Q&A With "Miracle Men" Author, Josh Suchon

By Matt Hurst

@ThrowbackAttack

It's rare that partners interview each other since they work closely together and have a good idea about what the answers are going to be.

After all, Crockett didn't interview Tubbs, Woodward didn't interview Bernstein, Batman didn't interview Robin, Mike doesn't interview Mike.

Abbott and Costello did get into a Q&A, back-and-forth, but that was only so they could truly find out who was on first.

However, as a Dodgers fan growing up and falling in love with baseball because of this miracle 1988 Dodgers team, I wanted to know more. I had helped Josh edit his book, Miracle Men, and was thrilled to be able to read his writing before nearly anyone else had.

We had talked a lot about the book — from when he first thought of the subject, to his pitch to the publishers, throughout his interviews and during the editing process — but I felt that there needed to be more known about the craft of tackling a subject 25 years in the making.

Why now? Why this team? Why you, a Bay Area native?

Find out ... then go buy Miracle Men.

Question: What first drew you to write about subject?

Answer: During the 2009 playoffs, I read Joe Posnanski’s excellent book on the 1975 Cincinnati Reds called, “The Machine.” Most of my reading came while flying back and forth to St. Louis, and then Philadelphia, on the Dodgers' charter. The book taught me so many things about the 1975 Reds that I never knew. I’d been thinking about writing another book for quite a few years, but hadn’t found the right topic. Reading that book inspired me to find another team that won a World Series and try to do the same justice that Posnanski did to the ’75 Reds.

Since I was on the Dodgers flight, and I was the co-host of Dodger Talk at the time, I naturally thought of a Dodgers championship. I originally thought of 1981. I thought the strike and finally beating the Yankees would make it compelling. I remember mentioning the idea to Josh Rawitch, who was the Vice President of Public Relations for the Dodgers at the time, as we ate lunch at Gobi on Sunset Drive one day. Rawitch told me that, incredibly, there wasn’t a definitive book on the 1988 team yet.

I knew that doing a book on the 1988 Dodgers would be interesting, and also excruciating for me, because I was such a massive A’s fan at the time. But I decided that my perspective would make it unique.

Q: This was one of LA's most beloved teams - in any sport - so were you surprised that nobody else had dug into this topic or this team?

A: Absolutely. That was why I initially thought of the 1981 season. I just figured there were a half-dozen books on that 1988 team already. My original plan was to spend the 2010 season researching and writing the book, then get it published in 2011. Well, I didn’t get around to doing anything that first year. I was too busy with my real job. Plus, I’d poked around a little with some agents/publicists and there wasn’t much interest. I didn’t want to write the book on spec and hope that somebody would publish it, or deal with self-publishing, so I actually gave up on the project for two years and pursued a few other ideas.

Q: You had a very personal side to this story, highlighted in Sports Illustrated and detailed in the book, so was the 1988 Dodgers a team you hated because of how invested you were in the A's as a kid?
A: Hate is a strong word. I hated what that Dodgers team did to my beloved Oakland A’s. I hated that I lost a lot of bets to kids at my high school. I hated that those incredible A’s teams went to three World Series, only won once, and that is overshadowed by the earthquake.

Even then, as a high school journalist, I could appreciate what an incredible story the 1988 Dodgers were. I didn’t care much for Orel Hershiser. OK, I probably hated him, if I’m being honest. Still, I recognized that Hershiser just got on this incredible roll, Gibson hit that miraculous home run, they got just enough breaks, the A’s fell apart, and a bunch of castoffs and journeymen made big plays.

I thought writing the book would be cathartic to the 15-year-old Josh. Writing the World Series chapter, and especially when I watched all those five games again, wasn’t very cathartic. The 15-year-old Josh might have yelled at the TV once or twice. But really, I’m over it. Honest.

Q: Working around the Dodgers for four seasons, how often was this team mentioned? Did all those halcyon memories from Angelenos and people within the organization draw your attention to writing this book?

A: Not really. Most of the time that 1988 is brought up, at least in my experience and doing PostGame Dodger Talk, it’s by fans and media reminding everybody the Dodgers haven’t won a World Series since 1988. The big story during the 2008 playoffs was that the Dodgers hadn’t won a playoff series since 1988. That’s when 1988 would be mentioned.

You can’t go a day or two at Dodger Stadium without seeing Gibson’s home run. There’s photos all over the ballpark and you see Gibson limping to first base when you walk out of the tunnel onto the field. Still, I didn’t sense a ton of people reminiscing about the team. It was more the frustration at how not being able to win anything since the Miracle Men of 1988.

I do think, however, that the longer the Dodgers go without winning a world championship, the more 1988 is looked whimsically.

Q: Looking back, how much can you appreciate this team and what they did considering how poor some of their stats were - offensively speaking - and who they had to beat to win (the 100-win Mets and the 104-win A's)?

A: One of the first things I did was just pull up the baseball-reference page to look at the roster and the stats of that team. You can’t help think, “how the heck did they win?” The only numbers that stand out are Hershiser’s. Even the stats for Kirk Gibson, who won the MVP award, don’t ‘wow’ you.

Now, in fairness to the Dodgers offense that year, scoring was way down across the sport that year. The year before, in 1987, home runs were dramatically up and that was when people first start wondering about a juiced baseball. Then in 1988, for whatever reason, scoring was way down – not just down from 1987, but also below most of the rest of that decade.

Anyway, I realized at that point this book wouldn’t have a lot of stats. It made me realize that a big part of my job in writing this book was telling people what I initially asked myself, “how the heck did they win?”

Q: What were some of the challenges in writing this book?
A: Tracking people down is always a challenge. This wasn’t too difficult because there’s an incredible number of people from that team who still work in baseball. Figuring out the best time and location for interviews is always a challenge. You want to get them in a setting where they can be reflective, not distracted by the day-to-day issues of their lives, and not just give generic responses.

I guess one of the biggest challenges is that people forget things, so triggering memories of the key principles isn’t easy. It had been 24 years when I was interviewing people. Games blur into games, and seasons blur into seasons for a lot of people in baseball. There were numerous times that I would ask a player about a specific game or play, and they would tell me, “I just don’t remember that.”

It became clear that Hershiser’s pitching and Gibson’s home run were such incredible moments, it made people forget a lot of the other key details from that season. So that was a challenge, but it also represented a great opportunity in explaining, once again, “how the heck did they win?”

Q: What were some of the reactions from the players/coaches/organization when you told them you were writing this book and started bringing up these memories for them?

A: A lot of excitement. Almost everybody said they looked forward to reading the book and wanted me to send them a copy. Vin Scully told me that after I talked with him, that he looked forward to reading about things he’d forgotten, and that gave me goose bumps. It made me realize that I was onto something really good here. It also increased the pressure that I better deliver a quality product. If all these people from that 1988 team are excited to read the book, I better not let them down.

Q: Everyone knows about the Gibson home run and Hershiser's dominance, but what more can readers learn about this team?
A: I was fascinated by how the team was constructed by then-general manager Fred Claire, plus the challenges he faced, the scrutiny that he was under, and how his peers viewed him skeptically because he didn’t have a scouting background. Fred was incredibly helpful and candid. His stories were priceless on how the team was assembled. He was one of the first interviews I did, and the rest of the research was so much easier because of it. The book he wrote about his career was very helpful too.

Steve Sax’s energy was the stuff of legends, and it was evident talking to him on the phone. I think he’s an underrated part of that team and I don’t think he gets the credit he deserves for overcoming the throwing yips.

Plus, that team essentially won because its pitching was so dominant, but the pitching staff was barely held together all year. The great Fernando Valenzuela had the worst year of his career and missed the playoffs with an injury. Tim Leary and Tim Belcher came from nowhere to dominate. All the drama with Jay Howell leaving the A’s (where I was among the A’s fans who booed him the year before), the pine tar incident against the Mets, giving up the home run to Mark McGwire in Game 3, then his mindboggling seven-out save in Game 4.  In retrospect, I wish I’d have given Jay Howell’s story more detail. His whole playoff experience that year was fascinating to document.

And even with Hershiser, I still don’t think his scoreless inning streak is appreciated the way it should. The main thing I took from Posnanski’s book on the 1975 Reds was an appreciation for Pete Rose and just how much he hated losing. I wanted to give the same level of appreciation to Hershiser. That’s why every other chapter is dedicated to the six shutouts. You have to remember, the streak occurred in September 1988 and was overshadowed all month. The Seoul Olympics were going on. Football season started, so you had the Raiders and Rams playing on Sunday’s in LA, plus USC and UCLA were Top-10 ranked teams playing on Saturday’s. Four of the six shutouts by Hershiser were road games, including the last two. Nobody thought he could do it. Mathematically, it was practically impossible to do it. It didn’t even become a huge massive story until the fifth shutout was done, and a lot of that centered on the controversy over the umpire’s calls. His performance in September was record breaking, then his performance in October was just chilling. I hope this book makes people view Hershiser in a different light.

Q: Who were some of the best guys to talk to when it came down to getting information and stories?
A: Again, it starts with Fred Claire. The book wouldn’t be very good without his help, especially the offseason chapter, the spring training chapter, and giving context to the trade of Pedro Guerrero for John Tudor. I really enjoyed the Tim Belcher interview. He was really candid about how he went from a prospect to suspect with the A’s because he couldn’t throw strikes, then just suddenly became a strike-throwing machine with the Dodgers. John Shelby told me stories I hadn’t read anywhere else. Tim Leary was really helpful too – great stories, and he graciously gave me his copy of the famed scouting report against the A’s.

And naturally, Vin Scully found a way to give me a couple nuggets at I hadn’t seen written anywhere previously.

Q: You've written a book about Barry Bonds and now about the Dodgers - are you trying to make yourself loved by both fan bases? Seriously, though, how much does that help show your range as an author?
A: I guess I’m trying to make sure everybody hates me. I grew up in the Bay Area and was surrounded by the whole “Beat LA” thing on a daily basis. I never hated the LA teams. I always would have rather seen LA teams win titles than East Coast teams.  Then once you go to college and become a journalist, colors and rivalries don’t matter. It’s all about the story. It’s also all about timing and access, and writing what you know.

I knew Barry Bonds because I covered the Giants for The Oakland Tribune in 2001 when he hit 73 home runs, so a book about the season seemed natural. I knew about the 1988 Dodgers because they broke my heart as a kid, and that was the first year I became an obsessive nerd about baseball. I went to 53 regular season A’s games. I’d usually arrive 4-5 hours before first pitch, get autographs, chase home run balls in batting practice, watch the game, stick around for post-game autographs, go home to watch SportsCenter, then do it again the next day. (As I’m sure you can guess, I wasn’t too popular with the ladies in high school.) I knew 1988 really well and it was fun bringing that year back to life.

Q: What's next for you, as an author?
A: First, a mental break. Hopefully, a few more projects eventually. I’ve got some ideas now. But since I just moved to Albuquerque to become the play-by-play announcer for the Dodgers Triple-A affiliate, I’m just trying to focus on my real job.

I really lucked out with Triumph Books. They were excited to work with me on this book, and I definitely enjoyed working with everybody. They came to me with another project a couple months ago. Unfortunately, I had to say no, because I didn’t have the time to do that book properly, at least not right now, from Albuquerque. Maybe in the future I can do that story. But I’ve got a few other ideas. Hopefully, Triumph Books will like those ideas as much as they liked Miracle Men, and I can work with them again soon.

For more information, and to purchase, Miracle Men, follow this link

FAQ about life in Albuquerque so far

--by @Josh_Suchon

Are you settled? Getting closer. Movers finally arrived yesterday morning. I did some furious unpacking last night, but there are still boxes everywhere. Nothing is on the walls. The cable/internet will get hooked up today. Last night was the first time in 10 days that I slept in my own bed.

This is the view from my office/broadcasting booth.

What do you think of Albuquerque so far? I haven’t seen much, except the ballpark, my formerly empty apartment, my cousin’s house, my aunt’s house, a couple sports bar, and a nearby café that provides free wireless. It’s not in LA, but what is? It seems like a good place and the people have made me feel right at home. Whenever I wear an Isotopes polo shirt, which is almost every day, I get a lot of "Go Topes" reactions. Oh yeah, the food options seem to be pretty spectacular.

When does the season start? This Thursday.

Can I listen online? Yes. The audio of every game is free online at http://www.milb.com/index.jsp. You can also pay to watch streaming video of every game. It’s $9.99/month or $39.99/year at MiLB.tv, although you will always hear the home radio feed. You can still hear the audio of me (for free) on road games, but you can only watch-and-hear me for home games.

How do the Isotopes look? We should have a good team. It’s a good mix of players with major-league experience and young kids in Triple-A for the first time. A humidor was added to the ballpark, which should cut down on some of the offense. More importantly, the Dodgers are now sending their best pitching prospects here, instead of avoiding this level and having them jump from Double-A to the majors. The big talk of spring training, outfielder Yasiel Puig from Cuba, is starting the season at Double-A, but we’re optimistic that we’ll get him here in Albuquerque soon. I have a bet with the Sports Editor of the Albuquerque Journal that we'll see Puig for at least seven days.

Inside the Humidor at Isotopes Park.

Uhh, what does a humidor have to do with baseball? It’s over 6,000 feet here and that elevation makes baseballs travel further. It’s also really dry here. When baseballs sit around in boxes for weeks and months in this dry climate, they get harder. Then when they are used in games, those baseballs fly even further. It’s like the baseballs become golf balls. Especially in the summer, baseball games turn into pinball games there’s so much scoring. This makes it very difficult for the Dodgers to evaluate players. Are the hitters really that good or are the pitchers that terrible? The major league Rockies were the first team to use a humidor, circa 2003. There’s a large enough sample size to definitively say that keeping the baseballs in a controlled environment gives the pitchers a better chance to succeed. The Rockies’ affiliate at Colorado Springs added a humidor last year. The Isotopes are using one this year for the first time.

What’s the story with the Isotopes nickname again? For the longest time, the team’s nickname was the Dukes because this city is known as the Duke City. That franchise left Albuquerque and was moved to Portland after the 2000 season. My former Dodger Talk co-host Ken Levine wrote a Simpson’s episode called “Dancin’ Homer” that first aired on Nov. 8, 1990. A nickname was needed for the fictional Springfield team. Ken chose Isotopes because: a) it was fitting for a town with a nuclear power plant; and b) it was a ridiculous name. (You can download the script here.)

Statue of Homer inside Topes Field.

In 2001, “Hungry, Hungry, Homer” was a Simpson’s episode in which Homer staged a hunger strike when he learned the Springfield Isotopes owner was scheming to move the team to Albuquerque. (This is also the episode that popularized the expression “meh.”) After the 2002 season, the Triple-A team in Calgary moved to Albuquerque. The fans voted on what should be the team’s nickname. Overwhelmingly, the fans chose Isotopes. As a result of this nickname, and a spectacular logo, the Isotopes are routinely in the Top 10 in merchandise sales in the minors. Inside the ballpark are statues of Homer, Bart and other Simpson’s characters. We’ll gladly accept your money if you want to visit the online team store and buysome cool Isotopes schwag.

If you’re a fan of Breaking Bad, the main character sometimes wears an Isotopes hat. He’s a big baseball fan and the show is filmed in Albuquerque. This summer, we’re hoping that Ken comes to town and throws out the first pitch. He better throw a strike, or else we’re booing the hell out of him.

What’s the relationship between the Dodgers and the Isotopes? The Dodgers provide the players, coaching staff and medical staff. The Dodgers pay a (high) percentage of the travel cost, plus the cost of balls and other baseball-related expenses. The Isotopes run the business side – the stadium, merchandise, clubhouses, tickets, advertising and promotions. I’m an employee of the Isotopes, not the Dodgers. When baseball returned to Albuquerque in 2001, they were a Florida Marlins affiliate. They’ve been a Dodgers affiliate since 2009 and are signed through the 2014 season.

The closest major-league team to Albuquerque is the Colorado Rockies, a 450-mile drive. There’s some Rockies fans here, there’s always Yankees and Red Sox fans in every city, and the couple sitting next to me as I type this from a nearby café are clearly Giants fans. But overwhelmingly, this is Dodgers country.

You fly everywhere? Almost everywhere. We fly commercial. That means a lot of 4 am wakeup calls to catch 6 am flights. I think there’s only one direct flight all year, so it’s a lot of layovers in Denver, Dallas and Houston. We’ll bus between Nashville and Memphis, Des Moines and Omaha, and a few other places. Yes, I get to keep the frequent flier miles.

When is your book on the 1988 Dodgers coming out? Wish I could give you an exact date. I thought it would be in stores by now. It could be any day. I received my author copies almost two weeks ago. I keep saying a couple more weeks. You can pre-order a copy now from the publisher’s website. If you want an autographed copy, send me a direct message and I can sell you one of mine. It’s $24.95 plus whatever the cost of shipping would be. You can mail me a check or PayPal me.

When are you coming back to LA? I’ll be doing book signings and other promotional appearances during the All-Star break, July 15-16-17. Also back in September for a friend’s wedding.

What’s the closest city to Los Angeles that you’ll play? Las Vegas on May 11-14, or Fresno from Aug. 3-6.

What’s the closest city to San Francisco that you’ll play? Sacramento on July 30-Aug. 2.

When’s the next time you’re coming back to the Bay Area? Maybe in October for another A’s-Dodgers World Series? Honestly, no clue. No plans anytime in 2013.

What are you doing when the season ends? I’m staying in Albuquerque. I’m a year-around employee. I’ll be doing sales for the team in the offseason.

Are you going to write another book? Of course. Need to get settled and focus on my new job first. Then I’ll pitch my idea to the publisher.

Did you really run Steve Alford out of town in less than three days? Absolutely. This town wasn’t big enough for both of us. He had no chance. Aztecs4life, baby.

"40 Before 40" checklist -- No. 17 -- see my Mom's house

Most people's "40 things to do before turning 40" lists don't include seeing their mom's house. That's usually a given. Not so in my case.

My mom moved to Sparks, Nev. a couple years ago. It's not an easy drive from Los Angeles. I've been busy. Whatever. I hadn't been there.

That changed at Christmas. I was hoping for a white Christmas. I got it. There's not much left to say. I'm just going to post photos and write captions.

This is my mom's dog Red guarding the house. 

This is me looking into the sky and trying to make it snow. It worked.

Feels like a Christmas movie when you're at your Mom's and it's snowing. 

Snow falling on the tree outside at night.

The next morning, lots of snow on the same tree.

Very nice white layer of snow at my mom's house.

All that snow fell in about 12 hours. I'm no snow expert, but that seems like a lot. 

Even in the snow, Red loves to play with his stick. Is he the cutest dog ever or what?

Got my white Christmas. I'm very happy. Now back to warm LA. 

Great few days with Mom and the rest of the family. Yeahhhhhh, finally saw her place.

After the Credits -- Hoosiers

After the Credits is an ongoing feature where we take the best sports movies ever made and give our opinion on what happened to our favorite fictional characters after the movie ended. Previous entries include The Natural, Bull Durham and Jerry Maguire.

-- by @Josh_Suchon

The movie ends with tiny Hickory High upsetting a taller and more athletic team from South Bend in the 1952 Indiana state championship game. Star player Jimmy Chitwood hits the game-winning shot. Head coach Norman Dale is vindicated. The fans rush the court in celebration. We then see cornfields, a sunset, a kid shooting hoops, and we hear a voiceover of the coach saying, "I love this team."

So what happened after the credits?

Head coach Norman Dale (Gene Hackman): This was clearly a what-have-you-done-for-me-lately town, so even winning a state championship did not lead to job security for Dale. Remember, he lost his previous job after hitting a student and he had a famous temper. He was actually fired a few games into the season, but only kept his job when star player Jimmy Chitwood decided that he would only start playing if the coach remained. The next season, without Chitwood, the Hoosiers crashed back to earth and didn’t make the playoffs. Midway through the following season, the town had enough of Dale and fired him. Dale was resilient, bouncing from job to job, at high schools, small colleges, and as an assistant in bigger colleges. He kept making great speeches and turned around some struggling teams, but always wore out his welcome. His modern-day equivalent would be Kevin O’Neill.

Assistant coach “Shooter” Flatch (Dennis Hopper): The town drunk was able to (mostly) clean up his act during the movie and serve as a valuable assistant coach to Dale. Like most alcoholics, it wasn’t easy for him to stay sober. He fell off the wagon numerous times over the years. Shooter didn’t get the head coaching job when Dale was fired. He was fired too, and that led to him getting back on the sauce. His knowledge of basketball was never in dispute though. Coaches throughout the country would seek him out to learn his philosophies, especially the perfect way to run “the picket fence.” These coaches kept money in his pocket and provided some stability in an otherwise chaotic life.

Myra Fleener (Barbara Hershey): The faculty member who didn’t like the importance that basketball was placed in the community was caught up in the excitement of the state title run in the movie. After the Cinderella season, her awkward relationship with head coach Norman Dale was doomed to fail. When he was fired, there was no way Fleener would follow him from random town to town, as he looked for his next basketball job. Fleener fell in love with another faculty teacher, somebody who didn’t care about sports, and they got married. They had five children, all boys. They all played basketball. Fleener reluctantly took them all to basketball practices, bought them high top Converse shoes, and still thought basketball was stupid.

Jimmy Chitwood (Maris Valainis): Big-time college recruiters didn’t know about the small-town prodigy until his heroics in the playoffs. Already a shy kid, the overwhelming attention made him uncomfortable. The public was obsessed with him and he was pressured into signing with the storied Indiana Hoosiers. His first year in college was a disaster. He didn’t like the huge campus, struggled with the expectations, and the coach didn’t allow him to shoot at will. 

Frustrated, Chitwood transferred to Indiana State. He thrived in the smaller environment and the coach gave him the green light to shoot whenever he wanted. Chitwood led the Cyclones in scoring his next three years, led the nation in scoring as a senior and the Cyclones advanced to the Final Four. That fueled a media frenzy of whether Chitwood could do for Indiana State what he did for Hickory four years earlier. Alas, the Cyclones were dominated by UCLA and the fairytale ended. Chitwood was a late first-round draft pick in the NBA, but struggled to get his shot off against superior defenses. He bounced around the NBA for a few years, made a decent living playing in Europe, and he’s now a renowned shooting coach. Jimmy Chitwood’s modern-day equivalent, naturally, is Jimmer Fredette.

Ollie (Wade Schenck): The team manager who was forced into a critical playoff game, nearly choked it away, and improbably won a game with two free throws wasn’t done with his 15 minutes of fame. Ollie hoped to get more playing time the following season. But the success of the team led to more kids trying out for the team. Ollie only played in garbage time. 

He kept his sense of humor, learned the nuisances of the game, and became a sports reporter for the local newspaper. His reporting was sold, and soon enough the Indianapolis Star lured him to the big city. Ollie covered college basketball, then the Indiana Pacers, and retired as a beloved sports columnist. His modern-day equivalent is Andy Katz.

Whit and Rade Butcher (Brad Boyle, Steve Hollar): Whit was kicked off the team early in the movie for disrespecting the coach at practice. He apologized to the team and returned. His brother Rade got in trouble in the opening game for shooting too much. After high school, they played junior college basketball together, then walked onto the Indiana State team. (The coach did anything to make Jimmy happy, including putting his old buddies on the team.) Both became high school basketball coaches.

Everett Flatch (David Neidorf): He was the son of drunken assistant coach Shooter. You might recall him punching an opposing player after Chitwood was intentionally fouled on a breakaway layup, then got shoved into a glass trophy case. Of course, he started drinking like his Dad. There’s a lot of pent-up anger in that kid. He became a high school basketball coach.

Buddy Walker (Brad Long): Buddy was also kicked off the team early in the movie, but mysteriously reappeared in a later game with no explanation for how he was re-instated. He became a high school basketball coach.

Merle Webb (Kent Poole): His most famous line was in the locker room before the final game when he told his teammates, “let’s win this one for all the small schools that never had a chance to get here.” He became a high school basketball coach.

Strap Purl (Scott Summers): He was the son of the preacher who during a timeout late in one game said an extra prayer for a teammate about to shoot free throws. He became a preacher … and a high school basketball coach.

The case for extreme penalties for PED users

-- by @Josh_Suchon

What’s the best way to get rid of performance-enhancing drugs in sports? One strike and you’re out. Forever banned. Think about how that would change an athlete’s willingness to press his luck on using PEDs.

Of course, that’s not realistic. False positive tests happen. Not all illegal drugs are the same. Sometimes there are legitimate mitigating circumstances that occur. Even if they’re blatantly guilty, people deserve second chances.

The next-best strategy -- and perhaps the only hope for those of us who do want to believe what we are seeing is real in sports – is two strikes and you’re done. If I were the Commissioner of sports, this would be my penalty system.

First offense: 365-day suspension with no pay. Not 50 games in baseball. Not four games in football. One year total. During that year, you can’t negotiate a new contract, even if you’ve become a free agent. You can’t practice with your teammates or workout at your team’s minor league complex. You can’t participate in minor league games as part of a “rehab” assignment. You don’t get service time during this year, your arbitration clock doesn’t run, you don’t appear on MLB-licensed baseball cards or video games.  You’re completely on your own for 365 days, with no pay, left on your own to stay in shape. After the 365 days is up, you can return your team (or sign with a new team), head to the minors or whatever is necessary to return.

Second offense: lifetime ban. No playing. No coaching. No managing. No scouting. No broadcasting. The only way you’re going inside a ballpark is if you purchase a ticket. If you’re banned for life that means your name is not eligible to appear on a Hall of Fame ballot. That takes the decision making out of the hands of baseball writers. Just ask Pete Rose what it’s like, not being allowed on the field (except for special moments like the 1999 All-Star Game) and knowing your plaque will never appear in the Hall of Fame.

Is this extreme? You bet. Damn straight it is. That’s the whole point.

I don’t agree with Curt Schilling very often, but we have the same opinion on this topic.

Of course, you need a truly independent panel to hear grievances and challenges to positive tests. The panel should be more than three people, and not include people from the players union or commissioner’s office.

It should be a jury of your peers. Perhaps a couple retired players, a couple retired front-office executives, a couple highly-respected members of the media, and a retired judge or arbitrator as the seventh and final vote. Have them serve a two-year term. Maybe the fans can vote for the judges. 

I’m not sure if it will make a difference. People cheat. That’s just what they do. Athletes are people. They will always look for an edge.

If this doesn’t work, then Matt Hurst is right, we should give up on having a clean sport and let athletes put whatever they want into their bodies. Hell, make it mandatory to take ’roids and televise the ceremonial pre-game needle injections.

But I’m not ready for that. Not yet. I still want my sports clean.

The only way to make it happen is the stiffest, most extreme penalties possible.

UPDATE: Cardinals slugger Matt Holliday agrees.   

The Case for Steroids In Sports

By Matt Hurst

@ThrowbackAttack

At what point does the public stop caring about headlines?

Look at almost any news cycle – be it in sports, or news or entertainment. There is the immediate interest, the follow-up reporting to keep you hooked, a resolution and then we’re on to the next one.

Whether it is constant wars and militant uprisings in the Middle East or parts of Africa, school shootings in the U.S., the latest with Britney Spears or a fake dead girlfriend, at some point we stop caring about the splashy headlines because there’s going to be something else to attract our attention.

That’s where we are with performance-enhancing drugs.

On Tuesday there were not one, but two PED-related stories that came out within hours of each other and momentarily drew some attention on Twitter and online. Yet seeing another set of athletes involved in a steroid scandal is no longer interesting or revolting. It’s become far too common and at this point it’s too easy to believe everything (deer antler spray barely registered a blip, right?), shrug your shoulders and assume that the majority of professional athletes in any sport are juiced.

And why wouldn’t they be?

The penalties are far too light – even baseball’s – for the athletes not to take risks and why would they give a damn if they get caught? They still get paid. The juice is definitely worth the squeeze.

Then it’s always a three-part process:

1. Deny steroid claims; discuss how hard you work out and that you’ve never tested positive.

2. Go into hiding as evidence builds; repeat step one in any interview.

3. Come clean; apologize, knowing the public will forgive you.

Part 3 of the PED Process.

Rather than feign anger or act surprised, as fans we should stop caring about steroid use.  Whatever rules are in place to prevent steroid use and clean up a sport, those who want to cheat will do so. They will find ways around it. Just think about how long it would take you, right now, to get a bag of marijuana, which is illegal in 48 states. And you’re probably devoid of any hook-ups or insider secrets that these athletes have in getting PEDs.

So let’s treat sports as what they are at the highest levels – entertainment.

Going to a game is like going to the movies. You pay for a ticket and hope to be entertained for a few hours. Vince McMahon runs a very successful empire on ‘roided up entertainment. Instead of creating the XFL, he should have created the SSL – Steroid Sports Leagues.

Tell me you wouldn’t want to watch players who are as juiced as possible doing amazing things in a sport. This would pull the cover off of everything. Strangely enough, it would legitimatize records and accomplishments because there would be a clear separation.

(Quick tangent – for those who are ever worried about records, then you’re not thinking to the times when baseball was segregated, when football didn’t emphasize the forward pass – or if they did, then the rules in place to accompany it – or when basketball didn’t have three-point lines. The game changes, folks.)

You mean a guy can play a punishing sport for 17 years,
be dominant in it, tear his triceps, come back
in the same season and we are supposed to believe he's clean?

We already don’t care that football players are using performance-enhancing drugs the way kids go through a bag of Skittles. Think about it – we don’t care whenever an NFL player gets popped for PED’s and is given a four-game suspension. It barely registers, something that’s in the agate part of the Sports section. There has never been a star busted in the NFL for steroid use, leading one to believe that the most powerful league in sports uses mediocre players as sacrificial lambs, suspending these lesser players to claim the league cares about this issue, likely hiding positive tests from the stars. Because, really, who would miss a third-string middle linebacker vs. a starting quarterback?

Look around the NBA – you really think that league is clean? And while there isn’t a regular test for human growth hormone, a pro athlete would be foolish not to use it during a long season and after working out to stay as fresh as possible.

The solution is not to make more rules and more tests, but to allow all professional athletes to use performance enhancers.

Of course, there is a trickle down effect based on this and here’s how to assure that youths, college athletes and minor leaguers don’t use, too. Put all the efforts of drug testing into the lower levels. Make it as clean as possible. Enforce a one-and-done policy where if you get caught, you’re banned for life. That way when someone makes it to the upper echelon, they did it on pure talent. Now, feel free to juice up and do things the human body wasn’t designed to.

It's all entertainment, right?

As fans, we’ll grab our popcorn and be entertained. If we want a clean version, we can watch college sports or the minor leagues. If we want to witness freaks of nature – once a compliment of a player and now a legitimate term – we’ll tune in.

As Maximus shouted in Gladiator: “Are you not entertained?”