Tasser: Steroids hurting baseball’s credibility, add to its excitement

Major League Baseball hit another low this past week, as more of last decade’s stars lost… Major League Baseball hit another low this past week, as more of last decade’s stars lost their credibility.

In a time when baseball should be trying to reclaim some of its lost popularity from the money-hungry NFL, it instead continues to pick up the pieces resulting from its recurring scandals.  Yet, while baseball is starting to lose its prestige, it is simultaneously gaining in its excitement.

Controversial home run king Barry Bonds was convicted of one count of obstruction of justice Wednesday — for giving an evasive answer under oath more than seven years ago. Three other counts he faced were thrown out — one for lying about steroid use, one for lying about human growth hormone use and one for lying about receiving an injection from someone other than a doctor.

The seven-day trial ended nearly seven years of legal battles against Bonds. His conviction comes on the heels of dreadlocked and free-spirited outfielder Manny Ramirez’s latest tribulation.

Ramirez, the former Boston Red Sox superstar, retired from the Tampa Bay Rays last week after he learned he faced a 100-game suspension for failing a second drug test.

A second failed test certainly cannot simply be explained using the popular phrase “Manny being Manny.”  The carefree outfielder is often given a break for his follies in leftfield and awkward interaction with fans, but this is a much more serious offense. His first failed test came in 2009, when Ramirez was a member of the Los Angeles Dodgers.

Now the question I ask you is this: “Was the Steroid Era really that bad?”

I, as part of the minority, say no. Baseball’s history is littered with cheating — and it’s a widely accepted part of the game. From stealing signs to spitballs, baseball has embraced the mantra, “It ain’t cheating if you don’t get caught.”

Old school fans will argue about the sacredness of records. My retort is a big, fat, “Who cares?” Personally, I love baseball statistics and records.

But that is why I recognize that baseball goes through certain eras that profoundly affect the way the game is played and the records that are produced.

What about Cy Young’s 511 wins? In his era, pitchers pitched every inning, every fourth day. Closers, lefty specialists and middle relievers weren’t even heard of.

And Rickey Henderson’s stolen-base record of 130 stolen bases in one season, should that be tossed out too? Every team ran way more in the 1980s (Henderson was caught stealing a record 42 times that year).

Despite all those trends erased from today’s game, should they be tossed from the record book? I think not.

Besides, at its peak, the Steroid Era did something for baseball — and the country.

Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa’s epic summer of home runs in 1998 helped revive baseball from its deathbed — where it was sent after the 1994 players’ strike (are you listening NFL?) — and I will never forget it. Fans were glued to their seats all summer to see if either of the two could break Roger Maris’ single-season homerun record of 61, which both proceeded to do.

What little boy in all of the country at that time didn’t want to be McGwire, whose jacked arms were crushing homers left and right? Or Roger Clemens, whose death stare on the mound before he fired a fastball underneath the batter’s chin gave viewers the willies? Or Sammy Sosa, whose home run hop and complicated kiss-chest-point at the sky was imitated all around the country?

My bottom line is this: Most players were on steroids —and power was the evolution of the game. Instead of hating the game that basically encouraged it (no steroid testing at the time) and the players (chasing the glory and their paychecks), look instead at yourself.

If you were in their shoes, could you realistically say that you wouldn’t even think of doing the same? If you said no, then you might be lying. I’m not saying I would have taken that route, but hindsight is always 20/20.