Another brick was laid in the wall this week — the massive wall of evidence that baseball was riddled with steroids for more than a decade.
The latest shoe was dropped by an otherwise obscure clubhouse assistant for the Mets named Kirk Radomski.
From 1985 to 1995, his day job was working as a bat boy and equipment manager. On the side, according to his guilty plea in federal court on Friday, he sold anabolic steroids, amphetamines and human growth hormone to dozens of Major League players.
It’s hard to be shocked at any of this anymore. But Radomski’s plea bargain looks like the tip of a very big syringe.
Radomski’s case was handled in San Francisco and yes, it is part of the infamous BALCO scandal. BALCO, of course, is the infamous Bay Area Laboratory Co-Operative that is strongly suspected of bulking up Barry Bonds, Jason Giambi, et al with a chemical cocktail of performance-enhancing drugs.
Lots of jocks breathed easier when they learned that none of Radomski’s client’s names were revealed in his plea agreement. Those same sluggers, however, might be experiencing some shortness of breath when they read that Radomski has agreed to cooperate with federal and baseball investigators still trying to unravel Steroidgate.
As Travis Tygart, senior managing director and general counsel for the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency, told the Associated Press, “If you’re a player that was using and receiving steroids and other performance-enhancing drugs from Radomski, I think you are pretty nervous right now.”
Let’s hope so. The feds have been trying hard to deconstruct BALCO for several years. Major League baseball was far more reluctant to admit there was an elephant in the locker room. Lately, however, it is ramping up its efforts with a study led by former Senate Majority Leader George Mitchell.
While all this is going on, of course, Bonds is getting closer and closer to becoming the game’s all-time home run champ. He has 741 as of this writing and needs 15 to pass Hammerin’ Hank Aaron. That’s about a month-and-a-half of slugging for Bonds.
Looking at the Giants’ schedule, we see that they host the mighty Yankees on June 22, 23 and 24, a Friday-Saturday-Sunday series. I think it’s safe to say that the series will receive white-hot media attention if Bonds is on the verge of hitting No. 756 by then.
The Giants play my beloved Cardinals on July 6, 7 and 8, another Friday-Saturday-Sunday series, but the thing should be over by then.
The All Star Game is in, of all places, San Francisco this year on Tuesday, July 10. That guarantees more Barrymania in a sport that is desperately trying to pretend this nightmare isn’t happening.
How fitting that the steroid story is growing right along with Bonds’ records instead of fading away. It won’t stop him from passing Aaron, but it will remind everyone how he did it.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Steroid secrets
Friday, April 20, 2007
A sweet shoe story
This week, when the horror at Virginia Tech was sinking in, I had an encounter with a student that restored my faith in human nature. It was a real Leave It To Beaver moment, and I haven’t had anything like that happen in my life.
About 7:30 a.m. on Wednesday, I was stumbling around the house trying to wake up myself and a couple of our kids.
Suddenly, came a knock on the door.
I thought it was one of my son’s friends, but it wasn’t. It was a polite young boy … with a strange request.
“Excuse me, sir, but I fell off my bike in front of your house. I stepped in some mud in my new shoes. Can I use your hose to clean it off?”
It took a while for my foggy brain to register all this. After a while I was able to blurt out, “Uh, sure. C’mon in the backyard.”
So I led this kid through our house into the backyard. I turned the hose on a low stream. He stuck his foot out, and I gently hosed off the goo on his shiny new shoe.
“I got them at Steve and Barry’s,” he said proudly.
He thanked me profusely. I said something profound like, “Sure. No problem.”
And with that, the lad went back out the front door, got on his bike and went to school.
I know: I probably broke six different laws by admitting a child into my house without notifying the police and providing three references.
And when the kid got home that afternoon and told him mom what happened, you know she said, “What!? You went into a strange man’s house! Don’t ever do that again! He could have been a perv!”
She’s right, of course. I could have been a perv or a serial killer or a drug dealer. Kids should not go into stranger’s homes or cars under any circumstances.
But even though we both broke all the rules, I couldn’t get over how trusting that kid was.
He had mud on his new shoe. To him, it was a big deal. He went straight to the nearest house — mine — so he could clean up.
A couple of generations ago, no one would have given that incident a second thought. Nowadays, with kidnappers and creeps on our minds, well, we don’t do things like that.
Maybe so. But I was cheered that whole day by the child’s innocence, and the fact that I was able to help him.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Sticker solution
Finally, America’s top researchers are focusing on a problem that has been crying out for a solution.
No, I am not talking about world peace or aiding the needy. I am talking about something we all care about — getting rid of those annoying stickers on fruit.
The Associated Press reports that a Georgia company has developed a laser that etches labels onto the skins of fruits and vegetables. The etchings — “indelible but edible” — would carry the product information or point of origin now included on those darned labels.
Durand-Wayland Inc. needs an OK from the Food and Drug Administration to begin zapping zucchinis. The feds need to greenlight this one.
As it is, bureaucrats have been sitting on the application — three inches thick, no less — for two years. Seems that any use of radiation on fruit, even the weak light of a laser, is considered a food additive and must be thoroughly reviewed.
Can you say “overly cautious”? If the government had dragged its feet like this when we were fighting World War II, we’d still be fighting World War II.
Those stickers are more irritating than being trapped in a phone booth with Ann Coulter and Don Imus. Consumers never read them — they’re too small anyway. And who cares if you have a “1021” apple instead of a “1022”?
Don’t even get me started on the adhesive used to stick some of the stickers. Have the busybody bureaucrats ever studied whether that goop causes hair loss or weight gain?
A spokeswoman for the Produce Marketing Association said the laser etchings are intriguing. I say they’re just a few steps below a cure for cancer.
The laser vaporizes the top layer of fruit and vegetables, thus exposing lighter layers underneath and allowing numbers and letters to be read.
It supposedly works well with fruit like peaches and plums, but not so well with cantaloupes (not smooth enough) or brown potatoes (weak contrast between upper and secondary layers).
Tough beans, I say. If a few spuds have to be sacrificed in the March of Progress, well, they are expendable.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Short circuit -- the sequel
Last week, this blog panned Circuit City for its Dickensian policy of laying higher-paid workers and replacing them at lower wages with … many of the same workers who had just been laid off.
A follow-up is in order.
Circuit City is the nation’s No. 2 electronics retailer. Its main competitor is — surprise! — the nation’s No. 1 electronics retailer, Best Buy.
This will sound like a commercial for Best Buy, but it shouldn’t.
Prior to Circuit City’s controversial announcement, I frankly didn’t think there was much difference between the two. When I needed a computer or electronic gizmo, I had no problem with checking out both of them — or whichever one was closer.
The point of all this is that maybe Best Buy is No. 1 for a reason.
Circuit City’s retail strategy, if you can call it that, is apparently to run its stores with as little help as possible — and pay them as little as possible.
Best Buy, on the other hand, is focusing on a quaint strategy called service from employees who are motivated and appreciated.
Best Buy has a “greeter,” one of those guys who says, “Welcome to Best Buy” when you walk in the door. Sure, it’s corny, but at least it shows they care.
Best Buy employees are also trained to approach customers soon after they enter the store and ask them if they need any help. They do not stand around and wait for the customer to come to them.
This shouldn’t sound too surprising — though it will to some short-sighted suits — but Best Buy’s approach seems to be working better.
Best Buy enjoyed an 18 percent rise in fourth-quarter profits. Circuit City took a fourth-quarter loss. Best Buy has 800 stores to Circuit City’s 650.
Why? Because consumers appreciate a little attention from someone who knows a little about the product.
What a revolutionary concept. I wonder why someone didn’t think of it earlier.
Oh, that’s right, they did, about a jillion years ago, before Big Box retailers thought they could get by with a couple of cashiers up front and a take-a-number-approach to customers who wanted help.
Finally, something old-fashioned is in vogue again. It’s about time.
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