Monday, December 01, 2008

By RON AGOSTINI
ragostini@modbee.com

last updated: June 19, 2008 12:34:51 PM

The summer of 1984 was punctuated by "Ghostbusters," Carl Lewis' four gold medals at the L.A. Olympics, $1.21 per gallon for gas and George Michael's "Careless Whisper."

Could have lived without "Careless Whisper." Will kill for $1.21 per gallon.

Regardless, add one more to '84: Ground Zero of baseball's steroids scandal. In Modesto. At John Thurman Field.

And I thought nationally-followed murder cases were enough notoriety for us.

East Bay native Dale Tafoya jogged our memory, however, with his incisive and compelling book, "Bash Brothers:

A Legacy Subpoenaed," about the rise and fall of Jose Canseco and Mark McGwire.

Baseball fans, especially Oakland Athletics baseball fans, remember the "Bash Brothers," the muscle-ripped sluggers who carried the A's to three World Series appearances and one championship. They personified that era and, without question, touched Tafoya, back then a San Lorenzo High student who took BART to the Coliseum to watch his heroes.

What you may not recall, though, was Canseco and McGwire during their stay in Modesto. Canseco was here in 1984, McGwire the final month of '84 and all of '85. They overlapped for only the end of '84 while the Motown A's nailed down a California League title.

McGwire and Canseco were young, ambitious and would have done anything to make a name for themselves in baseball. Sadly, we found out later how far they went.

Tafoya, 36, interviewed 150 people to chronicle "Bash Brothers." Unlike Canseco's "Juiced" and "Vindicated," books with an agenda the size of Canseco's ego, Tafoya's account is objective and professional. He presents the facts as he learned them and lets the reader decide. Neither McGwire nor Canseco talked to Tafoya — Canseco asked for money — but their acts say enough.

Simply, it's a must-read, beginning with the Modesto connection.

The year 1984 was disjointed for Canseco and McGwire. Canseco arrived but soon left Modesto after the death of his mother. When he returned that summer, he was refocused and showed off all those raw skills: fearsome power, speed and a good arm.

Already a manic weightlifter, Canseco envisioned something else. He promised his dying mother he would make himself the greatest athlete in the world.

"During his stay in Modesto," Tafoya wrote, "he (Canseco) became intrigued with anabolic steroids ... teammate Rocky Coyle remembered that steroids became a thought-provoking discussion with a handful of players in Modesto."

Meanwhile, McGwire — exhausted and injured from his season at USC, followed by the Olympics — reported to Modesto in midseason. To say McGwire struggled is a major understatement. Not only was he played out of position at third base, he couldn't adjust to swinging a wooden bat. He was skinny and sullen, a heralded draft pick drowning as a pro. He hit only one home run in 16 games. He nearly quit during the A's winter instructional league.

McGwire benefited from spring training in 1985 and was bigger and stronger when he returned to Modesto. He batted .274 with 24 home runs and 106 RBIs.

More important, Mark's younger brother, J.J., a bench-pressing hulk, made his presence in the A's clubhouse. Tafoya wrote that the brother casually discussed steroids with players.

"As players we knew what was going on, but it was an unwritten rule that you never said anything," an anonymous player said in Tafoya's book. "So Mark may have not gotten as deeply or heavily into it (steroids) by '88, but he was introduced into it at an early age."

Tafoya talked to such people as former Modesto A's General Manager Dan Kiser, team official Mike Cobleigh, many players and diehard fans such as Steve Gokey and Darlene Westley. Together, they shed critical light on seemingly innocent events that eventually blossomed into a full-blown crisis.

The author takes Canseco and McGwire from their career genesis to superstardom, all the way to their infamous Congressional hearing appearance in March 2005.

"I'm not here to talk about the past," McGwire said over and over. The Bash Brothers' final act wasn't exactly a tape-measure home run. It was more like a popup.

Today, McGwire is a semi-recluse. Canseco, an admitted steroids user, is viewed as a snitch, a joke, a man whose home was foreclosed on last month. Tafoya tells their story in exquisite detail.

"Modesto seems to draw national attention, this little city," Tafoya said last weekend before a book-signing session. "Did Modesto have a role in the steroids era? Possibly."

Bee sports columnist Ron Agostini can be reached at ragostini@modbee.com or 578-2302.

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