Last week, Major League Baseball conducted its annual amateur draft. For hundreds of high school and college players, to be drafted is the first tangible step toward realizing the dream of playing in the big leagues. There are few things more enjoyable in my business than talking to a kid like Jason Place, the South Carolina teen ager who was the Red Sox' first pick, and hearing the joy and wonder in his voice as he imagines playing in front of crowds that he believes are the ``best fans in the world."
But what kid ever aspired to a future in which federal investigators, armed with a search warrant, invade your home, looking for evidence that you were using performance-enhancing substances like human growth hormone and steroids?
It was open season on Jason Grimsley last week. According to the New York Daily News, investigators took Grimsley's telephone and answering machine from his home office, his financial and phone records from a TV stand, his checkbook, and his cellphone.
Not exactly fodder for one of those MLB ads in which players exclaim: ``I live for this."
No one lives for this. Grimsley's life is ruined -- your level of sympathy for someone who knowingly cheated is up to you -- and baseball is now confronted with a problem far greater than whether Barry Bonds will overtake Henry Aaron or a bunch of sportswriters will vote Mark McGwire into the Hall of Fame.
Bud Selig may have been slow to act initially, in part because the players' union was so dug in with its resistance to any testing. But if it is not yet manifestly clear that MLB is doing enough to stem the tide of performance-enhancing substances in the game, it will be when more names surface in the coming months.
And they will, beginning with the names Grimsley gave up that were blacked out on court documents. There undoubtedly will be others, too, given the strong likelihood that Congress gets back in the act -- the Grimsley affair took place in Arizona, home state of one of baseball's most outspoken critics, Sen. John McCain -- and the investigation being conducted by former Sen. George Mitchell, which lacks the subpoena power of the feds but is under considerable pressure to deliver findings of substance.
It was easy to heap scorn from afar on Bonds, an unlikable character under the best of circumstances. But what happens when the scandal hits much closer to home? Will it diminish the joy you felt that the Red Sox won the World Series if one (or more) of your heroes was cheating? That some of the great moments about which you feel most passionately were artificial creations?
So far, the evidence suggests that most folks are not likely to be overly upset about having cheaters in their midst. Bonds still gets standing ovations when he plays in San Francisco, and with Jason Giambi belting home runs at a pace comparable to his pre-BALCO days, the Yankee constituency sees no evil.
But when a Jason Grimsley gets busted -- a guy who bounced around from team to team and accomplished very little in the game other than to survive for as long as he did -- then it's no longer just the guys with the cartoon-sized dimensions who are under suspicion, it's the rank and file, too.
Does there come a point where we turn away in disgust from the whole mess and say, ``No mas"? So far, that hasn't happened, maybe because the pill-popping and injecting in sports isn't much removed from the Botox/Viagra/Ritalin world we live in, where there is a pill or injection to address every need.
But with HGH now openly in play, baseball no longer has the luxury of saying that there is no adequate test and therefore it is powerless to do anything. Blood testing appears inevitable, despite the debate over whether a sufficiently accurate test has been developed. Short of that, baseball may have to listen to those who advocate that blood samples be taken and stored until a trustworthy test is in place, that the threat of exposure down the road will act as a sufficient deterrent.
This much is certain: By the time Jason Place is old enough to be in the big leagues, the landscape is likely to have changed dramatically. It won't end with steroids and HGH. The designer steroids are coming as fast as the chemists can make them, and genetic blood doping is not far behind.
This is not just about baseball, either. Pick a sport, any sport. Does anyone really believe there will ever be a level playing field? And will anybody really care?
Sweeney is a loyal Royal
After Rafael Palmeiro was busted for steroid use last season, one of the Orioles players who voiced support for him was Jason Grimsley.
``He's my teammate. I'll go to war with him any day," Grimsley said.
Grimsley was with the Royals when he tested positive for steroids in 2003. One of his closest friends, Mike Sweeney, regarded as one of the rock-solid people in the game, said he is standing by Grimsley.
``He's a great friend," Sweeney told the Kansas City Star, ``and he's one of the best teammates I've ever had. Until I see some facts, I'm going to support him. Rather than tear the guy down, it's our job to build him up."
Sweeney also addressed intermittent rumors that he had used steroids.
``I'll put my hand on the Bible or my children's [head]," he said. ``I know I've never taken any steroids, any performance-enhancing drugs, or any growth hormones.
``I've never done any amphetamines or greenies. I've never done marijuana. I've never even had a cup of coffee. I'm proud to say I'm clean."
Varitek's Bronx-itis comes and goes
Jason Varitek has some unusual history against the Yankees, especially in Yankee Stadium.
In 2004, he did not have a hit in Yankee Stadium during the regular season, then hit .321 with 2 home runs and 7 RBIs against the Bombers in the ALCS, going 7 for 16 in New York.
Last season, he hit .353 against the Yanks, with 4 home runs, but this season he was 1 for 26 against them until collecting three hits, including a home run, in Yankee Stadium Thursday night.
``We've had pretty good luck with him," said Yankees manager Joe Torre last week. ``You look up there, he's hitting .230, .240, and you know he's a better hitter than that. I think it's a combination. We've pitched him pretty well, but I think he probably hasn't found his stroke yet."
Torre, like Curt Schilling, also suspects Varitek's gluteus injury has something to do with his slow start.
``That's all part of it," Torre said. ``Hitting is all about comfort. He's a gamer. He's not going to let anything keep him out of the lineup if he can stand. You know that just by the experience of watching him. We've made some good pitches, but still he looks like he's been struggling, just looking at his batting average."
Said Schilling, ``That's why catching is the hardest position to play in professional sports, that and quarterback in the NFL, if you want to be good at it. That's why the guys who catch 140 games a year wear down at the end of the year."
Just as David Wells once wished that someone would blow up Fenway Park, Varitek could be excused for entertaining similar thoughts about Yankee Stadium. But that's not the case.
``I've had some good spurts here, I've had some bad spurts," he said. ``It's not the place. This is a fun place to play."
Etc.
Material from personal interviews, wire services, other beat writers, and league and team sources was used in this report. Gordon Edes can be reached by e-mail at edes@globe.com. ![]()