Saving This Face May Not Be in America’s Best Interests

A burly bodyguard at her back, camera flashes in her face, attempting to pull America to her side, Marion Jones finally met the media at the U.S. Olympic track and field trials Saturday.

“Well,” she said with a giggle. “Long time no chat.”

She has no idea.

On the TV screen to her right, a semifinal heat in the women’s 200 meters had just been won by an alleged drug cheat named Torri Edwards.

Outside the sweltering tent, officials were just breaking the news of a four-year ban of an alleged drug cheat named Regina Jacobs.

The father of Jones’ child, Tim Montgomery, had been eliminated from the meet in time to face a possible lifetime ban after reportedly admitting steroid use.

Jones had just dropped out of the 200 meters because of exhaustion, after failing to qualify in the 100 meters because of slowness, sandwiched around a long jump victory after which she fled to her car.

All this, while being pursued by doping officials who are wondering about her initials on a doping calendar and a check that was paid from her account to a doping lab.

And, oh yeah, American swimmer Gary Hall Jr. publicly accused her of being dirty.

Long time, indeed.

No chat, not good.

Marion Jones’ world has changed dramatically since the start of these trials 10 days ago.

And with it, the image of the woman who should have been America’s face at the Athens Olympics.

Not with cheeks reddened and eyes darting, she won’t.

Not with a cloud of accusations following her like dust followed Pig Pen, she can’t.

“When you win so many races, have so many great performances, you start saying, ‘Gosh, I’m pretty good,’ ” admitted Jones. “Sometimes you get slapped in the face.”

And sometimes this can knock you right out of Olympic prime time, a feel-good story becoming a feel-funny story.

Can NBC really risk making a hero out of anyone who has ever even been mentioned in the same sentence as that other acronym known as BALCO?

“It’s been a disappointing time,” said Jones. “I’m not going to candy-coat it.”

Although, on Saturday, she certainly tried.

Showing up in a black silk tank top and silver necklace, she was a portrait of grace, energy and endorsements.

She called reporters by name after blowing them off for a week. She took extra questions after days of refusing to answer any.

She seemed human when talking about the effects of giving birth to a son barely a year ago.

“I’ve been so successful from the time I was 14 years old in this sport, you get to a point where you think not much can come in the way of that success,” she said. “But childbirth? ... I think I underestimated childbirth.”

She briefly reminded folks of her persona in the 2000 Olympics, where she became a legitimate sports hero with five medals, including three gold. For a while, she was positively Sydney-esque.

“As I understand it, most of the fans and most of the people are in support of me,” Jones said. “I’ve said all along that the process is unfair. What they’re trying to do is unfair. And I think people realize that.”

But this is where the image derailed.

Because, contrary to her perception, the applause for her here has been occasionally tepid.

Because folks are sick of the drugs, sick of these stories, not wanting to hear about this stuff next month.

Yet in her dealing with the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency, Jones is working against that effort.

If she is formally accused without solid evidence, it will be a type of accusation made of athletes worldwide in these days of undetectable steroids.

Yet Jones is the one athlete who says, if kept from going to Athens, she will sue.

At times Saturday, Jones seemed more upset with the star-targeted media leaks than the accusations themselves.

“There are athletes who have tested positive for a few months, they have had the chance to train and compete freely, not under any scrutiny, and that part is unfair,” she said.

It is at times like these when Jones’ charm seems like arrogance, that her laugh seems like a mock.

Don’t think U.S. officials don’t know it too.

The quiet relief with which they watched her fail to qualify in the 100 has been perhaps replaced with a sense of dread after she not only won the long jump, but now could get a chance to also compete in the 100 because two women who qualified ahead of her may either be suspended (Edwards) or withdraw to compete in another race (Gail Devers).

Throw in a relay, and Marion Jones could wind up in three events in Athens, her controversy overshadowing the many other track and field efforts that thus far have been untainted.

Now that’s unfair.

Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com. To read previous columns by Plaschke, go to latimes.com/plaschke.