Bonds, Clemens scapegoats to the end

Ortiz enters Hall alone, as writers render verdict

The Baseball Writers’ Association of America has rendered its verdict, but the debate over whether disgraced stars Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens belong in the Hall of Fame has yet to reach its conclusion.

Bonds and Clemens finished well shy of the 75 per cent required for entry into Cooperstown on their 10th and final year on the ballot. Arguably the best position player and starting pitcher of their era, denied yet again because of alleged links to performance-enhancing drugs.

Eligible voters served as the jury for the last decade and while support grew over time for the controversial standouts, neither one got particularly close to being enshrined on Tuesday night. In his last attempt, Bonds received 66 per cent support while Clemens finished slightly below at 65.2.

The writers’ duties are now over. The only remaining shot Bonds and Clemens have at the Hall is via the Today’s Game Era Committee, a 16person panel that examines the cases of managers, executives, umpires and players who fell off the ballot. That committee is tentatively scheduled to meet in December.

Previous reports of connections to PEDs didn’t have the same negative impact on former Red Sox slugger David Ortiz. The10-time all-star whose career spanned 20 years received 77.9 per cent of the vote to become the fourth Dominicanborn player to enter the Hall, joining Pedro Martinez as the only ones to do it on the first ballot.

The New York Times previously reported that Ortiz was one of 104 players to test positive for PEDs in 2003, his seventh year as a pro and first in Boston. Players who tested positive that year were not penalized, but a leaguewide PED policy was triggered for the following year because more than five per cent had similar results.

Unlike today, the results from those tests were supposed to remain confidential, and the substance Ortiz reportedly took was never revealed. During the initial fallout, Ortiz acknowledged he was informed of a positive test but claimed he never knowingly put illegal drugs into his body, suggesting

it likely came from an over-thecounter supplement he bought from a mall.

Ortiz’s denials might sound just like any other player who has been accused of cheating, but what makes his situation more complicated is that a few years ago commissioner Rob Manfred took the unusual stance of coming to his defence.

Prior to Ortiz’s final game in Boston in 2016, Manfred said it would be “unfair” to punish players who were on that 2003 list. Without mentioning names, Manfred said there were “more than 10” cases that came with legitimate scientific questions and may have been false positives.

If that happened now, a grievance would be filed and the situation would be investigated further. As things were, Ortiz never got to defend himself because the information was never supposed to be revealed in the first place.

“Back then, it was hard to distinguish between certain substances that were legal, available over the counter, and not banned under our program,” Manfred previously told reporters in reference to the test results that have long since been destroyed.

Manfred claimed no one knows, and no one will ever know, which of those cases should have been thrown out. That’s why he didn’t think it was something voters should be weighing when making their decision about the Hall of Fame. All but 87 of this year’s 394 voters appeared to agree with him.

Bonds and Clemens weren’t extended that same courtesy despite having never tested positive or being suspended for PEDs. They became the fall guys after being directly linked to performance enhancers through the Mitchell Report, which investigated drug use in the sport.

Outside of Manfred’s rare offhanded remarks and Pete Rose’s lifetime ban for gambling in 1989, which kept his name off the ballot entirely, writers never receive guidance from MLB or the Hall of Fame about who they should vote for. They are simply handed a list of five criteria: the player’s record, playing ability, integrity, sportsmanship/ character and contributions to their team(s).

With definitions that vague, voters are left to come up on their own standards. That involves casting judgment on stats and drawing an imaginary line in the sand for those who should be kept out for poor behaviour. Where that ethical line goes is different for everyone.

This columnist needs to wait a bit longer before getting a Hall of Fame vote, but if I had submitted one this year Bonds, Clemens and Ortiz would have been on it.

I’m not proud about that — who would be? — but supporting their cases feels better than randomly identifying scapegoats when it’s almost guaranteed other cheaters are already in. Since MLB turned a blind eye for at least a decade, there’s no way of knowing who was using and when, so why bother trying to differentiate?

There should have been other ways to handle this.

Those accused of using PEDs in those days could have asterisks on their plagues with explanations of their reported crimes. A separate wing could have been created that outlined how the entire era was tainted because MLB ignored widespread drug use — possibly even condoned it — and a lot of players used it to their advantage.

Instead, the BBWAA has been trying cases based on morals clauses for more than a decade without all the facts.

An incomplete trial was enough for some writers to differentiate guys such as Bonds and Clemens from Ortiz, but it wouldn’t have been for me. Instead, after Bonds and Clemens were shut out yet again, I’m left wondering how baseball can celebrate a historical institution that only tells half the story.