[The last paragraph is where the fun stuff is]
URL: http://www.edgeofsports.com//2005-08-03-146/index.html
Rafael Palmeiro and the Politics of Distraction
By Dave Zirin
A close compatriot of President Bush squats in a scandal so malodorous
it led news shows from coast to coast. It's a scandal that some say is
too hot for Bush to comment on. But there was the President, speaking
without a stammer or stutter on this issue of pressing national
concern.
There was only one curious twist. The scandalized bosom buddy was not
the bosomy Karl Rove, but Baltimore Orioles first baseman Rafael
Palmeiro. Yes, in an era of war and economic crisis, Bush took time to
rush to the defense of a four-time All-Star who has become the highest
profile casualty of Major League Baseball's steroid testing program.
Bush called Palmeiro a "friend" and said, "He's testified in public
[to being clean], and I believe him.... Still do." Presidential
lickspittle Scott McClellan also made clear at a White House press
briefing that Palmeiro has the full support of the Oval Office. It no
doubt will puzzle future generations (or present ones, for that
matter) why the President felt compelled to comment on what a 40 year
old ballplayer may or may not have ingested. But the reasons are clear
enough. This is a case of how the Bush administration's Politics of
Distraction have turned around to nip the President in the tush. It
all began at the January 2003 State of the Union address when Bush
inexplicably took time to talk tough on steroids. As New England
Patriots quarterback Tom Brady grinned next to the First Lady, Bush
put the plague of steroids on the front burner of the national
consciousness. This was Politics of Distraction 101, a classic ploy to
give the public something to chew over instead of those two pesky
countries the US armed forces happened to be occupying.
But a fly flew into the flaxseed oil when bankrupt former all-star,
Jose Canseco attempted to capitalize on steroid mania by releasing an
inject-and-tell book called, appropriately enough, Juiced. In Juiced,
Canseco names every buttock that cozied up to his all-star syringe.
Two of those cheeks, Canseco revealed, belonged to Palmeiro. The
repercussions were immediate. Palmeiro had always presented himself as
a Holy Joe, a rock ribbed Republican, a podium thumper for the
American Dream. Thanks to Canseco, Palmeiro found himself subpoenaed
and forced to testify in front of congress last March. Grimacing with
indignation, Palmeiro wagged his finger and said under oath," Let me
start by telling you this: I have never used steroids. Period. I don't
know how to say it any more clearly than that. Never."
The performance was convincing. So convincing Palmeiro was even named
to a Congressional committee that would work to "clean up the sport."
Canseco was the liar. Palmeiro the hero dragged through the mud. Never
mind that after Canseco joined the Texas Rangers Palmeiro's home run
averages jumped from 19 per year to 37. Never mind because the
steely-eyed Palmeiro made you believe that his anger was righteous.
Now, in the wake of this latest test, he looks like the one thing
worse that a liar: a sanctimonious liar. As Tom Boswell of the
Washington Post wrote, "In this culture, heaven help you if, after
playing that once-per-lifetime, I-swear-on-a-stack-of-Bibles card, you
get caught."
But Palmeiro thinks he can whip out those Bibles for an encore. In a
teleconference Monday, Palmeiro said, "When I testified in front of
Congress, I know that I was testifying under oath and I told the
truth. Today I am telling the truth again ...I have never
intentionally used steroids. Never. Ever. Period." [the guy has to lay
off the periods.]
Palmeiro's state of disgrace also means that we are now treated to the
sight of Canseco, last seen living with Omarosa and Bronson "Balki"
Pinchot on VH1's "The Surreal Life", posturing like Abe Lincoln,
parading around talk shows saying things like (and I love this quote)
"Palmeiro's test proves that almost everything in my book is true."
If we are now to accept Canseco's book as holy writ, we should also
remember that his Texas Rangers team had an owner named George W. Bush
who Canseco describes as "most certainly knowing" that the players
were on the juice. This went wildly underreported when the book was
released, largely because Canseco's credibility was in constant
question. Now that Canseco has morphed into Honest Abe, we should
start asking whether Bush should receive the next congressional
subpoena about steroids in sports. We should ask what Bush actually
knows and when did he know it. We should press Palmeiro on what his
friend in the owner's box, the former cheerleader from Yale, did and
did not allow. We should take these Politics of Distraction, which
Bush hoisted into our lives and drop the whole stinking, steaming,
anabolic load on his front door.