Ryan Braun stood behind a podium and, like a coward holding an assault weapon from behind a tree, began firing into the masses. He tore a page from Lance Armstrong’s “I’m Innocent” playbook, ripping critics, shredding the evil media, stomping on the character and integrity of any perceived lesser and defenseless being along the way, like the poor testing official who supposedly mishandled his urine sample.
But amid his pathetic, though somewhat amusing, ramblings — “I will continue to take the high road because that’s who I am.” Yeah, right — Braun managed to hit on one absolute truth when his initial drug suspension was overturned 17 months ago: “We’re a part of a process where you’re 100 percent guilty until proven innocent.”
He was right. It’s unfortunate. It contrary to our judicial system and the way we’re supposed to think and act. But the reality is that baseball’s image has been so soiled by the use of performance-enhancing drugs, statistics are so skewed by chemistry, that now there is a tendency to disbelieve any significant achievement by any of the sport’s wonderful athletes.
Here’s what Braun failed to say: Baseball’s image is tarnished because of creatures like him. It’s one thing to cheat for personal gain. It’s another to become so vehement in denials that you attempt to take down everybody with you and then, only after being presented with overwhelming evidence that you are both morally and professionally bankrupt, excuse it all with: “As I have acknowledged in the past, I am not perfect.”
Ryan Braun is a pig. Not only does he not deserve to keep his MVP award from 2011, he and others like him don’t deserve to keep their careers in major league baseball. The thought of lifetime bans is an extreme step, but it might be time to take it — so says Dale Murphy.
Murphy played over 18 seasons in the majors, mostly with the Braves. His idea of a performance-enhancing drug was a Flintstones chewable. Somehow, he still managed to win two MVP awards, five Gold Gloves, seven Silver Sluggers and go to seven All-Star games. Go figure.
Murphy acknowledged, “My generation made some mistakes that led to this” — a reference was to the players’ union fighting drug testing for several years because, “We thought it was an invasion of our rights. But as time has gone on, guys have realized this is bad for the game.”
Murphy believes Braun’s actions are so damaging to baseball that players and owners need to consider lifetime bans now. He’s convinced it’s going to happen.
“I think we’re moving toward a step of zero tolerance, where careers will end with a positive test,” he said.
“I’ve thought about it. Why not? If baseball finds out that you gamble or you hang around gamblers, you’re done. Why is it not the same for drugs? To me it’s the logical sequence of events. We’ve gone from where we were protecting players, back when I was playing, to now saying it’s bad for the game and suspending guys for 50 games. You don’t go from no testing to lifetime bans in (a short time period), but I think that’s where we’re headed.
“Right now it’s 50 games (for a first-time violation of baseball’s drug policy). But what’s that to a guy making millions? You can’t tell me that a guy like Ryan Braun wouldn’t think twice about going to a (drug clinic) in Miami if he thought his 10-year contract would be null and void.”
Bringing home Murphy’s point: Braun’s suspension for the remainder of this season will cost him $3.85 million in salary. But his contract has another seven years and $127 million remaining. That kind of money will buy an army of image consultants. And if his image never is repaired, will he care with $127 million?
Murphy also noted comments by Milwaukee general manager Doug Melvin, who hardly came off as apoplectic when Braun’s suspension was announced.
“He talked about how happy they were to be moving forward and that this was all over,” Murphy said. “What if he wasn’t getting Braun back next year? If you’re really serious about this and you want to get rid of drugs, you have to be willing as an owner (and team) to say goodbye to the player. This works both ways. What if a No. 1 draft pick from two years ago is tearing up Triple-A and you’re ready to call him up and then he tests positive. Are you prepared for the kid to get kicked out of baseball?
“I think the climate is getting there. I think the players are ready to take that leap. They’re furious. The owners have to be ready to take that leap, too. They have to be ready to say goodbye to players like Ryan Braun.”
Players like Braun have ruined it for the guys doing things right. There are levels of cheating. It starts at the bottom: an outfielder pretending he caught the ball when he trapped it; a pitcher hiding an emery board in his pocket so he can scuff a baseball. But performance-enhancing drugs take things to unacceptable levels, particularly in baseball, a sport long defined by numbers (56, 61, 714, 755). Drugs attack the integrity of the game. Braun was juiced the year he won an MVP award and hit .500 in a playoff series that saw Milwaukee eliminate Arizona in five games. How do you feel today if you’re the Arizona Diamondbacks, who lost the series, or the Los Angeles Dodgers’ Matt Kemp, who finished second in MVP voting?
Braun endeared himself to no one, including players, with his denials. He lied to everybody — fans, friends, teammates. He smeared the reputation of a testing official, Dino Laurenzi Jr. He doesn’t come off as the least bit remorseful for any of this.
After getting a suspension overturned in February 2012, Braun referenced “inaccurate, erroneous and completely fabricated stories” about his reported positive drug test. He added, “I truly believe in my heart, and I would bet my life, that this substance never entered my body at any point.”
That’s all we need to know about his heart, his memory and his character. In a sport seeking to clean its image, there’s no place for him.
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