Juiced became a New York Times bestseller, simultaneously rescuing Canseco from bankruptcy and hurling him into the national spotlight. At first the media discredited him. The U.S.S. Mariner, for example, called him out as an exaggerating opportunist, who had recently been so broke that he sold his Rookie of the Year trophy and World Series ring for quick cash. It wasn't until one of the key players he named, Rafael Palmeiro, failed a drug test in August 2005 that people finally started to believe Canseco. They figured if he was right about Palmeiro, then maybe he was right about the others too. From that point on Major League Baseball focused all of its energy on the still ongoing purge of steroids from the sport. The investigation culminated this past December with the release of the now infamous Mitchell Report, a convoluted, 310 page, he said, she said account of steroid use in baseball.
Now Canseco is peddling a new book called Vindicated: Big Names, Big Liars, and the Battle to Save Baseball. A continuation of Juiced, Vindicated is Canseco's attempt to clarify the names left out of the Mitchell Report, among them two more of America's favorite players, Ken Griffey Jr. and Álex Rodriguez. Neither of these players has ever been linked to steroids before, which makes one ponder the real motive behind Canseco's new publication. Does he genuinely want to clean up the sport? Or is it all about keeping his name in the headlines and making more money? While some signs may point to the latter, given how after Juiced Canseco's publisher told him he didn't have enough facts left for another book, we must to keep in mind that this is the same Canseco who once hit forty homers and stole forty bases in a single season. Any guy who sets a record like that, must truly care about his sport, right? Therefore, perhaps the title says it all for the book. Vindicated is more than another unapologetic memoir from José Canseco. It is his heartfelt attempt to use his newfound credibility to further aid in the cleansing, and thereby bettering of Major League Baseball. Or so he claims.
The fact is, for me at least, that I wonder if all this is really in the interest of bettering professional baseball. For starters, let me just say outright that I really don't care if the players took steroids. Yeah, they cheated. Yeah, it probably taints some of the records that were set. And yeah, it also made baseball pretty darn exciting in the process. Think about it. Where would Major League Baseball be today if it weren't for McGwire and Sosa's epic 1998 home run chase? I, for one, don't think I could stand to hear another story about 61 in '61.
The chase revived the sport in the minds of the American public, and captured the hearts of a whole new generation of fans. I know. I was one of them. We loved Slammin' Sammy and Big Mac. We wanted to be just like them. To be big, strong, baseball mashing, Brobdingnagian ballplayers. Steroids might be illegal, but come on, even a certain California governor endorses their use under the right circumstances.So they took steroids. So what? I'll remember watching that low line drive sail over the green left field wall in Busch stadium for the rest of my life. That's all that really matters, isn't it? Who cares if kids follow their example, and damage their health, ruin their futures, and further corrupt the integrity of sport? That's why we watch sports, for the chance to see something happen that we'll always remember. I may have missed out on the aforementioned 61 in '61, Hank Aaron's 755th, the 1978 pennant, and Charlie Hustle's 4,192nd base hit, but I'll always have the history I witnessed in 1998. No drug allegations (or admissions) should have the right to take that away.
The only thing that the steroid investigation has done for me is taint the future. In the years since they first came to light, I've been forced to doubt every major baseball accomplishment I've seen. Since 2001, Barry Bonds has bested some of the most hallowed records in baseball, and I'll be damned if half of America couldn't have been more ambivalent. No one cares anymore. Sure, baseball is doing the right thing in trying to cleanse itself now, but that doesn't mean it should ever have reached this point. A player as great as Barry Bonds doesn't deserve this kind of treatment. He should be loathed for his notoriously surly demeanor, not his questionable workout regimen, right?
What Major League Baseball should have done is taken a cue from the NFL, or for that matter itself, and brushed the whole issue under the rug from the start. Believe me, I wouldn't have been very hurt. Sure, there would have still been guys like José Canseco, who knew they could make a buck by spilling their guts in tell all memoirs. As long as the league continued calling him a liar and avoided putting its foot in its mouth, no one would have cared, right?
Just look at the players in the NFL. A blind monkey could safely assume, based on their body types that more than a few of them are on steroids. Or look at the athletes from the 1980s. Everyone knows that half the players tried blow at least once (and you're kidding yourself if you don't believe that). Neither of those things is some big mystery. The American public, in general, has at least a vague idea of what was going on. But as long as the leagues keep as much of their business "in house" as possible, no one cares. José Canseco had absolutely zero credibility until the league stepped in and started suspending players left and right. Bud Selig should have stuck to his guns, and dealt with it behind closed doors the way his predecessor, Peter Ueberroth dealt with 1980s cocaine abuse in the league. As long as he kept witch hunters happy by suspending a few major users each season, everyone else was able to go about their business (as long as no one found out), personal health, legacy, and the example they set be damned.
It truly is a sad day when I find myself equally expecting to see my favorite ballplayer on the dugout bench, or in front of a judge's bench (see Mark McGwire getting sworn in on the left). Yet, that seems to be the way things are going to be for the foreseeable future.
I know I can't wholly blame Major League Baseball, or José Canseco for my cynicism. Someday soon, the people who are really responsible for the current state of the sport must be held accountable. And with the release of Vindicated, that day moves closer. José Canseco is fighting for the integrity of the league. I just hope that all those long ball loving chicks are ready to bear the immense burden of blame that's coming to them.
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