Mitchell Report takes aim at wrong target
Stop the presses.
Commissioner Bud Selig responded by saying he would embrace each of Mitchell's 20 recommendations to further clean up the sport. Wonderful news, except Mitchell's best recommendations — year-round, unannounced testing and independent oversight — made sense long before the release of his report.
The bloodthirsty masses got new names — juicy ones, too. But the names represent only a fraction of those who used performance-enhancing drugs. We never will know the identities of every user, nor do we know who might have been accused falsely by Mitchell. In a courtroom, many of Mitchell's findings would amount to nothing but hearsay.
I never believed the Mitchell investigation to be necessary, even though I understood Selig's explanation for it — that doing nothing would give rise to critics, particularly those in Congress, who argued that baseball had something to hide. But it turns out, the report is even worse than I thought. Not merely unnecessary, but counter-productive for a sport trying to move forward.
I'll tell you what this report accomplished, other than the trashing of Roger Clemens' reputation, which probably was overdue. After years of painstakingly repairing its relationship with the players' union, baseball management again has breached its trust with Donald Fehr and Co. And without trust, not even the best-intentioned drug-testing program can succeed.
The union's self-righteous act long ago grew tired. But even Mitchell understood that almost all of the players named in the report could not defend themselves. As Fehr pointed out, players who spoke to Mitchell would have been vulnerable to ongoing state and federal investigations of steroid-distribution rings.
Thus, the players had to take the heat, even when the evidence was flimsy. Exhibit A: Orioles second baseman Brian Roberts, whose principal sin was telling former teammate Larry Bigbie that he injected himself once or twice with steroids in 2003 — that is, according to Bigbie. Now, maybe Roberts was a user, maybe he wasn't. But what was the purpose of smearing him? Such a portrayal only demeaned the report.
The allegations come -- fast, furious and dubious -- yet on page 307 Mitchell urges Selig to forgo discipline for the accused, except when penalties are necessary to preserve the integrity of the game. Mitchell notes that most of the alleged violations occurred at a point "distant in time." He wants players given "a fresh start." He acknowledges there is much he did not learn. Again, the question screams out: What did baseball's investment in time and money achieve?
People want to know why the union won't consent to blood testing or the freezing of urine samples for future inspection if tests are developed for presently undetectable drugs. The answer is simple: The union does not trust the owners to administer such programs honestly, and the Mitchell Report only reinforces all of the players' fears, going back to the days of Marvin Miller.
The current labor agreement runs through the end of 2011. However, many of Mitchell's recommendations can only be implemented through collective bargaining, and the new, frayed relationship is fraught with peril.
True, the union is under immense pressure to cooperate, from both the public and Congress. Yet at some point, Selig and the owners could push too far, and a sport that produced a record $6 billion in revenue last season could revert back to the finger-pointing, work-stoppage insanity of 1994 and '95.
Selig never will hear the end of it if that is the ultimate outcome, and the Mitchell Report will be blamed for renewing hostilities.
That's too high a price, considering how little was gained.
Baseball is in position to be the industry leader in the fight against performance-enhancing drugs. Selig, in fact, would argue that the sport already has earned that distinction by developing the most stringent testing in professional sports.
Sorry, but such breakthroughs are not enough. They might never be enough for a sport that, fairly or not, is held to a higher standard than any other. Baseball needs to push the envelope, and needs the union at its side.
So, other than mollifying Congress and trying to restore the game's image, you tell me what purpose the Mitchell investigation served. Mitchell, operating without subpoena power, never had a chance to conduct a proper investigation. The accused, terrified of consequences, never had a chance to say, "Wait a minute. Here's my version of what happened."
Without Kirk Radomski, the former Mets clubhouse attendant who spoke to baseball's investigators as part of his plea bargain, Mitchell would have little to show. Radomski, the senator's star witness, has pleaded guilty to steroid distribution and money laundering. Fehr warned anyone trying to fairly assess the allegations to consider, among other things, the "reliability of its source."
I'm so sick of all of them, never more than Thursday. Baseball shouldn't be picking another fight with the union. Baseball's opponent, as the Mitchell report shows, is the sport's enduring culture of cheating -- the lying players, the dealers who weasel their way into clubhouse life, the enablers in the executive suites, the rogue chemists who keep developing undetectable drugs.
Eye on the ball. Please.
advertisement
