Reunion on Different Playing Field

Not seven years ago, Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa stood in the same ballpark, celebrating the same moment, hugging over the same historic home run.

Not 13 years ago, McGwire and Jose Canseco were finishing a half-career spent together, a period in which they became the home-run-slugging Bash Brothers, joined at the forearm, bringing the Oakland Athletics to three World Series.

On Thursday afternoon, they were well removed from the afternoon in St. Louis when McGwire broke Roger Maris’ single-season record, further from the years McGwire and Canseco appeared to have a common cause: home runs and a championship.

McGwire, Sosa and Canseco now sat in a row, behind a witness table, gathered again, before a congressional panel investigating the prevalence of steroids in baseball. Canseco admitted to steroid use at the conclusion of a career that ended a handful of home runs short of 500, and on his way to retirement accused McGwire and Sosa of the same.

In midafternoon, wearing crisp suits and shined shoes, after two families told of their sons dying because of the steroids big-leaguers made attractive, before Commissioner Bud Selig defended Major League Baseball’s past and current drug policies against a rancorous panel, three of the game’s great power hitters and two other players -- Curt Schilling and Rafael Palmeiro -- were asked to defend themselves for two grueling hours. All had been subpoenaed.

At one point, Rep. Tom Lantos (D-San Mateo) leaned into his microphone, toward the players, and said, “I increasingly feel a feeling of the theater of the absurd unfolding here.”

The players chose different courses.

Canseco, after telling the House Committee on Government Reform that because of probation from a prior arrest he would limit his answers, was largely forthcoming, admitting again to steroid use and calling baseball’s prevention policy “a complete joke.”

McGwire promised brevity in his opening statement and was true to that. He refused to address questions regarding the use of performance-enhancing drugs by himself or other players, answering many times, “I’m not here to talk about the past” or by reminding the committee, “I’m retired.” Having denied in the past that he had used steroids, most recently following the publication of Canseco’s tell-all book, “Juiced,” McGwire refused to repeat the denial under oath.

Sosa, who sat between Canseco and McGwire and was accompanied by an interpreter and an attorney, most often simply agreed with players who had answered before him. In his opening statement, read by his attorney, Sosa said he had never used steroids.

Palmeiro, also accused by Canseco of steroid use, and Schilling also sat on the panel. Frank Thomas, recovering from ankle surgery, read a statement via videoconference.

The presence of the former all-stars and, perhaps, future Hall of Famers in a small, paneled hearing room stuffed with reporters and television cameras, several of them carrying live coverage, created an unusual spectacle in a city that has seen political spectacle, some in that very hearing room. Removed from their game, some pulled from the backyards of retirement, the players struggled with attention uncommon away from their ballparks.

McGwire nearly wept during his opening statement, choking up while expressing sorrow for the parents of children taken by steroids. “I hope,” he said, pausing to gather himself, “that these hearings can prevent other families from suffering.”

More composed later in the statement, McGwire said he would not “dignify Mr. Canseco’s book” or “answer questions about who took steroids.”

“My lawyers have advised me that I cannot answer these questions without jeopardizing my friends, my family and myself,” he said. “I intend to follow their advice.”

It was the strategy that led to his frequent responses, many identical to the last, that he would not revisit the past. By the end of the session, the repetitiveness of the answers drew laughter from the gallery and panel.

Asked by Rep. Elijah E. Cummings (D-Md.) if he had used steroids, McGwire shook his head slightly. Cummings asked again, and McGwire responded similarly.

“Are you taking the 5th?” Cummings demanded.

“I’m not here to talk about the past,” he said.

Generally, the players other than Canseco agreed that baseball’s new drug policy, upgraded in the off-season, was adequate.

They agreed that the results -- 1.7% of nearly 1,200 players tested positive last season -- reflected steroids’ presence in baseball, despite, in Schilling’s case, previous quotes that steroid use was more widespread. Canseco bounded back and forth, at times defending passages read back to him from his book, at others wavering.

And, they agreed that they didn’t care much for Canseco, whose testimony before the committee included more than a handful of references to his best-selling book. Schilling called him “a liar” and twice referred to him as “the so-called author” of the book. In his opening statement, Palmeiro called Canseco “an unashamed advocate for increased steroid use.”

When McGwire asked the committee to “consider the source” of the allegations made by Canseco, Canseco grimaced and shook his head. While on a late-night television show recently, Canseco had playfully stuck a syringe into a McGwire doll, to the delight of the show’s host and his audience.

To that end, the committee took pains to keep Canseco away from the other players, some of them former teammates, when possible. It was careful not to seat Canseco and McGwire beside each other. When the players waited for their turn at the witness table, three rooms were provided in the antechamber. According to witnesses, four of the players were in one room, Canseco in another.

Canseco was not without his supporters. He occasionally leaned back after questions to consult his lawyer. And Rep. C.A. Dutch Ruppersberger (D-Md.), near the end of the session, said, “I guarantee you Jose Canseco’s not going to win any popularity contests with the players, but he’s the best thing to happen to you all.”

Ruppersberger, like many of the committee members, spoke to the players about their responsibility to the game, the fans and the children who emulate them. Except for a few occasions, the committee was kind to the players, allowing them to respond to soft questions with soft answers and deflect hard questions with soft answers, and frequently the members prefaced their questions with compliments.

The difficult inquiries were saved for Selig, his lieutenants and baseball’s advisor, the gavel falling more than 11 hours after the first witnesses testified.

Near the end of their time at the witness table, it was suggested to the five players that if baseball were to create a tougher testing program, they might never have to return.

McGwire, asked his opinion of that, said, “I’m retired. But, whatever anybody can do to improve it, so there’s no more meetings like this, I’m all for it.”