Hate steroids? OK, prove it -- no NFL for you, By: Bruce Jenkins
August 12, 2006
In this wonderful baseball era we like to call Nobody Knows, specific lines are drawn. This column, which seems to be in the distinct minority, believes the steroid era cannot be unconditionally dismissed by the Hall of Fame. Many distinguished voices believe otherwise, although they're allowing for the passage of time to (ideally) bring some clarity.
Then there are those who, in a moralistic rage, believe in asterisks, rejection, public stonings and the removal of all steroid-tainted numbers from the record books -- even without proof of guilt. For those in that category, if you're listening, here are your television-watching orders for the autumn and winter:
No NFL.
Sorry, you can't go all high-and-mighty on the baseball front and then turn into a drunken fraternity guy on Sundays, toasting every colossal hit and recalling those glorious teams of the recent past. The NFL is the dirtiest sport this side of professional wrestling. It is veritably founded on performance enhancement. Somehow, the mood surrounding it has remained innocent and carefree, and perhaps that's good; at least somebody is enjoying something. But there's no way this drug-infested league should get off the hook among those demanding an even playing field.
Let's make two important distinctions from baseball right away. Football statistics are not nearly as sacred, and if you've ever been anywhere near an NFL sideline, hearing the sounds and witnessing the violence, you realize that you have to be a little outside yourself, physically and mentally, to play that game. You bet people look the other way and cover up the reports of steroid abuse; these guys are just trying to survive. They not only want an edge, they need it, badly.
Consider, though, everything we've heard over the years, and how blithely it is ignored. Steve Courson, who played for two Super Bowl teams in Pittsburgh, claimed the NFL's drug-testing policy contains "ocean-sized holes large enough to sail the Atlantic and Pacific fleets." Former player and head coach (New Orleans) Jim Haslett said steroid use was "rampant" 25 years ago, estimating that half the NFL players -- including all of the linemen -- used steroids in the 1980s (the league did not begin steroids-testing until 1987).
Bill Romanowski may have been a wacko, along the lines of Jose Canseco, but who doubts his wicked stories about NFL drug abuse? Wouldn't it be a certainty that steroid-juiced linemen blocked and tackled for Super Bowl-winning teams? Prosecutors identified a Dr. James Shortt as having issued illegal performance enhancers to seven former Carolina Panthers, most of them participants in the 2004 Super Bowl -- and the story had all the shelf life of a beach volleyball tournament in Aptos.
I'll admit, I'm one of the idiots. I have no time for this brand of outrage during football season, or any other season. It will be interesting, though, to watch everyone jump off the high horse in time for kickoff. For those of you now banned from watching the NFL on television, take heart in some choice alternatives this fall. The Tennis Channel will unveil a provocative new series on net cords, and "Skiing Oklahoma" takes you to the dangerous and seldom-challenged slopes of Enid.
Stop the madness
New NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell will have more pressing issues at hand, but here's something he needs to address: The many thousands of fans who devote their lives to NFL teams can't afford to attend and get blacked out of home games not sold out. It's an antiquated, elitist policy that must be changed . . . Interesting to see that the NFL (and this is no joke) will be monitoring centers who wiggle their fingers before the snap, thus luring defensive linemen offside. How about the fact that before virtually every snap, every lineman is offside to begin with? . . . Watching the Hall of Fame induction of Harry Carson, who had nowhere near the talent of the history's finest middle linebackers, it was appalling to think that Kenny Stabler hasn't joined the list of enshrined quarterbacks . . . Tony Kornheiser, the Washington Post columnist who makes his living as a humorist, won't pretend to be an expert when he joins Mike Tirico and Joe Theismann on ESPN's Monday Night Football crew. "The truth is, I haven't prepared at all," he wrote, not entirely in jest. "I can't believe anybody wants to hear my analysis. How much am I going to add by saying, 'Yeah, guys, that was a great tackle. Good hittin' out there.' " Kornheiser may speak more truth than he realizes -- to say nothing of the profoundly serious Theismann, who isn't likely to be in a joke-telling mood.
The A's will stay in the West race to the finish, and maybe win it, because the Angels have equally damaging injury problems. Ace starter Bartolo Colon is out for the season, Darin Erstad (the ultimate gamer) is one wrong move away from ankle surgery, and Garret Anderson hasn't been running at full strength for two years . . . Andruw Jones hit a ball 420 feet over the center-field fence after breaking his bat and leaving the box with a twig in his hand. Wily Mo Peņa reached down for a one-armed golf swing and hit one some 500 feet over the fountains in Kansas City. And you're telling me the balls aren't juiced? . . . Love the Cincinnati Reds and their raw desire, but let's not confuse all-out hustler Ryan Freel with that fraud, reliever Todd Coffey, who pulls a John Rocker-style sprint from the bullpen when called into game. There's no dignity in that nonsense . . . Patrick Arnold, the BALCO chemist who created "the clear," was sentenced to three months in prison and three months of home confinement. Yeah, that oughta teach him, along with all those budding chemists out there. It doesn't get much more severe than "OK, your five minutes in the kitchen are up. Back to the parlor."
