The matter of steroids in sports may not strike some readers as the most pressing issue of the day. At first whiff, it seems something of a journalistic sideshow, a made-for-television scandal more in the mode of the Scott Peterson trial than a presidential campaign.
Nevertheless, sports journalism -- particularly when it comes to front-page news, like the BALCO doping investigation -- should be held to the same standards as any other journalism. And that's where last Friday's "20/20" broadcast, given over almost entirely to an interview with BALCO head Victor Conte, fell woefully short.
New ABC correspondent Martin Bashir, best known for his revelations about Michael Jackson, brought the same nose for celebrity scandal to the Conte interview. Much of the piece consisted of detailed (if not necessarily new) charges by Conte that he provided drugs to athletes including track star Kelli White, several members of the Oakland Raiders football team, and Marion Jones. But, intriguingly, Conte hesitated when it comes to perhaps the biggest name of all entangled in the federal steroid investigation: Barry Bonds.
Conte asserted that he gave two substances containing steroids, a clear liquid and a cream, to Greg Anderson, Bonds' trainer, but that "There's never been anything beyond that at any point ever." (Anderson has pled not guilty to charges in the BALCO case and denies giving illegal substances to Bonds.)
The aptly named Bashir, however, wasn't satisfied with that, and pressed Conte to speculate: "Do you think that Greg Anderson was providing the clear and the cream to some of these baseball players?" Conte replied, "He could have been. I have no specific knowledge of this. I didn't say 'Here's clear. Go give this to Gary [Sheffield] or Here's clear, go give this to Barry [Bonds].'"
The intrepid Bashir, refusing to take "no" for an answer, kept going, with questions so leading they would have made Perry Mason proud. Verbal finger wagging away, Bashir asked, "And who is Greg Anderson's number one client?" Conte replied, somewhat sheepishly, "His number one client is Barry Bonds." Bashir pressed, "So is it possible that some of the clear and cream that you gave, without any strings attached, that you gave to Greg Anderson may have found its way to Barry Bonds?" A slightly exasperated Conte replied, "It's possible. I can't say that it's not possible."
The journalistic misdemeanor here isn't in the pressing of Conte; it's in the editing that bit of tape into the final piece, which has the effect of giving the gloss of established fact to rumors and speculation.
Done leading his witness, Bashir closed that portion of the interview with a voiceover containing an outright error: "Bonds has publicly denied taking steroids. But today we learned that in his grand jury testimony he reportedly admitted using a clear substance and cream supplied by BALCO, though he says he didn't think they were steroids."
Well, not exactly. According to the San Francisco Chronicle's report on Bonds' testimony, the Giants outfielder never admitted to using substances provided by BALCO, only to administering a cream and a clear substance provided to him by Anderson.
(Bashir's mischaracterization likely comes from the misleading first paragraph of that same Chronicle story, which makes the same mistake, suggesting Bonds himself had tied the cream and clear substances that he used to BALCO when in fact it was prosecutors who had drawn the connection by suggesting the similarity.)
Worst of all, however, "20/20" viewers never got any sort of examination of Conte's motives in agreeing to the interview in the first place. As Selena Roberts pointed out in the New York Times, on the air Conte essentially admitted to crimes to which he has pled "not guilty" in federal court. Why? Conte claimed it's because he's seen the light and been reborn as a truth-teller; Bashir noted at one point that Conte is "furious at the way [his case has] been handled and at a string of leaks of evidence that he blames on the government." But we never get a more thorough examination of what inspired Conte to come forward with assertions that seem to put the lie to his own "not guilty" plea -- nor do we learn if he understands the legal ramifications of his about-face. Instead, he gets the celebrity treatment, complete with footage of him working out and playing bass guitar (Conte formerly played with the band "Tower of Power").
If Conte were a politician or a CEO of a major corporation charged with federal crimes, instead of a colorful figure in a doping story, no reporter would let him off the hook so easily. And if one did, the public would, rightly, be outraged.
