It Appears the Boss Has Muscles for Brains Too

And so the head lifeguard of baseball’s country club--to call it a union is an embarrassment to real unions--met with Congress on Tuesday.

And so Congress asked Donald Fehr if his players would agree to be tested for an illegal substance known as steroids, just as the NBA and NFL players are tested.

And so Fehr said no, giving a reason, “that can be summed up in a single word: privacy.”

Privacy?

Idiocy.

Privacy?

When I covered the Dodgers a decade ago, players joked that a certain steroid-filled teammate had such awful back acne, they were afraid to pat him on the shoulder.

Privacy?

When I covered the Dodgers, there were players around the league afraid to take off their towels in the clubhouse for fear that teammates would see their shrunken lower extremities.

Privacy?

Steroid use has been public for years. But everyone, including myself, has been shamefully afraid to discuss it because nobody would confess and everyone would sue.

Last month, allegations by longtime stars Jose Canseco and Ken Caminiti lifted that curtain of fear.

Now, while watching abnormally large men hit abnormal amounts of home runs, it’s difficult to discuss anything else.

Would somebody please inject into Donald Fehr a syringe filled with decency? Force him to swallow a supplement known as common sense?

The players’ refusal to be tested for steroids makes them all guilty, or at least accessories to what is absolutely a crime.

If you don’t believe me, listen to the clean ones.

“You have to get there in the natural way,” said Dodger Mark Grudzielanek, the team’s player representative who has clearly done just that. “There has to be a level playing field.”

Eric Karros, who had recovered from back problems with old-fashioned hard work, was more direct.

“Yes, test, absolutely,” he said. “If for no other reason than, it’s illegal. End of discussion. End of story.”

It’s heartening to hear that Dodger leaders feel that way. But it’s sad to think that, no, it’s not the end of the story.

Steroid testing is one of the issues being bartered in the currently stalled labor talks. These same talks have the country-club set so mad, a couple of them have threatened to skip the All-Star game because it is at Milwaukee, home of Commissioner Bud Selig.

“I don’t want to go to Milwaukee and play in an All-Star game that would benefit [Selig],” Boston pitcher John Burkett told the Boston Globe last week.

My heart breaks. And we so wanted to see this no-heart, no-class dolt with a 16.50 earned-run average in two previous All-Star game appearances infect Miller Stadium like a bad batch of brats.

Burkett’s comments were echoed by--surprise, surprise--Gary Sheffield, who is understandably reluctant to return to the town where he purposely made bad throws from third base.

While this year’s All-Star game has nothing to do with steroids--except the average fan may need to be drugged to endure its selfish pomposity--the players’ reaction fits into the fans’ perception of them.

Everyone already thinks this insulting group is filled with rich, selfish, out-of-touch players.

And then Tuesday, their leader tells Congress that they also refuse to adhere to the law? Maybe this will be the summer that the players finally realize they need a new leader.

Maybe, after enough good ones like Grudzielanek and Karros are soiled by the reputation of all the bad ones, this will be the season the players realize that their union is killing this game.

Let’s see, Donald Fehr gets paid ... how? Oh, yeah. By a membership that evaluates him based on its average salary. Steroids disappear, home runs decline, salaries fall, Fehr is lighter in the wallet.

So while true home-run hitters are forced to deny that they are dirty, Fehr and his bobos stay in business.

Privacy?

If the majority of players continue to behave like they are above the fans and above the law, they will have plenty of privacy.

Summer is looking better and better without them.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com.