But there's a third thing at work here too: A-Rod didn't need to do it.
I mean, some people might not have any forgiveness in their hearts for Mark McGwire, but I can't imagine anyone failing to understand why he would have used steroids (assuming he did): He was a workout fiend who relied on hitting home runs to play big league ball. He got hurt, and he turned 30, and his career was in jeopardy. Maybe he was using long before. Maybe not. But I don't think anyone could fail to see his motive.
Barry Bonds ... same thing. His case is not as sympathetic as McGwire's, but you could see why the man who was the best player of his generation might have gotten sick to his stomach watching the nation fall over Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa in 1998. It's not hard at all to imagine him muttering to himself, "They want a show, dammit, I'll give them a show they'll never forget." We've all seen enough gangster movies to understand what drove him.
Ditto Roger Clemens. He was written off at 33 and then he had his second pitching life, the back-to-back Cy Young Awards, the sick split-fingered fastball, the best strikeout numbers of his career. Sure, he wanted to keep it going. He got into his late 30s, his 40s, he wanted to keep it going. You can bet he STILL wants to keep it going. Nobody would question the competitive will of Roger Clemens
But A-Rod? Why? I thought he gave a compelling answer when Katie Couric asked him on 60 Minutes if he was ever even tempted to take steroids. He said no, and followed it with this: "I've never felt overmatched on the baseball field. I've always been in the strong, dominant position." That answer made sense, a lot of sense, why would A-Rod -- with gifts from the baseball gods -- need something from a syringe?
Of course, that's the sad part of all this. There is no why. As one baseball person wrote to me on Saturday: "We have to accept that people will do ANYTHING to succeed." And they will. It was never enough for A-Rod to be good, and it was never enough for him to be great, and it was never even enough for him to be the best. He had to be looked up to by children, and loved by women and admired by men. He had to be the guy who could do everything and look good doing it. He had to be the guy who came up with the big hit (and his failure to do so in the playoffs in New York probably tore at his soul and led to more failure and more). He had to be entirely unlike everyone else. He had to be A-Rod. And, when you think of it that way, it might seem a whole lot easier to understand.
I know lots of people are now tearing at Alex Rodriguez; he's raw meat in the lion's cage. A-Roid. A-Fraud. A-Lout. A-Jerk. A-Facade. I understand. I do have to say, I just don't feel that sort of anger toward him. I don't feel sorry for him either. I just feel like he's the emblem of his age.*
* By the way ... I haven't really seen this addressed, but I'm really confused by some steroid math.
It seems to be common knowledge that 104 players tested positive for steroid use in 2003. Right?
OK, to backtrack, it was said that more than 5 percent of players tested positive in 2003 -- that's why mandatory drug testing kicked in. It was reported then, and many times since, that between 5 and 7 percent of players tested positive. Those are the numbers you see again and again: 5-7 percent. I recall numerous stories at the time spinning the number, pointing out that "ONLY" 5 to 7 percent tested positive, and this proved that drug use was probably not nearly as common as people had assumed.