The most important man from the steroid era might not be the formerly florid sluggers with their pock-marked scapulas and orbital home runs brought to you by HGH.
It might not be Barry Bonds, the man many consider to be the symbol of the steroid era. It might not be Bud Selig, who along with other commissioners and owners buoyed their bank accounts off the cartoonish biceps and juiced stats of the help. It might not even be the greatest coward of the entire steroid generation, Mark McGwire, Mr. Invisible, Mr. Gutless himself.
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| Fans clamored for autographs from a jacked David Segui. (Getty Images) |
It might not even be former Senate Majority Leader George Mitchell and his soon-to-be-released report, which is more anticipated than an Oprah Book of the Month selection, and could have considerable teeth and depth.
No, the most important figure from the steroids era is a man who until recently few had ever heard of, which is odd, since for a decade he was apparently invaluable to dozens and maybe hundreds of baseball players.
He was a body builder, a massive man, and also the prototypical jock-sniffing, athlete enabler. The fact he could squeeze a small automobile with his bare, bulked-up hands might have been a dead giveaway the guy was peddling performance-enhancing drugs to anyone who wanted them. Or the fact that half of the players in the Mets clubhouse had chests so large you could milk them.
Kirk Radomski was a do-boy scrub in the New York Mets clubhouse who washed jock straps and made food runs. Somehow, he progressed to being one of the great sellers of body-building gunk in baseball.
The reason Radomski will be the biggest name to emerge from the shameful steroid era and the Mitchell report is that for more than a year he has been naming names and apparently, according to a variety of baseball officials, has thoroughly cooperated with Mitchell by providing the identities of dozens of current and former players he gave steroids as well as accompanying, tangible proof.
Radomski ran a steroid ring, and the tentacles of that ring might have reached every corner of the sport.
It is Radomski who provided new life to Mitchell's investigation and it is Radomski's claims -- likely backed by canceled checks, ledger entries and other proof -- that might end up being the biggest rat in sports history.
How do we know this? We're already seeing the fallout from Radomski and Mitchell's report is still hours from being public. Former Met David Segui admitted to the Baltimore Sun he purchased steroids from Radomski. Segui's story is one that likely occurred repeatedly not only on the Mets, but across baseball.
Their relationship started casually but progressed to one where Radomski bought asthma drug Clenbuterol and gave it to Segui.
(Don't you get the feeling some of these athletes would shoot up, smoke up, snort up, and dope up anything to get an edge?)
Radomski has long been cooperating with the government and admits to providing steroids, HGH, Clenbuterol, amphetamines and other drugs to dozens of players. I think that number is probably much higher. I believe it's possible Radomski is the pimp daddy of performance enhancers.
The Mitchell report might name up to 80 players. How many of them were ratted out by Radomski? And are there a half-dozen other Radomski types out there still handing out steroids across baseball clubhouses and they just haven't been caught yet?
Finally, it seems the people who used these drugs might pay a price and that price likely won't be an insignificant one.
"I always thought it was (cheating the game)," outfielder Bobby Kielty told XM Radio, regarding use of steroids. "I always felt like people should be punished for it, and I'm glad it's finally happening."
Kielty and others can thank one of several key people in particular: Radomski.
