The Cardinals win their second game of the season, and what is the lede over at MLB.com?

Adam Wainwright was on his way to what would have been a most unfair no-decision. And then justice prevailed, in the form of Albert Pujols and Matt Holliday.

As Charlie Brown would say, "AAUGH!"

It would’ve been nice to have gotten at least a week in before having to deal with the media’s ridiculous and antiquated obsesssion with pitcher wins and losses. (To be fair, the Post-Dispatch didn’t ascribe the win to Waino until its fifth graf and the Globe-Democrat its 12th.)

Here’s the deal: Unless you wear a handlebar moustache (and spell it moustache) and work at the Model-T plant, you should realize by now that pitcher wins and losses are by their nature unfair. That’s because, while they meant something 100 years ago when pitchers almost always threw complete games, they measure something that is only nominally controlled by the pitcher (his team’s offense and defense being the majority contributors). We wager that MLB’s audience here in 2010 is smart enough to know this.

From an inane comment to a sane one: The MLB dispatch quotes Wainwright, "I was just upset that I walked Stubbs. It’s one thing to give up a hit to a guy, and another thing to bring the tying run up because of a walk." Ah, a pitcher who understands the fickleness of balls in play? Perhaps. He at least gets the idea that walks are something he has a large amount of control over. Unlike wins.

[Author's note: We've been unwavering in our criticism of Mark McGwire lately, prompting our esteemed blogging colleague Erik Manning to ask "What needs to happen for you to be satisfied with all this?" In short, for McGwire to turn back the hands of the clock and redo his apology. Here's what it would say.]

When the Cardinals hired me as hitting coach back in October, I did not attend the press conference, nor did I, as team officials promised, address the media and fans soon after. I did not do so because I was afraid to, as a result of bad decisions I have made, the consequences of which I have been running from for a long time. Now I realize that I cannot run from them any longer, because I cannot return to baseball without telling fans the truth about how I played the game.

Very simply, I cheated. Throughout my career, on a regular basis, I used many kinds of drugs, illegal by the laws of this country and expressly forbidden by the commissioner, in order to improve my performance on the field and gain an edge over other players. I tell you now that the player that thousands of fans paid to see hit home runs, bought replica jerseys of and encouraged their kids to emulate cheered for a phony.

For too long, fans and media have waged a debate over the legitimacy of my (and others’) records, based on the uncertainty over the use of and the effectiveness of performance-enhancing drugs. Today, I wish to clarify and end that debate. I do not hold fans with such contempt that I feel I can trick them into believing that PEDs did not help. They obviously did, or I wouldn’t have tried them, nor would I have hit 70 home runs in the decline phase of an honest ballplayer’s career. At that time, professional athletes of many sports, including baseball and including me, were well aware of how, for example, Olympic athletes were gaining tremendous advantages, and I wanted to, also. Among other benefits, I was able to work out in a way that allowed me to recover quickly and I improved my bat speed tremendously, so much that in 1998, when I was 34 years old, my bat speed was clocked at 99 mph, the fastest swing ever measured.

As the FBI already found out and has been reported in places like the New York Daily News, my regimen consisted of one-half cc of testosterone cypionate every three days; one cc of testosterone enanthate per week; the veterinary steroids Equipoise and Winstrol V, one quarter cc every three days, injected into the buttocks, one in one cheek, one in the other. That was two to four times as strong as those a patient would receive at a clinic. It aided in my recovery from injuries, but it went above that range, giving me performance enhancement to help me reach levels I never would have.

I knew they were illegal by the laws of our country, because I had to conduct my regimen in private, with people I trusted not to rat me out. I did not have a doctor oversee what I was doing, because no ethical doctor would have prescribed anabolic steroids for a healthy person, even one with the injuries I had (which were likely caused by the drugs I took). I knew they were against the rules that Commissioner Vincent set forth in his memo in 1991, because I did them without most of my teammates knowing (when you travel and live with 25 guys for up to eight months of the year and they don’t know something about you, it’s because you’re trying your best to hide it). Moreover, in my heart of hearts, I knew they were against the spirit of honest competition, no matter how many other players were doing them or that the players’ union never agreed to the commissioner’s ban, because some players were not taking them, and it wasn’t because they didn’t know how or where to get them.

To all the players who played the game the right way — that is, who didn’t take performance-enhancing drugs — I am sorry. I am sorry because all of us who used those drugs and — make no mistake — established the steroids era created an environment in which many of those honest players either had to join us to stay in the majors or find themselves out of a job. I was blind to their plight, because I was a star from my rookie season, but I am without excuse. I am sorry to all of those honest players in the game today, who must live with the suspicion of being users.

To the Maris family, I am sorry. I am sorry because I stole the single-season home run record from Roger Maris. Stealing is taking something that doesn’t belong to you, which, by cheating, is exactly what I did. I realize that I have rendered the record book less meaningful. They have every right to hold Roger’s record as the authentic one, whether the record book says it or not.

To Jose Canseco, my brother and others, I am sorry. I am sorry for for allowing them to be criticized and their reputations tarnished, while I kept silent. I apologize to Tony La Russa, whom I put in the difficult position of knowing about my use but having his career depend on my success. He has spent many years defending my reputation, preferring to protect both of us to telling the truth, and I was the cause.

To the Hooten family and others to whom I pledged to do all I could to help, I am sorry. I am sorry for not following through with my pledge to help kids understand the physical dangers of taking steroids, or, perhaps as importantly, of the disgracefulness of cheating.

To those working for justice in this country, I am sorry. I am sorry for being too cowardly to testify and cooperate on various occasions. As another consequence of my actions, I will now face the music of civil justice. To that end, I have contacted the FBI to offer whatever help I can in order to aid their efforts to curb illegal steroid use and trafficking. I will not seek immunity as I did prior to the congressional hearings and am prepared to take whatever legal punishment I am liable for.

To young players and young fans, I am sorry. I am sorry because I have furthered the idea that using drugs and cheating does pay. I made more than $75 million in this game. I realize that, from a material perspective, I have given you 75 million reasons *to* do whatever you can to succeed, even if it’s illegal and unethical. Beyond back acne and shrunken testicles, I have endured little else physically, though I was probably luckier than most, and you can check with organizations like the Hooten Foundation to learn more about the physical ramifications of illegal drugs. But if your life is more than mere material wealth, all I can say is to consider what you become when you cheat.

To all of the fans who supported me by buying tickets to the game, watching me on TV, buying merchandise with my name on it, I am sorry. I am sorry because I allowed others to market me as an authentic hero, when in fact I was a fraud. I apologize to the fans who did not see me play but, because of my legacy, now watch a game that is that much poorer for my involvement in corrupting it and casting an air of illegitimacy and suspicion over the game and its records.

I realize that many fans and media will reply that all is forgiven, and I appreciate that. But this isn’t principally about me seeking, needing and receiving forgiveness: It’s about me taking responsibility for my actions and being humble enough to swallow my pride, which, truth be told, is why I took steroids and evaded the truth in the first place. If I am truly sincere, I realize that I cannot really be sorry about my wrongdoing and still expect to do everything I want as if I hadn’t. So I must finally face the consequences, one of which is not being able to work in baseball — coaching in the very thing that I built my sham career on, hitting. As much as I want to return to the game I love, I will finally put the game ahead of my own selfish interest. If major-league baseball and the Cardinals, including Tony — who only a year ago said that to have a zero tolerance policy, we need punitive measures — do not recognize the incompatible witness of their public stance against drugs and their ongoing promotion and elevation of its known offenders, I do. I therefore respectfully resign my post as Cardinals hitting coach. I do so in the hope that this small act will demonstrate my sincerity in wanting to rid the game of unethical and illegal performance-enhancing drugs. If I can persuade at least one person to turn away from the temptation of drugs, I will have gained as much satisfaction as I would have helping Cardinal hitters.

I realize that, because of my actions and my actions alone, I have tarnished the game and hurt many people, some profoundly. During my playing career, I enjoyed the reputation and legacy of a hero. But I am not nor was I a hero. A hero plays by the rules of the game, no matter how he performs. A hero looks for an honest way to improve himself, not a shortcut to greatness. A hero tells the truth, even when it costs him something. I have not done those things. I hereby bid the game goodbye, hoping that at last, I may have done something to undo a fraction of what I have done.

The St. Louis Cardinals’ presumptive hitting coach Mark McGwire issued a statement yesterday that you might have heard about, and Cardinals’ chairman Bill DeWitt, general manager John Mozeliak and manager Tony La Russa also chimed in with addenda. Here are some of our off-the-cuff responses.

Mark McGwire

Now that I have become the hitting coach for the St. Louis Cardinals, I have the chance

Now you have "the chance"? Right, no one would’ve listened to you before you became a major-league hitting coach. Perhaps the expression you’re searching for is "necessity" or "condition of my employment."

to do something that I wish I was able to do five years ago.

What exactly stopped you then? Or during the ensuing five years?

I never knew when, but I always knew this day would come. It’s time for me to talk about the past and to confirm what people have suspected. I used steroids during my playing career and I apologize.

What are you apologizing for, exactly?

I remember trying steroids very briefly in the 1989/1990 off season and then after I was injured in 1993, I used steroids again. I used them on occasion throughout the nineties, including during the 1998 season. I wish I had never touched steroids. It was foolish and it was a mistake. I truly apologize.

Why was it foolish and a mistake? You made at least $75 million in your career. The kids (and maybe even a few adults) are going to have a tough time seeing how it was so foolish.

Looking back, I wish I had never played during the steroid era.

You sound like a real victim of circumstances. But wait a second: Weren’t you one of the very players who defined the steroid era? Does that mean that you wish you never even existed? We’re so confused.

During the mid-90s, I went on the DL seven times and missed 228 games over five years. I experienced a lot of injuries, including a rib cage strain, a torn left heel muscle, a stress fracture of the left heel, and a torn right heel muscle. It was definitely a miserable bunch of years and I told myself that steroids could help me recover faster. I thought they would help me heal and prevent injuries too.

You’re really tugging at our heartstrings with that injury list (which, incidentally, is more detailed than your explanation of your steroid use). You’re a regular Mickey Mantle. By the way, is it possible that you have it the other way around? How do you know that using PEDs didn’t lead to some of the injuries?

I’m sure people will wonder if I could have hit all those home runs had I never taken steroids.

We know you’ve lived in seclusion for the last few years, but don’t play dumb. People have been wondering that for the last decade and longer. And, deep down, in your heart of hearts, don’t you wonder, too?

I had good years when I didn’t take any and I had bad years when I didn’t take any. I had good years when I took steroids and I had bad years when I took steroids. But no matter what, I shouldn’t have done it and for that I’m truly sorry.

If you say "no matter what," why include the discourse about the effects? If you want us to believe your records are legit, just say so. And again, what are you sorry for? We’re starting to wonder if you’re not simply sorry that you’ve been forced to confess.

Baseball is really different now – it’s been cleaned up.

Baseball sure is different now — a lot of us ballplayers have been caught! And a few people actually care that we used PEDs. But really, are we supposed to trust you, or anyone else in the game right now?

The Commissioner and the Players Association implemented testing and they cracked down, and I’m glad they did.

Why are you glad? You were none too glad when the Feds tried to crack down on you; you stonewalled and avoided the consequences.

I’m grateful to the Cardinals for bringing me back to baseball. I want to say thank you to Cardinals owner Mr. DeWitt, to my GM, John Mozeliak, and to my manager, Tony La Russa. I can’t wait to put the uniform on again and to be back on the field in front of the great fans in Saint Louis.

You mean you can’t wait to put the uniform on again and pretend this never happened? And remember, fans: You’re great, so McGwire knows you’re not going to hold this against him. Because love means never holding someone accountable or letting them face consequences, right?

I’ve always appreciated their support and I intend to earn it again, this time as hitting coach. I’m going to pour myself into this job and do everything I can to help the Cardinals hitters become the best players for years to come.

This is going to be a big challenge for me, since I wasn’t able to make it in the game myself without cheating.

After all this time, I want to come clean.

Spare us the crap about how volitional and courageous this is. After all this time, you’ve been forced to come clean or risk becoming a distraction that the team can’t bear. At least give us the respect of being honest when you decide to come clean.

I was not in a position to do that five years ago in my Congressional testimony,

Let’s t ry that again, Mark: If you weren’t in a position to do it, it was because you were too cowardly to face the consequences of telling the truth. It’s okay, but just be honest with us.

but now I feel an obligation to discuss this and to answer questions about it. I’ll do that, and then I just want to help my team.

You sound like you’re threatening us with a time limit on how long you’ll answer questions. If you’re really sorry, as you repeatedly say you are, you’ll accept the consequences of your actions, one of which is answering questions as long as people have them. Like they say, if you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.

Bill DeWitt, Jr.

On behalf of the entire Cardinals organization, I believe Mark McGwire today did the right thing by telling the truth and openly acknowledging his past mistakes. No one condones what Mark did more than 10 years ago, but we hired him as our hitting coach because we know there are many contributions that Mark can and will make to our team and to this game.

Thanks for emphasizing how long ago that was! We couldn’t possibly make a hiring decision based on what a man did so long ago. And what exactly does it look like to "not condone" someone these days, if you can do something "not condoned" but still get a job in the specific field where you did the thing that wasn’t condoned? Does "not condone" even mean anything anymore? At least show us some dignity that we deserve as humans with brains.

Because of the efforts of Commissioner Bud Selig, who implemented the toughest drug testing program in professional sports,

Please don’t make this worse by invoking Selig, whose entire tenure as commissioner has been spent overseeing the PED era.

the Major League Baseball culture as it relates to use of performance-enhancing substances has vastly improved over the last decade.

What does that have to do with McGwire and your decision to hire him? Stop treating us like idiots.

I’m glad Mark has gone public and the Cardinals welcome him back as our hitting coach.

You do realize that fans have no reason to believe that you are serious about the use of PEDs in baseball, right?

John Mozeliak

Mark is going to make an outstanding hitting coach. He’s a smart student of the game and he has a lot of valuable lessons he can teach our ballplayers. I’m glad Mark has gotten this off his chest and he can proudly begin the next chapter of his life. I can’t wait to see him back in uniform.

Ah, yes, it’s all about McGwire, isn’t it? Mozeliak’s statement shows he has no clue about how some fans feel about the sport, the team and individuals’ hypocrisy and blindness. Would it kill him to say something like, "I understand why people are upset, since we perpetrated a fraud"? Is it that hard?

Tony La Russa

No one on the teams I managed worked harder or better than Mark.

Like a cheap lawyer, La Russa is at it again dropping red herrings. Is this relevant, your honor?

And now, his willingness to admit mistakes, express his regret, and explain the circumstances that led him to use steroids add to my respect for him.

He’s a hero, I tell ya! And, ah, yes, "the circumstances that led him to use steroids." See, the circumstances made him do it. Sorry, McGwire is not a victim. Save the victim language for your ARF animals.

I’ve defended Mark because I observed him develop his unique power hitting skill through a rigorous physical and fundamental work out program.

Back in 2005, La Russa was “absolutely certain that Mark earned his size and strength from hard work and a disciplined lifestyle." Now he’s telling the same story because — look closely — he never said that McGwire earned his size and strength exclusively from hard work. See what you can do with a law degree?

He has a lot to offer our team as our hitting coach. We look forward to his being part of the 2010 Cardinals."

Translation: Hey, Brian, could you just tack on some of our boilerplate corporate bull#$%@ to conclude? Thanks, Tony

Chris Duncan was freed yesterday. Cardinal fans should take the opportunity to do the same for their minds. With the Cardinals trading the clubhouse-popular but fan-loathed Duncan to the Boston Red Sox for the questionable Julio Lugo, the putative best fans in baseball — or at least a not-insignificant subset of them — have lost their whipping boy. Duncan deserved to be treated better.

After spending nearly his entire minor-league career as a first baseman (he played only 47 games in the outfield), Duncan learned the challenges of left field on the job in the majors. He was constantly heckled for his defense — even in the World Series — but played better than he looked; although he never looked graceful, he got the job done through effort and hustle. True, his career -8.7 UZR/150 made him a perenially below-average fielder, but he was far from worst in the majors (see Hideki Matsui, Adam Dunn and Scott Hairston). Unfortunately, fans accustomed to the naturally gifted Rick Ankiel’s gaudy displays of arm strength never appreciated Duncan’s attempts to limit his liabilities and mistook want of talent for lack of effort. Moreover, fans’ obsession with defense distorts its importance relative to offense.

Duncan’s offensive contributions were constantly being obscured by fans’ and writers’ noisome allegiance to antiquated stats. Whereas most thinking people are now aware (and have been for several years) that on-base percentage is the primary indicator of a player’s offensive value, St. Louisans regularly referred to Duncan’s less-than-impressive batting average rather than his quite-good OBP. To be sure, they weren’t helped by the enlightened traditional media, who pride themselves on telling us what to think. To wit: In the Post-Dispatch release detailing the trade, Duncan’s obituary contains nary a reference to his OBP, yet notes his BA three times. For the record, Duncan had a .348 OBP with the Cardinals, fourth-best on the club during that period. Which brings us to a final point: Duncan’s proclivity to strike out. Strikeouts undoubtedly make for ugly baseball, but they’re really secondary to whether a player creates runs. Case in point: For his career, Duncan has struck out 316 times; during that same time, Yadier Molina has struck out only 142 times. Yet Duncan created runs at a much higher rate: 5.70 per 27 outs to 3.69 RC/27.

The trade is not only a new opportunity for Duncan, but it is a chance for Cardinal fans to start afresh, too. With so many newcomers to the Cardinals commending the fans for their warm welcomes, it’s a shame that one of the team’s own never received the support that Cardinal fans are capable of. As Derrick Goold points out, Duncan had a severe home-road split disparity — for his career, his Gross-Production Average (GPA) at home was .252; on the road, .290. Duncan’s Cardinal tenure might’ve turned out differently had he not been booed so lustily. And to think, it was due to ignorance.

The 80th edition of the Midsummer Classic gave fans an unprecedented level of input into the game. Whereas voting was once reserved only for those fans who attended ballgames in person, MLB has now enfranchised millions of people all over the world via internet voting. And fans now decide bench players with the Sprint Final Vote and help determine the game’s most valuable player. Yet baseball needs to go further in its efforts to involve fans, who still lack full input into the game. Herein are some suggestions for improvement.

Increase the maximum number of online votes. If MLB is going to break voting records each year, as it did this year with 17.8 million online ballots, it’s not going to happen by limiting each fan to 25 votes. After smartly eschewing the democratic principle of one vote per person and enfranchising millions of foreigners, baseball just stopped at 25. Why stop at such an arbitrarily (and, quite honestly, low) number? Increment the maximum votes by one each year, with no cap.

Encourage campaigning. The Bran-Torino thing was an example of how exciting an organized campaign can be. Why not bring the great American pastime of campaign advertisements to the American pastime? Like our political elections, the All-Star Game simply didn’t get enough mediacoverage, including on the MLB.com site. If more deserving players miss out because they didn’t "get out the vote," that’s a small price to pay to experience the joy of campaign ads, especially in a non-election year. Besides, just think of the helpful attack ads we could see: Soundless images of Derek Jeter not quite getting to that ball up the middle with a menacing voice-over of "Do you really want Derek Jeter representing you? It’s time for change. Paid for Marco Scutaro."

Allow fans to not only determine who plays but how they play. Technology now allows us to fulfill Bill Veeck’s idea of allowing fans to participate in game decisions; MLB should leverage its online balloting to let fans vote on whether players should steal, bunt and play in certain spots in the field. Given enough computing power, MLB could even let fans decide which pitches a pitcher should throw and whether or not batters should swing or take. True, it would lengthen the game, but that simply means more advertising opportunities.

Expand rosters again. MLB moved in the right direction this year by expanding from 30- to 33 man-rosters, but they need to allow more in order to prevent some above-average players from being excluded. We suggest expanding each year by 10, capping the NL roster at 200 and the AL roster at 175. With each major-league team having 25 players, that means that the top 50% of players would be honored as all-stars.per side, or roughly 12 all-stars per NL team. That virtually ensures that all the above-average players are all-stars, which, after all, is the goal, right? Yes, Ryan Franklin and Zach Duke made the team this year, but if they hadn’t, Bud Selig would have had a travesty as big as the 2002 All-Star Game tie on his hands. Expanding to 200 would not have left this to chance.

Allow programmers to create automated voting scripts. Let’s face it: Regular balloting, manager picks and the venerable tradition of the 25th 30th 33rd-man Final Vote are insufficient to ensure that the voices of all constituencies are heard. How about a Hacker Vote? Once rosters expand to 200, MLB could invite programmers the world over to create automated scripts to manipulate vote totals for each team’s "201st man," or Garciaparra Man. And no holds are barred: Think of how fun the All-Star Game Selection Show Presented By Pepsi would be when viewers watch a player’s vote total not only going up, but going down, too.

Disenfranchise ballpark voters. Though at first the idea of taking the vote away from some fans would seem counterintuitive to the goal of greater fan input, fans who vote at actual ballparks tend to offset the internet and foreign vote, where MLB wants to expand. These provincial rubes who actually attend games when they could simply sit on their sofas and watch the games clearly don’t have the smarts to be electing all-star representatives, anyway. This constituency probably even stays the entire game, demonstrating that they possess an attention span that is too long for the kind of snap-judgment voting that can be assisted through web-site ads and email reminders. Abolish the ballpark vote, an idea that has obviously run its course. With the help of law-abiding voter-registration groups like ACORN, baseball should instead focus on bringing in new fans, especially underrepresented peoples who have never even seen a baseball game.