The Futility Infielder

Even with the official Pitchers and Catchers date opening training camps today, steroids are still at the top of the blotter in the absence of real baseball news. The fallout continues with regards to both Jason Giambi's press conference and Jose Canseco's allegations.

Canseco was interviewed by Mike Wallace on last Sunday's 60 Minutes, and if you watched it, you probably had to stifle both your gag reflex and your urge to smash the set. The mere sight of Canseco's oily, rippling, steroid-fueled muscles was enough to turn a stomach, but even more nauseating was his demeanor. Canseco was totally unrepentant in his interview with Wallace, smirking several times, blinking like a speedfreak, beaming with pride at his Johnny AppleSyringe admissions, claiming to have hit 600-foot home runs, and advocating the usage of steroids.

Wallace really only challenged Canseco once, when the big palooka's written characterization of injecting fellow slugger Mark McGwire "more times than I can count" translated into "I injected him probably twice" in the interview. Clearly Canseco's counting skills, like his home run swing, ain't what they used to be.

Boston Herald columnist Howard Bryant, who wrote Shut Out: A Story of Race and Baseball in Boston and who's working on a book about steroids, came off the best among the interview subjects, scoring points when he told Wallace, "I don’t recall baseball ever doing an independent investigation. They haven’t spent a penny, at least to my knowledge, to go out and investigate, and find out what’s going on with this steroid business." He also cautioned against the easy temptation to wave off Canseco's allegations:

"I think the reason why Jose Canseco is going to catch a lot of hell for his book is because people think he is full of it. He hasn't been credible. He hasn't been a credible player. He is a snitch, which is the worst thing you can possibly be in the ironclad baseball fraternity," says Bryant.

"He's done a lot of things to offend a lot of people. On this subject, however, I believe he does have some credibility."

While Wallace covered many of Canseco's basic allegations, Will Carroll points out that he missed several opportunities for tougher questions, such as twin brother Ozzie's involvement. Under the theatrical circumstances, it would have been fun to watch Canseco squirm as Wallace asked, "So how come you haven't ratted out your twin brother?" Carroll wonders why Canseco made no mention of sharing steroid secrets during his stops in New York, Boston, Toronto and Chicago, whether Canseco's spotty health history -- playing in 150 games only once after 1991 -- was also due to his usage, and what the value of his shooting up at the ballpark before games or batting practice was. I'd pay to see the episode where he gets to take Wallace's chair across from Canseco.

One camera shot of Canseco's book illustrated that the man's punches know no belt below which they can go. Chapter 15 is titled, "Giambi, the Most Obvious Juicer in the Game." Ouch. Richard Sandomir of the New York Times reports that Canseco writes that Giambi, "had the most obvious steroid physique I've ever seen in my life." But wait, there's more:

Canseco said that Giambi overused steroids and human growth hormone and got "so bloated, it was unbelievable."

"There was no definition to his body at all," Canseco wrote. "You could see the retention of liquids, especially in his neck and face; to those in the know, that was a sure sign of steroid overload."

With friends like that, who needs enemies? While Canseco's naming of names has focused on Giambi, McGwire, and Texas teammates Juan Gonzalez, Rafael Palmeiro, and Ivan Rodriguez, a few other players are apparently named as well, proving, if nothing else, that shit runs downhill. Canseco claims to have injected Devil Rays teammates Dave Martinez and Wilson Alvarez (now pitching for the Dodgers) and claims that Tony Saunders (he of the freakish broken arm) was abusing as well. He also says that he gave steroid advice to 2002 AL MVP Miguel Tejada and claimed that he shared whispers with Bret Boone about the latter joining the fraternity of juicers. In that incident Canseco, then playing for the (Wherever the Hell They Were Claiming To Be From in 2001) Angels, supposedly hit a double and pulled into second base gawking at Boone's physique:

"'Oh, my God,' I said to him. 'What have you been doing?' 'Shhh,' he said. 'Don't tell anybody.'"

Predictably, Boone has denied the story, and furthermore, spring training records for that game show that Canseco went 0-for-4 with no doubles, though he did reach base once. On the other hand, Boone's late-career power surge (in a pitchers' park, no less) and correspondingly bulked-up phsyique do fit a certain profile. I'm just sayin'...

Over to Giambi. The Murray Chass article I wrote about last week regarding the language of the slugger's contract ignited a firestorm of denial from the Yanks' top brass, and it appeared they had trouble keeping their stories straight. On ESPN's Mike and Mike radio program, Yankee GM Brian Cashman characterized Chass's story as "a lotta BS, it's hogwash, it's not true." But according to an article in the Newark Star-Ledger, Chief Operating Officer Lonn Trost again confirmed that changes were made to the contract:

But Trost, who drafted the contract and called the Times report "misinformation," said that those changes that were made gave more protection to the Yankees than they did to Giambi.

The wording was changed, he said, but not in the manner indicated in The Times article.

"Partial truth and half truths and incorrect statements always cause problems," Trost said. "The fact of the matter is we had a number of paragraphs that dealt with this subject matter. And there must have been 50 changes in those paragraphs before we finalized.

"Was the word 'steroid' removed as one of the changes? Absolutely. Why it was removed was foolish on their part and not on our part."

..."By taking that (wording) out, I was able to put in broader protection," Trost said. "I couldn't understand why they wanted (the changes) so it didn't bother me.

In today's Times, Chass catches up with the story, or at least his angle:

In their first draft of [the guarantee-exclusion] portion of the contract, the Yankees included a reference to steroid use. Arn Tellem, the agent, asked that all references to steroids be removed. The Yankees, eager to sign the player who two seasons earlier had been the American League's most valuable player, dutifully acquiesced.

...The Yankees claim to have the most extensive list of prohibited activities of any team in major professional sports. Let's give them that. If they're so careful, though, how could no Yankees executive wonder about Tellem's request?

...If nothing else, ask the question: "Jason, your request raises questions in our minds. If you want no references to steroids in your contract, does that mean you use or are thinking of using steroids? If so, we'd like to know because even though the collective bargaining agreement doesn't prohibit steroids, we are the Yankees and we play clean. We'd like your home runs and your runs batted in, but not if they are chemically produced."

But the Yankees didn't ask the question; they didn't challenge the object of their desire on the subject of steroids. They want us to believe their oversight was completely innocent, or worse, unimportant.

For a franchise that usually presents a unified front, the contradictions between Cashman's and Trost's versions certainly put a bit of egg on the Yankees' faces. Despite their denials and clarifications of the matter, they're hardly off the hook; if anything the latest twists in this story make them look even more foolish.

Lest anybody think the latest round of steroid revelations is over, they might want to invest in a new pair of hip waders. Today's New York Daily News brings us a belated Valentine in the form of an FBI special agent saying that a decade ago he warned MLB about the involvement of several players, including you-know-who, in using steroids:

Special Agent Greg Stejskal, who oversees the Bureau's Ann Arbor, Mich., office, said he told baseball security chief Kevin Hallinan that Jose Canseco and many other players were using illegal anabolic steroids. Stejskal's warning was based on evidence gathered during a far-reaching steroid investigation he conducted in the '90s, but the agent says the lords of the game did not act on the information.

"I alerted Major League Baseball back in the time when we had the case, that Canseco was a heavy user and that they should be aware of it... I spoke to the people in their security office. Hallinan was one of the people I spoke to," Stejskal told The News.

Hallinan "seemed interested," Stejskal said, but the agent says there was little baseball security could do about the problem. Major League Baseball and the union did not agree to a steroid testing program or disciplinary sanctions until 2002. A proposal during negotiations preceding the 1994 players' strike went nowhere. The FBI investigation focused on dealers rather than users.

Hallinan, of course, denied any such conversation with Stejskal, who recalls multiple conversations with the security chief and his office. It's another round of He Said, She Said, only this time it involves los federales and the the game's top officials, with the former accusing the latter of looking the other way. Greaaaat. In other words, it's going to get worse before it gets better. Hip waders, kids -- I can't recommend them enough.

Labels: steroids