Please Mr. Mitchell, No More

I grew up loving sports. Playing sports, watching sports, collecting cards and memorizing stats. As many of you know, Barry Bonds was my childhood hero. He was my favorite athlete years before he became the most prolific power hitter in the history of the game; back in the days when he was a superb all around player who could bat for average, steal bases, was a perennial Gold Glove winner, and still managed to compile impressive homerun and RBI stats. Years before he became the face of the steroid scandal and the most reviled figure in the sporting world.

When the steroid outrage first hit the spotlight, everyone assumed (hoped?) that it was an isolated incident. Bonds was one player out of hundreds. Of course he was using: just look at those numbers. Look at the size of his head.

We chose to ignore (or forget) the fact that Jose Canseco was an admitted user and wrote a book (Juiced) about Major League Baseball’s hidden drug problem. We continued to look the other way when more allegations surfaced: Bonds was not so isolated after all. Superstars such as Mark McGwire and Rafael Palmero faced investigations. The accusations spread to other sports (namely cycling and football). Suspensions were handed out, awards were taken back, and some of the sporting world’s brightest stars fell in disgrace (Marion Jones, Floyd Landis).

The completed Mitchell Report was released on December 13. The document, compiled by former Senator George J. Mitchell, reveals the identities of 89 former and current Major League players who allegedly used illegal, performance enhancing drugs. Most notable on the list are future Hall of Famers (I guess we’ll call this pending) Roger Clemens (who has vehemently denied the allegations, and has a House Committee hearing scheduled for Feb. 13) and Andy Pettitte (who has admitted using HGH, but before it was banned). Also included are a large group of lesser known players such as Mike Stanton and Jason Grimsley (evidence that either A) steroids aren’t actually performance enhancing or B) these guys were such pathetic boobs before injecting themselves that they probably needed the drugs to be functioning human beings).

Now the scandal has spread beyond the world of sports. Entertainers Timbaland, 50 Cent, and Mary J. Blige have been accused of doping, as has writer/producer Tyler Perry. Soon we’ll be hearing of CEOs and politicians injecting themselves with HGH (speaking of, Mike Huckabee has been looking awfully bulky).

I wonder how much of this we really want to know; how far is too far? We’ve entered a new era of McCarthyism, seeking out and vilifying potential steroid users as rabidly as overly zealous patriots blacklisting suspected communists. The paranoia is palpable as athletes turn on each other without warning in futile attempts to divert the harsh interrogation lights. Anyone compiling stats that are too impressive, anyone whose muscles or dome has swelled noticeably becomes a suspect.

And once the investigation is under way, the accused are already guilty. They’ve lost the most important trial of their lives, held in the court of public opinion. The veracity of the accusations matters very little. These celebrities (heroes) have betrayed our trust, taken advantage of our misguided idolatry, and thereby committed the new Unforgivable Sin.

I ask again: How much do we really want to know? Name your favorite sport, your favorite athlete. Brett Favre, Lance Armstrong, Tiger Woods: do we really believe, without a shadow of a doubt, that these American icons are substance free? To be a top-tier athlete one must be competitive beyond reason. Do we really believe these competitors wouldn’t do whatever it took to gain the competitive edge? Let’s not be naïve.

I, for one, am starting to think I’d rather be ignorant. They’ll never rid competitive sports of cheaters. Athletes will adjust their methods, find new ways to enhance their performances. Steroid manufacturers will find new ways to conceal their wares.

So Mr. Mitchell, I beg of you: make it stop. Of course I respect your intentions. You’re trying to protect the children; you’re illustrating the morality tale of “cheaters never prosper” and instilling in youngsters the idea that there are no shortcuts to success. But that’s a lie. You and I both know it. And now you’re giving children tangible evidence that cheaters DO prosper. You’ve provided, in writing, 89 examples of men who achieved every little boy’s dream by bending the rules. “Look kid, all your hero did to become great was inject himself with this. Don’t you want to be great, too?”

Ultimately, you are prematurely stripping kids of their innocence. When we were young we had the luxury of believing that we could, through blood, sweat and tears, become superhuman; that we could transcend our modicum of space and time to live on forever in the hearts of sporting fans and record books, and we could do it on our own terms.

You’re proving that legends are molded by chemists creating hormonal imbalances: mad scientists animating grotesque monstrosities in underground laboratories.

I’ll strike a bargain with you, Mr. Mitchell: you do us all the favor of letting this proverbial sleeping dog lie. Forget about your investigation, quietly retire. For our part, we’ll do ourselves the favor of rewinding our collective consciousnesses 15 years, to the glory days when we deluded ourselves into believing that our heroes would never cheat to get ahead.

Man, that Barry Bonds is one hell of a player…

Thanks for reading.