Ex-clubhouse attendant may 'blow lid off' steroid saga

	Former Mets clubhouse attendant Kirk Radomski (front), shown here in 1989, pled guility to distributing steroids for a decade and is now cooperating with authorities. AP

Kirk Radomski, proprietor of a car detailing shop on Long Island, carries a squirt bottle and wears a serious look as he walks purposefully among a lineup of luxury automobiles. Radomski apparently knows cars -- and there's a nice array of autos to be detailed on this day -- but it's the details that he can provide about baseball players and steroids that could prove explosive.

Radomski, the Mets clubhouse attendant from 1985 to '95 whose name came to light last month when he pleaded guilty in U.S. District Court in San Francisco to distribution of a controlled substance -- a schedule three anabolic steroid -- to "dozens of Major Leaguers on teams throughout the league." Documents indicate that he had numerous major league players as steroid-buying clients and a partial paper trail through bank and phone records. And according to an acquaintance he may be "ready to sing'' to baseball's Mitchell Commission in a case that could send Radomski to prison for up to 25 years. He is due to be sentenced in the case on Sept. 7.

While Radomski has kept a low profile, associates say that he isn't shy about dropping some of the big baseball names who were clients of his, and one acquaintance quoted Radomski as telling him, "When you see the list, it's going to blow your mind.'' The source also said that Radomski told him that his testimony could "blow the lid off everything."

Approached on Monday at his shop and asked whether his testimony to baseball's Mitchell Commission on steroids in the coming weeks will be replete with big-name players, Radomski coyly responded, "It could be ... or it could not be."

Radomski said that he has been instructed not to talk publicly until after authorities are through questioning him (he may also be called to testify before grand juries and trials in future cases), and he did pretty well to follow that edict. He said "no comment'' a few times but he did eventually discuss a few aspects of his case. He backed away occasionally as he spoke, but never walked away and merely continued to work on a car. He also didn't say anything to dispute that he may be ready to reveal some of baseball's darkest secrets.

An associate of Radomski said he's often surprised by the openness with which Radomski speaks around the shop, which is tucked away amid an endless stretch of car dealerships and one-star Italian restaurants. But everything seemed like business as usual on Monday. Publicly, Radomski has followed his instructions to stay out of the spotlight. He hasn't spoken to reporters, and until now there's only been a sparse picture painted of Radomski, despite the fact he was in the Mets' employ for a decade and knows dozens of baseball figures, even beyond his former customers.

He's pretty much how his associates described him: a big galoot, polite and personable, a nice guy from the neighborhood (he's from the Bronx). One acquaintance called him an "average Joe," and beyond large muscles, that seemed about right.

One associate said that Radomski once had such a muscular build that it seemed almost "cartoon-like," and estimated that he was 6-foot-1 and 270 pounds of muscle. While it was hard to tell Radomski's current weight (he wore a loose-fitting T-shirt), he appeared to be well-proportioned. He had a close-cropped, Marine-style haircut.