Where's the hype?

Let’s play a little game of make believe, shall we?

Like, let’s make believe there is no such thing as androstenedione. Or better yet, let’s pretend that the scientists who came up with “The Cream” and “The Clear” never told anyone that their little invention had sports performance-enhancing traits. How about if they figured out ways to make the ointments cure cancers or diseases instead of making over-muscled men hit baseballs farther or run faster?

While we’re at it, let’s pretend Bud Selig, the Major League owners and the players’ association all worked together to put effective, and Olympic-quality drug testing in place during the mid 1990s. Or how about if the athletes who used (and use) human growth hormone thought, “You know, I could use this and it would make me stronger and recover faster so I can work out twice as hard and hit those baseballs really far. That would probably mean a few extra million dollars in my next contract, but you know what? There’s some sick little kid who might need this more than me.”

Let’s pretend that because of everything listed above, Mark McGwire didn’t hit 70 home runs in 1998 or 65 in 1999. Or that Sammy Sosa didn’t hit 66, 63 or 64 homers in ’98, ’99 or 2001, respectively. Suppose Barry Bonds didn’t hit 73 homers in 2001, and continued to average his 33 homers per season like he did prior to the 2001 campaign. At that rate – if he were still playing – he might be threatening the 700-home run plateau. Maybe then there would be some excitement about Bonds’ feats instead of the collective yawn his homers receive as he approached Hank Aaron’s all-time mark.

Pretend all of things happened, or didn’t happen.

Now pretend you’re a Phillies fan watching Ryan Howard. How excited would you be right now?

Though the Phillies’ smiling slugger is on pace to become just the third player in Major League history to reach the mythical 60-home run plateau and not sit in front of a Congressional sub-committee or grand jury so that a bunch lawyers could ask what he took to hit the ball so far, there could be so much more excitement. Philadelphia could be the focus of the sporting world right now as Howard zeroed in on Babe Ruth and Roger Maris. He would be a national icon instead of just the guy who beat Mike Schmidt’s record for most homers in a season by a Phillie.

Remember how everyone checked the box scores every morning or stayed up late to catch the sports highlights to see if McGwire or Sosa smacked another one during the ’98 season? Remember how they said that chase rekindled the nation’s interest in baseball and turned the casual fans into degenerate seamhead stat freaks? That could all be happening right here, right now.

Thanks to his player-of-the-month August where he slugged 14 homers, and this past week where he hit six bombs in seven days, including three in consecutive plate appearances against the Braves last Sunday, Howard needs eight more home runs in the final 24 games to tie Maris’. In fact, Howard’s output has been so prolific that his slugging and the Phillies’ wild-card chances have become the talk of the town instead of the Eagles’ season opener this Sunday in Texas somewhere. Questions like, “Do you think he can hit 60?” have been the focus of conversation instead of “Do you think the Eagles can get back to the playoffs?”

Phillies games are now divided into three, quick need-to-know categories:

Did he hit one?

Did they win?

How far back are they?

But it’s Howard and the “what if” game that is the most intriguing. Because we have to wonder what happened in those darkened corners of baseball before there was serious drug policy, it kind of throws a wet-blanket over Howard’s season. For instance, since Howard is not chasing the record, as he very well could be, his season will be memorable only in our little provincial world. Sure, he could win the MVP Award this season, but we’re still missing out on the daily media frenzy.

Worse, because it is assumed that Bonds, Sosa and McGwire were cheaters, people will always wonder about Howard, too. Indirectly – even with power exploits going back to when he was 12-years old and hit a home run that went so far that it crashed into a Red Lobster – Howard is a victim of the steroid era.

Columnists and talk-show types, who never show up to the ballpark to chat with Howard even though he is always waiting in front of his locker on the front right side of the clubhouse, can flex with no-it-all poses about how Howard is under suspicion. Very easily, those people can show up at the park and walk right up to the easy-going and accessible slugger and ask him, point blank, if he’s juiced.

The answer, as reported by Paul Hagen in the Daily News:

“People are entitled to their opinions,” he said, rolling his eyes. “But it does bother me. It casts a shadow on the game.

“I know I'm not using steroids. This barrel right here [pointing to his stomach] is proof enough. People are going to say what they want to say. I thought about it once and then it was like, ‘Well, whatever.’ I'm not doing it. If they want to test me, they can test me.

“I just think it sucks. The thing about it is, if you're going to make those kinds of comments, have proof. Otherwise, you can ruin people's reputations.”

Howard is already making his own glowing reputation. Aside from the huge numbers – he has a chance to become just the fifth player in history to hit better than .300, smash 50 homers and drive in 150 runs – Howard is accountable. Not just for the media, but for his teammates, too.

Count on this: Howard will never sit in front of a Congressional committee and say: “I’m not here to talk about the past… ”