does even to us stunned onlookers.

Another thing we must consider is this: we all strive to be the best at what we do, in some fashion. We all want power, and the luxuries that come with it. We all want fame, and the advantages of being famous. We all want attention, to have all eyes on us. And if we can find some magical substance that can give us all we desire, who among us can honestly say they wouldn't immediately take it, regardless of the consequences?

Then again...does it tarnish our accomplishments, if we achieve them through means other than our own drive and talent? Sure, we used those inherent qualities to get where we are...we just used a little outside help, that's all. This is a moral issue that millions of us struggle with, no matter how pious or righteous we may present ourselves to be. Major League Baseball players are no exception, which brings us to the biggest hot topic in the game since the mid 1990s.

How could we ever keep these two out of Cooperstown? 

By now, even the most casual fan of baseball is aware of the effect steroids has had on the game. We've watched players balloon to grotesque sizes, continue to dominate far past an athlete's prime, and even improve from when they were younger and in better shape. We've seen records get obliterated with the greatest of ease. We've witnessed history with an asterisk.

We've decried the players who have seemingly deceived us, called for the heads of the managers who pretended not to notice, and vilified the officials who tried to sweep it all under the proverbial rug. We've denied some from entering the Hall of Fame, and will most likely continue to do so for the foreseeable future. We've become so jaded, that we automatically assume a player is doping when they suddenly go on a tear. Not only has steroids turned the national pastime into a national mockery, it's made us cynical and bitter. We can't root for a team anymore if they have a proven juicer on it.

What we've forgotten, though, is that before we even knew what steroids were, we were going crazy over the things we were seeing. Every time McGwire or Sosa hit a home run in 1998, the nation jumped for joy. Every time Bonds sent a baseball flying out of the stadium, we all cheered louder than the last time he did it. Every time Clemens threw a strikeout, we went nuts waiting for the next one. What we've forgotten is that we loved what was happening. We cherished it. And after the strike of 1994 that cancelled the World Series that year, we needed it. 

Jose Canseco, the self proclaimed "godfather of steroids in baseball", has written two books about how he introduced the widespread usage of steroids in MLB. In stark contrast to what most people would do, though, he exalted himself instead of apologizing for putting an irremovable stain on the sport's history. He touted that he made the sport better, that he saved baseball. Many disagree with him, and believe that steroids are the worst thing that could have been introduced into our beloved game.

I don't.

During their careers, they were our heroes. After their careers, they were baseball's villains. Our hypocrisy is astounding.

Let me explain: that scenario I created near the top of this article is similar to the predicament many players faced as steroid usage spread through the game. This supposed "miracle drug" was turning regular players into stars, and stars into monsters. If something becomes available, especially something THAT WASN'T BANNED BY MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL AT THE TIME, that can take you from being a very good player to being a legendary one, you as a player have an outrageously simple question to ask yourself: do I take this substance and become one of the best, or do I keep my morals and fade into obscurity? Regardless of what the perceived "right thing" to do is, most players seemed to choose the steroids, just for a shot at greatness. And we, fans and executives alike, allowed it to happen. Encouraged it to happen. Wanted it to happen.

Now we want to punish these players for entertaining us?

The government, who decided it was their place to step in and handle the steroids debacle, has spent countless millions (if not billions) of our hard earned dollars in the hopes of nailing just one baseball player to the wall for lying about taking steroids. We watched, and were absolutely disgusted by, the trials of the greatest hitter and pitcher of this generation in Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, both of whom denied taking steroids when it was hilariously obvious they had. And what did it get us? One lousy obstruction of justice count against Bonds, and every charge against Clemens being dropped. Great job, Congress! Can we please just watch baseball now?

The players, who just wanted to extend their careers for as long as possible, have become symbols of cheating and dishonesty throughout the world, even to those who have never watched them play. Mark McGwire is the lone doper who seems to have redeemed himself to an extent. Do you know why? BECAUSE HE ADMITTED IT. Fans don't like to be treated like idiots. We all know what was going on. We just want to hear the players actually say it. And after a decade of not telling the truth, McGwire finally came clean in early 2011. What happened afterward? He became the hitting coach for the Cardinals and the fans in St. Louis absolutely adore him yet again. Should Bonds, Sosa or Palmeiro ever come out and admit it, we'll begin to forgive them as well. Clemens dug himself into a hole: if he ever admits it, he'll be thrown into jail for lying to Congress, but as long as he keeps lying, the sportswriters will never vote him into Cooperstown.

The fans, who never seemed to have a problem with what was happening until someone (I'm looking at you, Bud) decided it was a bad thing for home runs and strikeouts to be in abundance, have jumped onto their high horses in amazing numbers. I haven't talked to a single fan that is willing to admit that steroids are indirectly responsible for reviving our interest in the game after the '94 strike. As someone who was only 4 when that occurred, most of my childhood took place during a time that baseball was just exploding back into our hearts, and the profound effect that it had on me has shaped my entire perception of things (hence this blog). I never saw the problem with steroids. If these men wanted to ruin their bodies and become caricatures of themselves simply for my amusement, that's their prerogative. I've always enjoyed watching both high scoring games and low scoring ones, and have equal love for the long ball and the K. Lying about it is dishonest and they should be considered jerks for doing that. But if you're going to ban these players, who were already excellent before the drugs, from entering the sacred Hall solely based on that, I don't think that's right.

The greatest ballplayer of all time was also one of the most morally reprehensible people to ever play baseball. Why should he be enshrined in the Hall while steroid users sit outside?

I'm not saying steroid users don't need to be punished. They absolutely deserve everything they've gotten to this point. What I'm saying is that at a certain point in the future, be it 4 months or 40 years, we need to forgive them. We need to accept them back into the fold. And more importantly, we need to separate the person from the player. Barry Bonds is a schmuck. Roger Clemens is a prick. Jose Canseco is the worst of them all. However, their numbers and achievements rank among the top in baseball history. So we need to forgive them. Not today, and not tomorrow. But sometime before the next century. Because, after all, baseball is more than a game. Baseball is a way of life. And who doesn't want a better life?