The Mitchell Report

Today has been a day of great heat, but little light in the world of Major League Baseball. Former Senator George Mitchell of Maine, director of the Boston Red Sox, member of the board of the Walt Disney Company (the parent of ESPN), the arbiter of the peace in Northern Ireland, is also a former federal prosecutor, former Federal judge, and most importantly, former Majority Leader of the United States Senate. He was tapped almost two years ago by Allan H. (Bud) Selig to investigate the presence of performance enhancing drugs in baseball.
We already knew that steroids had changed the landscape of baseball permanently. We knew that Mitchell had at least the appearance of at least two conflicts of interest. Would he name Red Sox players? He serves the team as a director. Would he damage the value of ESPN's relationship with MLB? He is on the Disney board. Could he get anything done? He did not have subpoena power. And all of the loudmouths are being heard now. What good did it do? What did we get out of this? He went too far, or not far enough. He encouraged Selig to do everything possible to avoid punishment for past behavior, opting instead to push for using the knowledge of past mistakes to shape a cleaner future. Ken Rosenthal is upset over the Mitchell Report, which pretty well guarantees it was a good thing to undertake.
All of the wind and fury misses the point. This project wasn't about getting Roger Clemens' name out of the rumors and into the record. It wasn't about further burying Barry Bonds, or covering his enhanced anatomy by putting 75 others in the boat with him. It wasn't to solve all of baseball's problems. No, not all of them. Just the biggest one: Congress.
Bud and MLB President Bob Dupuy have been summoned to Capitol Hill again; they will appear next week. One congressman has already called for Bud's oily head. (Now that's a real demonstration of what Mick Foley used to call "testicular fortitude": a member of the United States government telling anyone else that they should resign their position due to incompetent performance.) But the Kommisar-for-Life and his right-hand guy are going to swear to tell the truth, look warmly at the members of the committee, and tell them, over and over and over, "We are serious about steroids and all the rest now! See? We hired your guy to investigate it all!"
Members of Congress want TV face time. They want to look like they are protecting the youth and children of America. They like to lecture the powerful who have been dragged in and turned into whimpering puppies by congressional subpoenas. But they do not insult, attack or belittle their own. Especially not one of their own as prominent as George Mitchell. Bud's people were either prescient enough, or just plain lucky enough, to benefit from the change in congressional majorities in the last election. If anyone was going to attack Mitchell's work, it surely won't be the members of his own party who now run the show. You should expect to see the small, mousy Selig (so close to Zelig) hide in the long, broad, dignified shadow of the former Democratic leader of the Senate.
This is why Mitchell was chosen. This is sportswriters' screaming about imagined conflicts of interest doesn't matter. Because those who can compel testimony, take away the anti-trust exemption, regulate, regulate, regulate, and force the owners to open their books will take George Mitchell's word for it that the truth has now been told, and the corner of enforcement has been turned. No one in congress will attack George Mitchell's integrity. No one in congress will accuse George Mitchell of ineptitude. No one in congress will throw dirt on one of their own. That's why Bud hired him. That's why Bud was on TV this afternoon telling one of his questioners that it really didn't matter how expensive this investigation has been. Because he knows that when he sits before the members of congress next week, he's bringing protection with him. Kind of like Michael Corleone walking into the committee room to hear Frank Pantangeli's testimony in Godfather II, with Pantangeli's older brother, fresh off the plane from Italy, on Corleone's arm. Frankie Five Angels proceeded to forget that he'd ever even heard of Michael Corleone.
When Bud shows up with the Honorable George Mitchell on his arm, all of those congressmen/women who have expectations of having big law firm/lobbying jobs when their terms are ended will promptly forget that they ever heard of Winstrol or HGH or McNamee or Radomski. And then, Bud will have gotten his money's worth.