It has not been a great summer for power-hitting baseball players stained by steroids.
New York Yankee Alex Rodriguez's quest to hit his 600th home run has generated less anticipation than Chelsea Clinton's wedding dress. Manny Ramirez slipped deeper from the awareness of Los Angeles Dodgers fans, and 39-year-old Jason Giambi struggled to remain a relevant substitute on a Colorado Rockies team that has joined a growing list of teams quietly increasing their emphasis on pitching.
Although an unexpectedly high number of compelling stories this season has pushed the steroid issue off center stage - to the delight of owners and the players union - it'll still be years before the sport completely shakes the stigma of synthetic statistics.
That lingering shadow of suspicion is the curse steroid users and nonusers have to tolerate.
The guilty and innocent alike have earned millions in exchange for their production. But if there's any justice whatsoever, the known offenders will deal with lifelong ostracism. It should come from fans but, more important, from their peers.
All of us do things we live to regret, of course.
But when Rodriguez hit No. 599, I couldn't help but wonder if he had any idea of how much Dale Murphy wanted to reach the 400 mark.
Battered by injuries and too proud to remain a roster burden, Murphy retired in 1993 at age 37 with 398 homers.
Andres Galarraga and Al Kaline left with 399 home runs. Johnny Bench and Graig Nettles, two of the best defensive players ever in addition to their legitimate power, weren't able to reach 400.
Then there was Frank Howard, who probably was the strongest player in baseball history during a career that basically began in 1960 and all but ended in 1972, although he played bits and pieces of '73 at the end and '58 and '59 at the start.
At 6 feet 7 and 270 pounds, Howard hit 382 home runs, several of which came on check-swings and one-arm swings.
During a three-season stretch with the old Washington Senators (now the Texas Rangers) in the late '60s, Howard hit 44, 48 and 44 homers. He did it on awful teams and in the middle of a lineup that afforded him zero protection.
But for all of his power, Howard was never able to reach his longtime goal of hitting 50 homers in a season. On steroids, he might have hit 100.
Those questions of "what if" and "is he clean or is he dirty" are the ugliest aspects of a legacy created by the cheaters.
