Check the orchard, because Bonds ain’t the only rotten apple

George Mitchell would like us to believe the report bearing his name will “bring to a close this troubling chapter in baseball history.”

Not quite. In too many ways to consider here, his examination of the Steroid Era opens new chapters of conversation. And controversy.

Let’s begin with the implication of Roger Clemens, Mitchell’s biggest bust.

If nothing else, linking a pre-eminent pitcher to performance-enhancing drugs forces fans and media to reconsider a world where Barry Bonds may no longer deserve to be baseball’s No. 1 miscreant.

If Bonds’ home run records deserve an asterisk, as his harshest critics erroneously contend, shouldn’t Clemens’ pitching lines the last few years receive the same cynical assessment now that we think we know what sort of rocket fuel he was using?

If people are actually serious when they say Bonds must be shut out of the Hall of Fame because he improved his performance with illicit drugs, will there also be a popular movement to bar Clemens from Cooperstown? If not, why not?

When Bonds was indicted on charges of perjury and obstruction of justice in November, it was as if Mardi Gras had come early for Barry bashers. The fed’s treatment of Bonds was seen as just punishment for a player who isn’t easy to like, doesn’t play ball with the media, and had the nerve to pass Babe Ruth and Hank Aaron in home runs.

Though Bonds’ legal troubles can only be blamed on arrogance – it’s never smart to lie under oath – more than any single person, he has suffered for baseball’s sins. When his fall appeared imminent last month, he became the big pinata at the center of a down-with-steroids party.

To no one’s surprise, Bonds is named in the Mitchell Report. Ho-hum. But by shining a light into dark corners, the report also poses a challenge to Bonds haters. Uh-oh, now what do you do?

Are you prepared to rebuke good-guy Yankees pitcher Andy Pettitte with as much anger as Bonds? Does Clemens receive the same searing scrutiny as the Home Run King? Are Miguel Tejada’s slugging feats disparaged as gleefully as Bonds’?

Do you grant a player a pass because he’s a nice guy? Or because he plays for your favorite team? Or because your son wears his jersey?

And what about the journeymen mentioned in the report, players who allegedly used steroids to remain in the big leagues, taking the places of players who wouldn’t cheat? Do you cut them more slack than Bonds? If so, why? Anyone who isn’t willing to assault the character of Clemens, Pettitte and so many others on Mitchell’s list with the same fanaticism used to assail Bonds is, to put it nicely, practicing situational ethics.

If you’ve still got enough energy to do it, hold Bonds in contempt; that’s your right. But there’s plenty of disgust to go around.

This is said with an understanding that the quality of evidence produced by the Mitchell Report differs from player to player. Naturally, some information is being dismissed as mere hearsay. We’ll never know how much to believe, but if nothing else, the report helps us understand how rampant steroid use has been.

As for reaction to the report, outrage among fans is expected to be a mile wide and an inch deep. We can’t expect uniformity from the public. All the polls indicate that an overwhelming majority of people say they are disgusted by baseball’s drug issue. Many of these same people are so offended by juiced players that they flock to the ballparks, helping Major League Baseball set attendance records three seasons running.

When it comes to the Steroid Era, there’s been a confusing disconnect among fans – they say one thing and do another. But then, the game’s First Fan doesn’t set a very good example.

Thursday’s TV coverage brought us the not-unexpected sight of Bud Selig letting himself off the hook. Thrown a softball question – would he accept partial responsibility for the Steroid Era? – the commissioner never took the bat off his shoulder.

If the Mitchell Report doesn’t hit America like a fastball to the ribs, it’s because everybody is suffering from a case of steroid fatigue.

That, too, has been blamed on Bonds. Now he’s got a lot more company.

Bob Molinaro, (757) 446-2373 or bob.molinaro@pilotonline.com