Issue ii: A-Fraud? [i love to say it. i told you so.]

Right now Jose Canseco is probably pointing at his newest book, Vindicated and laughing out loud.

For those of you not familiar with the man, Canseco was a once Hall of Fame bound slugger who played for a myriad of baseball teams, including the Oakland Athletics, the New York Yankees, and the Texas Rangers. He was also one of the most vocal advocates for the controlled use of steroids and performance-enhancing drugs that the sport had ever seen. After his perceived blacklisting from Major League Baseball, the man wrote a tell-all book named Juiced. The man was demonized as a jilted and spiteful ballplayer who was out for revenge against those who he felt had wronged him. As a result of a media campaign he believes was waged by the MLB and the owners and commissioner, he was widely discredited and considered a washed up has-been looking to bank some quick coin.

That is, until the Mitchell Reports came out.

Suddenly, it didn't seem like Canseco was spouting lies and garbage as much as the truth. Many of the players named in his first book were also named in the investigative report issued by the United States Congressional group in charge of figuring out how far and how deep the steroid scandal existed. Canseco was suddenly credible again. He had told the truth, suffered the consequences, lost his friends, and was suddenly considered one of the main reasons baseball's dirty laundry was aired. He felt, well vindicated.

Which was the title of his next book, wherein he released several more names to the list of players he had either injected personally or he suspected had juiced up.

Roger Clemens, currently under legal fire for alleged perjury in a Congressional Hearing, was one.

Alex Rodriguez was another.

Which brings me to this weekend. After my girlfriend and I came back from an unseasonably enjoyable February walk, she logged onto Yahoo and broke the news to me. Sports Illustrated had released a report concerning what should have been an anonymous steroid test that MLB had designed to serve as an indicator for the depth of the steroid issue among players. Among the 104 major-leaguers (about 5% of those tested) that tested positive in 2003, you can find Alex Rodriguez's name. Perhaps it wouldn't have been such big news if A-Rod hadn't won the American League MVP and broken the 300 home run mark for his career. If you're wondering why Rodriguez didn't receive an automatic suspension or other punishment, it's because MLB didn't levy any punishments or fines against players testing positive in '03.

When I heard the news and listened to the wall to wall coverage on ESPN, I can honestly say that I wasn't least surprised to hear that another future Hall of Famer was implicated with the use of steroids. As just a casual baseball fan, I wasn't shocked by another blow to the already iffy integrity of a tainted game. I'm sure that all sports have their problem with juicers and users looking for that extra edge against the competition, but baseball seems to have the most problems with players publicly getting outed. Maybe because baseball is considered a national sport. Maybe because baseball is multi-billion dollar industry that pushes the authentic jerseys of super-stars for hundreds of dollars so that children can wear their heroes' clothes to the game. For whatever reason, it's harder and harder to trust the motives of not only ball players, but of the organization itself. This period of baseball is always going to be the Steroid Era. Nothing will ever change that. For now, every time a McGuire, a Rodriguez, a Sosa, or a Clemens is accused of juicing up, I doubt very much the fans will surprised. In fact, right now, ESPN First Take just realized an interactive poll that said 34% of the people who took the survey said that they weren't disturbed at all that A-Rod tested positive (as opposed to the 37% that said they were very disturbed). It won't be until 10 or 15 years down the line, when all the players from the Steroid Era have retired that fans can truly trust the game again.

Whether these baseball greats used steroids to achieve fame, money, fan dom, to level the playing field, or even a quick way to get a ticket punched to Cooperstown [where the Hall of Fame is located at in New York], whenever the players are accused of use, not only their reputation is tarnished, but also the reputation of the game that they're supposed to love.

As for the fans, both casual and diehard, the question is whether or not to forgive the players who used. Jason Giambi's and Andy Pettite's scandals have been largely forgotten after they admitted using and moved on. Others, like Clemens and Barry Bonds are looking at potential legal action and jail time (respectively) for vehemently denying any wrong doing.

It looks like the fans could be willing to forgive A-Rod, provided he admit it and move on. In his defense, there is no indication that Rodriguez has ever tested positive after 2003. He should just be honest with the fans and admit that yea, he used. Yea, so was everyone else. He cheated, he should admit it, and he could still cement his legacy as one of the greats of the game. Try honesty A-Rod. The people that love the sport and love seeing the greats swinging the big bat will probably forgive you, especially if it was only the one time in 2003.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the U.S., Jose Canseco woke up February 8th feeling absolutely great. He was, well, vindicated again. And if some reporter were to interview him, I could picture him pointing at copies of his two books and saying, "Yea, I love to say it. I told you so."