It's a good sign that this topic gets fans juiced

The answer, at least as it applies to Globe readers, is a resounding yes.

I stuck my toe in these waters last Thursday morning and in so doing displeased a great many people who feel I was either stupid or frivolous with my take on the Sammy Sosa story, the latest in a long line of revelations concerning the use of PEDs in baseball during the last decade and a half.

In an attempt to demonstrate just how difficult it is to evaluate people who are known or suspected PED users, I tried humor (well, I thought it was funny). I suggested that since we will never know exactly to what degree PED use affected performance, we should separate Hall of Fame inductees into three categories, the first consisting of admitted users, the second of those whose denials we reasonably know to be false, and the third of those we comfortably believe are clean. We do this by color-coding the plaques.

To many, that whimsical approach bordered on sacrilege.

“Hey, Bob Ryan, get your head out of your bucket,’’ began one communication. “These guys mentioned in your article are liars, cheaters and greedy slime bags - they do not get even moderate consideration for the Hall of Fame. Please wake up. Your vote is blinded by stupidity. With millions and millions of dollars at stake during their careers they chose to cheat and lie, for greed outweighed integrity . . . period.’’

My overheated friend can relax. I have not voted for Mark McGwire. I was merely joking to make a point.

But I love his passion. There’s a man who cares about the game.

As does this man: “I love sports. I love baseball. The simple fact is that cheating soiled something that I love. Period.’’

And how about this guy? “I say we try our best to keep the Hall of Fame clean. Keep the PED offenders, particularly those who lied about it, out forever.’’

They’ll get no argument from this man: “At this stage, I really think anyone found to have violated the PED rules, and thereby also having violated the law, should simply be barred from the The Hall, just as [Pete] Rose has been. PEDs are at least as harmful to the ‘integrity of the game’ as gambling, no?’’

You can’t get much more explicit than this: “You cheat and get caught, you lose. No ifs, ands, or buts.’’

Many were upset about an omission. I didn’t get into the idea of the leaks emanating from the list of 104 players who tested positive in 2003. I didn’t because I felt that was a separate topic, one that involves legalities. But that list is very much on people’s minds.

A sample:

“I concluded that you were implying that we should all move on. I am saying that we cannot move on until the [remaining] 102 are exposed and there is total assurance that PEDs are out of the game.’’

“I say MLB should contact the players, tell them they will not be punished if they decide to step forward, and allow them to get some credit for admitting their mistakes, rather than being outed, like Sosa and A-Rod. Otherwise, it will be death by 100 cuts . . . with everyone wondering who’s next until all of them are exposed.’’

“In the end, baseball is much more important than any individual player. Therefore, after warning the players, release all the names together. Otherwise, as they leak out (and they will), we are faced with a drip-drip Chinese water torture and a continual reminder of what was but should never have been. Get it over with, so Ryan-like columns can stop being written.’’

For many, the goings-on of the past 15 years have been out-and-out fraud. The game itself was tainted, and, worse yet, the fans have been asked to subsidize the lie.

Try this: “You can make a valid argument that Clemens and Bonds were HOF-caliber players before they partook of PEDs. What happened to their careers after that leaves me feeling cheated and used. They signed contracts for money that was as bloated as their bodies, and we fans got taken because we were expected to buy tickets and merchandise and all the goodies advertised on TV. Fans should look upon this era with their pocketbooks. How is this different from being sold a car that turns out later to have had flood damage?’’

The most popular theory is that there was a conspiracy to conceal the use of PEDs, and that the media were directly involved. We live in such a cynical time that many people cannot accept at face value the idea of someone simply not seeing something he or she wasn’t trained or, by nature, inclined to see.

For example: “You were naive and ignorant back then, Bob? C’mon, everyone knew McGwire and Sosa were on the juice, including you. You’re a chicken . . . for not bringing it up back then. This is an incredibly lousy article.’’

Or: “As fans, we all did continue attending and watching games. We’re not sitting here now preaching about how evil the whole thing is. Ryan and others are now claiming ‘they didn’t know,’ which is a bunch of b.s. They just chose to ignore it to save their careers, so, unlike us fans, they were self-serving protectionists. That’s why people are having problems with all of them!’’

The truth is, no one was saying anything back then. I do not recall receiving one phone call or letter in the summer of 1998 (this was before e-mail was prevalent) either raising questions about what was going on or chiding me for not reporting it. And that’s a fact.

I had wondered aloud what ultimate purpose was being served by the constant revisitation of history. Well, here’s one thoughtful answer.

“Ultimately, handle the issue. The answers to your questions about the endgame can only be found by fully investigating and hashing out what really happened. The endgame will be defined by the very process of investigating how widespread use of PED is, by debating its impact on the game, and by struggling with the questions of what that means. It’s the process of getting there that will define its own end.’’

I believe this next man sums it up for untold thousands, perhaps millions.

“You’ve been complicit in trying sweeping it under the rug,’’ he says. “But we (the innocent fans . . . and our sons) can see the big bulge as we step over the rug each day to try to enjoy the game that we love. Until the game is honest, it isn’t honest . . . period.’’

The important thing, I’m happy to report, is that people clearly do care. We all seem to agree on one thing, anyway.

It’s a game worth saving.

Bob Ryan is a Globe columnist and host of Globe 10.0 on Boston.com. He can be reached at ryan@globe.com.