ShareThis-- Editor's note: Scripps Treasure Coast Newspapers sports columnist Ray McNulty covered the New York Mets, New York Yankees, Los Angeles Dodgers and Colorado Rockies in the 1990s.
Newspapers didn't send out teams of reporters to investigate the use of steroids or other illegal, performance-enhancing drugs.
Not in the 1990s.
Not even after it became obvious to everyone that the players were getting freakishly bigger and bulkier, and so were their home run numbers.
So we in the media, particularly the sports media, must swallow at least some of the blame for allowing the steroids scandal to permanently stain the game and turn baseball's once-sacred record book into a grim fairy tale.
It's inherent in our role as journalists, whether we cover the White House or the ballpark, to serve as watchdogs and expose corruption. And for most of what forever will be known as the "Steroid Era" in baseball -- a shameful period that stretched roughly from 1990 to 2004 -- we failed.
Players cheated.
We didn't catch them.
But it wasn't because we didn't try. It wasn't because we didn't notice players being transformed into cartoon characters and batted balls taking off like tee shots. It wasn't because we didn't ask the question.
Some of us did.
Some of us did confront players with the steroids issue and asked the tough questions.
Back in 1997, in fact, while covering the Los Angeles Dodgers for the Orange County Register, I waited until we were alone in the clubhouse -- the rest of the team was on the field, taking batting practice -- and asked Mike Piazza directly: "Have you ever used steroids?" I was reminded of that conversation recently as I read a couple of pieces penned by two of my former baseball-writing brethren in New York.
Two weeks ago, the New York Post's Joel Sherman wrote about the steroids suspicions surrounding Piazza, the former Dodgers and Mets catcher, citing his acne-covered back. Then, on Wednesday, former Times writer Murray Chass followed up with a column on his Web site, where he wrote that the acne on Piazza's back suddenly disappeared in 2004, when Major League Baseball began testing for performance-enhancing substances.
The implication was obvious, especially considering how Piazza went from being a 62nd-round draft pick in 1988 -- he was selected by the Dodgers only as a favor to his father, a close friend of then-manager Tommy Lasorda -- to the No. 1 home-run hitting catcher in major-league history.
Steroids cause back acne. Piazza had back acne. Therefore, Piazza must've used steroids.
But did he? I don't know.
Probably, I never will.
Oh, it's possible the same insider who ratted out Alex Rodriguez will leak the rest of the much-publicized list of the 104 players that tested positive for steroids in 2003, when the results were supposed to remain anonymous.
Its also possible Piazza, if he did juice, eventually will want to clear his conscience.
And, yes, it's possible Piazza, eligible for the Hall of Fame in 2013, was telling the truth when he told Sherman he "absolutely" was a clean player.
I hope so.
I always liked Piazza, always got along well with him.
Yet, after all we've learned about baseball and steroids the past few years -- I'm afraid the MLB-sanctioned report by former U.S. Sen. George Mitchell, who got no cooperation from the players or their union, merely scratched the surface -- nothing would surprise me.
Not anymore.
Nothing should surprise you, either.
It shouldn't surprise you that baseball writers, most of whom care more about the game than the millionaires who play it, saw what was happening throughout the 1990s and into the 2000s and cared enough to ask why. Nor should it surprise you that some of us did, indeed, confront players with our suspicions.
We tried.
We asked.
But once we asked and the players denied, there was nowhere else for the baseball beat writers to go. We were too busy covering the teams on a daily basis -- writing multiple stories for multiple editions, breaking news, traveling -- to launch any in-depth investigations into steroids use.
So after Piazza told me he didn't use them, after he said his baseball success was all due to hard work, after he claimed the back acne was caused by heavy perspiration from wearing catcher's gear, there was no story to write.
Because there was no proof.
Any story about Piazza and steroids would've been -- and still would be -- nothing more than speculation based on suspicion. But such stories, in the wake of the "Steroid Era," can now be written. The guilty have damned the innocent.
And that's sad for baseball.
And even sadder for journalism.
But given our collective failure to make the commitment that was needed to thoroughly investigate the steroids scandal and expose the corruption in baseball, we have only ourselves to blame.
We needed to do more than ask.
(Contact Ray McNulty at ray.mcnulty@scripps.com.)
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