Fernando Tatis Jr. was supposed to help extinguish the dying embers of the steroid scandal. But even if you buy his explanation for a failed drug test, and even if like me you think worrying about the impact on his Hall of Fame candidacy is, well, a little ahead of itself …
Damn. We were supposed to be done with this B.S., weren’t we?
If nothing else, it’s time for everybody to get on the same page, here. As far as we know, Tatis has only chatted with a few teammates. He reportedly met one-on-one with San Diego Padres general manager A.J. Preller Thursday, at an undisclosed location away from Petco Park.
Meanwhile, Hall of Famers David Ortiz and Pedro Martinez have criticized MLB and the Padres for the way they reacted to and handled Tatis’ 80-game suspension for testing positive for an anabolic steroid – clostebol – something the player and his parents claim was the result of a topical solution used to treat ringworm that he says is the result of a haircut.
It’s been quite a two-year run for Tatis: a 14-year, $340-million contract signed at the age of 22, landing a spot on the cover of Playstation’s MLB: The Show … then missing 30 games with a recurring shoulder injury before fracturing his wrist during the off-season, first saying he hurt it during workouts and then admitting the fracture happened in a motorcycle accident. Or two accidents. Or, three …
The intercession by two of the game’s most influential natives of the Dominican Republic was odd in terms of their reasoning, which seemed to focus on the way baseball made the news public and, in Martinez’s case, the notion that the Padres “should have known what this kid is putting in his body … whether it was ringworm or whether it was flu.”
It was because of that, Martinez said on TBS in a candid exchange with Jimmy Rollins and Ernie Johnson, that “this is where I have to give him a pass.”
Making the statement murkier was the reaction on social media of Tatis' brother, Elijah, who upbraided Martinez for throwing more fuel on the fire. Yet Tatis’s father, Fernando Sr., himself a former Major Leaguer, called the suspension “a catastrophe, not just for Jr., but for all of baseball … a total disappointment … for something so insignificant that wasn’t worth it.”
Added Edwin Encarnacion: “The MLB sank him. I’m sure if the same thing that happened to Tatis, Jr., had happened to another player that you know, MLB would have handled it differently. It’s incredible what they did to the face of baseball.”
I’ve known Martinez for a long time. He’s nobody’s fool. I’m much less familiar with Ortiz, but I know he is well aware that for many players from the Dominican Republic, he and Martinez are mentors if not outright deities.
Ortiz has a complicated relationship with baseball's steroid scandal: he was a first-ballot Hall of Famer despite being named in a 2009 New York Times article as one of a group of players who tested positive in 2003 as part of survey testing ahead of the formal institution of drug-testing. Ortiz never tested positive for any banned substance once the program was put in place in 2004 and commissioner Rob Manfred said in 2016 that those 2003 tests were in fact unreliable in terms of individual results. The 2003 tests, Manfred noted, were designed to determine how many, not who.
Ortiz hasn’t run away from questions about steroid use, but he hasn’t waded into discussions either. So this bold rush into the fray necessitates, I think, something more than a wave of the hand. If nothing else, it suggests that he and Martinez are prepared to have the backs of the game's current and future Latino stars, which is all to the good. Because from where I am, it is a useful tool in starting the necessary process of changing the dialogue around Tatis, whose positive test ought to be a reminder that the game cannot let down its guard.
Tatis is no ordinary player, beyond people’s simplistic obsession with having a “Face of the Game.”
I’ve always struggled with the whole ‘Face of the Game’ thing when it comes to baseball, because MLB is a largely regionally-watched and marketed sport that has several faces depending on your point of reference.
I’d argue that Vladimir Guerrero Jr. is the face of the game in Canada. In New York it has to be Aaron Judge, no? Max Scherzer? Shohei Ohtani is a big deal. My guess is he’s the face of the game for many. But he and Mookie Betts and Tatis and now Juan Soto play on the west coast, and maybe that doesn’t play as much as it should in the Eastern time zone. And does anybody remember Mike Trout? He was actually criticized publicly by Manfred because he wasn’t interested in embracing that role.
No, Tatis’ importance stems from the fact that MLB has largely consigned its steroid scandal to the month leading up to Hall of Fame voting. Other than that? It’s hardly ever mentioned anymore.
I mean, let’s be clear: in lopping five years off a player's eligibility for the Hall of Fame ballot, baseball ensured that it sidelined the candidacies of Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens as soon as possible. Yes, Alex Rodriguez is still around on some kind of rehabilitation tour that seems to have oddly won the blessing of the commissioner’s office, but he doesn’t hold the game's most sacrosanct record: the career homer mark currently held by Bonds.
And this is why Tatis matters: there is a real chance that he’s around for – what? – another 15 years? The last thing MLB wants is anything even remotely resembling any “yeah, buts,” attached to one of its transcendent players.
Let’s be clear: any player who uses the excuse of a tainted supplement or prescription for a failed drug test is an idiot. I mean, stuff happens but there are multiple avenues available for getting a supplement cleared, either through the team or players association. Medical exemptions are available for emergencies. It’s not that hard, people.
Still, Tatis’ Cooperstown candidacy is not over before it even started, because there’s plenty of time for him to make good.
I like that the Ortiz's and Martinez's have stepped up for him publicly. More to the point, I understand it. I want their voices heard in a sport that has often marginalized Latinos.
The hope, here, is that Tatis is guilty of nothing more than stupidity, immaturity and laziness – that he’s a young dude seemingly never over-matched by a fastball, but sometimes over-matched by life off the field. Like a lot of us. At least, that’s the way I’d be spinning it given what’s at stake. And I’d get on it ASAP.
