But the source of
Barry Bonds's newfound power wasn't God at all. It was growth hormone and Greg
Anderson. And now new drugs known as the Cream and the Clear.
After the 2000
season ended, Anderson had wanted someone to introduce him to Victor Conte.
Conte was the owner of a once-failing business that finally seemed to have
turned a corner, thanks largely to sales of ZMA, a legal supplement that was of
dubious value but was endorsed by several prominent athletes in exchange for
the highly effective--though illegal--performance- enhancing drugs Conte
provided by way of his network of sophisticated chemists and suppliers. The
gross income of Conte's company in 2000, according to court records, was $1.18
million, up from $42,820 two years earlier. BALCO was around the corner from
World Gym in Burlingame, where Anderson spent virtually every waking hour and
where he trained Bonds. Anderson had learned of Conte's reputation as an
innovator in the business of performance-enhancing drugs.
The publicity
machine was gearing up for Conte and his company, and he had it figured out. He
would encourage elite athletes to wear ZMA T-shirts and hats and talk up his
supplement to the bodybuilding magazines. In exchange he would help them reach
new levels of success, setting up an elaborate system to ensure that his
athletes could obtain and use effective performance-enhancing drugs without
fear of getting caught. His regular clients at the time included several elite
track and field athletes and NFL All-Pro linebacker Bill Romanowski, among
others.
Although Olympic
athletes faced the toughest steroid policy in sports, Conte came to realize
that beating the testers was not difficult. He worked to provide a broad menu
of drugs that were hard to detect. Among those he ultimately offered were
growth hormone; erythropoietin, or EPO, the oxygen-boosting drug; the diabetes
drug insulin, which also was particularly potent when cocktailed with other
substances; norbolethone, a.k.a. the Clear, a powerful anabolic developed by
Wyeth Laboratories in the 1960s but never brought to market (possibly because
of doubts about its safety); a testosterone-based balm that Conte called the
Cream; and the narcolepsy drug modafinil, a powerful stimulant that athletes
took directly before competing.
Growth hormone and
insulin were completely undetectable. The EPO test couldn't detect all forms of
the drug. Testers wouldn't screen for norbolethone, a drug that had never been
marketed. And the Cream was a mixture of synthetic testosterone and
epitestosterone that concealed what would otherwise be telltale signs of the
use of an undetectable steroid.
Conte created a
simple "alphabet" shorthand for his drugs--for example, "E" for
EPO, "G" for growth hormone, "I" for insulin--to be used on
calendars he and the athletes kept. The calendars would list when athletes were
scheduled to take which drugs, and they also indicated the dates of
competitions so that the drugs' effects would be peaking at the right time.
Conte also kept a ledger that detailed the types of drugs athletes were using,
as well as the results of blood and urine tests conducted on the athletes.
Conte engaged in this "pretesting" to make sure his athletes would pass
drug tests.
Conte was very
pleased to do business with Bonds's trainer. It meant he could add the greatest
baseball player of the modern era to the BALCO stable of athletes. At minimum
it was another big name Conte could drop on the Internet chat boards, another
celebrity whose name and photo could be exploited to promote his business and
himself. "Barry takes ZMA every night without fail," he would write on
one board. "Barry is a big fan of ZMA."
Anderson,
meanwhile, sold Bonds on Conte by dropping the names of the Olympians and NFL
stars already using BALCO. Of course the real BALCO program had little to do
with ZMA--instead, it gave Bonds access to state-of-the-art drugs like the
Clear, which other elite athletes had begun calling "Rocket Fuel" and
"the magic potion." A BALCO connection had additional value because it
provided Bonds with a cover story for his radically transformed appearance.
Now Bonds could
insist that he built his muscular body with intense weight training and the
modern science of nutritional supplementation. In baseball, a sport that didn't
even test for drugs, the cover story seemed good enough to protect the
reputation of Bonds, the Giants and the game itself. Like all good cover
stories, it contained some truth.
There was no
question Bonds had worked brutally hard in the gym in the off-season. Later,
Conte and Anderson would persuade Bonds to plug BALCO and ZMA in a feature
story and photo spread in Muscle & Fitness, the bodybuilding magazine.
Conte also put Bonds through a battery of blood and urine panels. According to
the pseudoscience used to shill for BALCO's legal products, to obtain maximum
athletic performance it was important to remedy minute deficiencies of zinc and
magnesium with supplements, starting with ZMA. Bonds's own doctor drew his
blood, which Anderson transported for testing. In July 2002, Bonds allowed a
writer for The New York Times Magazine to observe his weight training. That
story portrayed Anderson as more of a nutritional technician than a tattooed
gym rat.