It’s one thing for fans or pundits to rip those who betrayed baseball, but now retired players and managers are squeezing the “juicers.”
Slugger Jack Clark describes steroid abusers as “creeps” and “liars.” Carlton Fisk, the venerable catcher, blasts Roger Clemens, Barry Bonds, and Alex Rodriguez as law breakers, while calling Mark McGwire’s claim that steroids didn’t help his hitting “a crock.” Hall of Fame pitcher Fergie Jenkins, power hitter John Kruk, and manager Whitey Herzog all ridicule the “cheats.” Even Adolphus A. Busch IV, whose family once owned the St. Louis Cardinals, says McGwire “stole [baseball’s] most coveted records.”
What’s noteworthy is who isn’t doing the criticizing: the very players whose records have been surpassed or threatened – those from a bygone era whose voices, if heard, would carrry true moral authority: Henry Aaron, Willie Mays, and Stan Musial.
Call it the Silence of the Living Legends.
I know Willie the best, of course, but I think I can speak for all three when I say I know why none of them are speaking out. They played in an era when baseball — in their mind — really was a family. You treated fellow players like you would family members. You supported them when they did well, and you supported them when they made mistakes. There was a brotherhood to the game. Willie himself will never say an unkind word about any player under any circumstance. He’s been criticized for not standing up for the integrity of the game, but as he sees it, he’s standing up for something else — his loyalty to his fellow players and to the game itself.
I don’t begrudge those players who are now pouncing on the juicers — their criticism has merit — but I’m glad some old-timers are upholding a very different, but quite honorable code.

More blogs to come . . .

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