Just last week, in this very space, I wrote a
The e-mails poured in, one after the other after the other.
How can you be sure?
How do you know?
How is anyone certain?
The e-mails are right.
Griffey Jr. remains a clean player. But, really, what does that mean anymore? That he never used? Uh, no. That he probably never used? Uh, no. That we (gulp) hope he never used and think it's something of a possibility? Yup.
Thursday afternoon, Major League Baseball announced that
In the recently released
"Manny's like the absent-minded professor," says Rhodes, a professor herself (of clinical psychology, not of the insane arts Manuel Aristides Ramirez) at UMass-Boston, who spent four years reporting the book. "I do clinical psychology, and he's the toughest case I've ever had. He's very contradictory. Humble one minute, then striking a Rocky pose at home plate. Generous, but very guarded about his money. And now this. If it's true, well, it surprises me. Because Manny's been consistent his whole life as a baseball player."
Ah, if only that meant what it used to. Back in the prehistoric, pre-Mitchell Report days of, oh, two years ago, journalists like myself felt comfortable taking educated stabs at who was using and who wasn't. In press boxes around the country, conversations went thusly:
Hmm ... I really don't think so.
My personal list of sure-to-be clean players included the likes of Griffey,
Mitchell Report -- page 244.
So now here we are, yet another sure-shot Hall of Famer disgraced, dismissed and branded a cheat. Inevitably, 50 games from now Ramirez will return to Dodger Stadium a "changed" man. Teammates will offer inane-yet-supportive words like, "With or without drugs, he's a great hitter" and "If Manny says he's innocent, he's innocent."
Then Manny will hit a home run. The crowd will go wild. The Dodgers Dogs will sell like crazy.
And, without fail, all will be forgiven.