Relief, not surprise, in ’roid revelation

 

Sarah Green

 

So Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz are on that 2003 list of juicers, according to anonymous tipsters. Doesn’t it sort of feel like we’ve been waiting for this day for a long time? Am I the only one who feels a little, well, relieved?

I’ve felt very uncomfortable for many years as player after player has been fingered, only to have the Red Sox somehow stay out of it. The Mitchell Report, for instance, named major leaguers who had played for the Sox, but no one who wore a Boston uniform at the time he was accused of doping. I think most of us knew the other shoe would drop, eventually.

And as names from the 2003 list — which MLB promised to keep secret — have trickled out, you knew it was only a matter of time until that shoe fell. In fact, as names have leaked of players not on the Sox, it’s only made me more uncomfortable. When some Beantowners rejoiced at A-Rod’s comeuppance earlier this season, as he awkwardly tried to explain away his presence on the list, didn’t you sort of have the feeling we were throwing stones in a glass house?

While my level of shock at this news is somewhere between “0” and “0.01,” I confess I’m more surprised about Manny Ramirez than David Ortiz. When Manny tested positive for a banned substance earlier this season, I had conjectured that the aging slugger was relatively new to steroids; perhaps, looking down the barrel of his late 30s, he didn’t like the feeling of going ahead unarmed. That’s the theory about Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, anyway — that they didn’t start using until their careers appeared threatened. Looks like I was wrong.

And David? Sad to say, he fits a classic steroid-user mold: a mediocre slugger with a sudden surge in production, then a rapid drop-off. During his spring slump, I remember reading Bill Simmons, who acknowledged the steroid speculation: “One thing nagged at me: He wasn’t belting bombs that were dying at the warning track like so many other former ‘roiders.” Really? Have we not seen many an Ortiz bomb suddenly run out of steam just before it gets to the wall? You can only blame the wind so often.

We always knew there were juicing Red Sox — they just hadn’t been found yet. Manny and Papi are the first, but there will be more. Because telling a bunch of journos there’s a list of secret names they’ll never be able to publish is sort of like telling a room full of kindergartners that there’s a cookie jar of Double Stuf Oreos they’ll never be able to eat.

Two shoes down. An unknown number left to fall.