dclark0699 wrote:I have to say that it is ridiculous to condemn all of these players with absolutely no proof. Just because a guy got big over time, or had only one good year, or has begun to decline does not mean they took steroids...it is the circle of life.
Did you ever think that maybe...just MAYBE these players got this way because they worked for it? Is it possible that some of them workout all the time and try to be good at what they do just like anyone would.
Everyone is a litte to quick to place the steroid label on players simply because they hit 35-40 HR.
Baseball Prospectus did an analysis about this issue a while back. In short, the steroid problem is statistically significant and appears to be league wide. Adjusted for ball-park factors and other "macroscopic" environmental factors there is not a significant rise in the power spikes compared to other eras. Further, players who never had power -- the slap hitters -- probably did not account for these power spikes, but steroid use among them is still possible. However, there is a very significant increase in power strikes among players who previously hit 15-20 home runs and later hit 30 or more. This change makes sense based on other readings.
This change also makes sense when you're talking about guys like klesko, giles, garciaparra, etc. etc.
Here are some excerpts:
This figure reveals something very interesting: Power Spikes have occurred more frequently in the Juiced Era, but the increase in frequency is almost entirely attributable to certain types of hitters. In particular, Power Spikes have become more frequent among hitters with average power--those guys who will hit more than 10 home runs but fewer than 30 in a typical season. Power Spikes have not become more frequent among hitters who have no power at all. It has never been very common for a hitter who has a weak, slap-hitting swing to transform into a power threat, and it is no more common today.
But there is also no increase in Power Spikes among players who were already very good power hitters, capable of hitting at least 30 home runs per year. Sometimes a very good power hitter will turn into an insanely great one, as Bonds and McGwire did. But this is no more common today than it had been previously. The players who have been most responsible for the Juiced Era home-run boom are the middle-of-the-road players: those guys who used to hit 15 or 20 homers a season and are now hitting 25 or 30.
The typical steroid user might not be the prima donna slugger who endorses Budweiser between innings but the “hardworking late bloomer” who is struggling to maintain his spot in the lineup or is trying to leverage a good season into a big free-agent contract. Certainly these players might have more economic incentive to enhance their performance, as compared to their counterparts who have already signed multiyear, guaranteed major league contracts. Among professional athletes, the decision about whether to use steroids is not a result of locker-room peer pressure but rather a relatively rational calculation about the medical, moral, and financial costs and the risk of getting caught as compared to the potential upside.
In that sense, it is just like any other form of cheating. The anonymous minor leaguer profiled in Will Carroll’s book The Juice, who used steroids at a time when he was struggling to maintain his status as a credible major league prospect, expressed this calculation succinctly: “Look, if you told me shooting bull piss was going to get me ten more home runs, fine.”
LINK to article:http://www.baseballprospectus.com/artic ... cleid=4845