Author's Note: It's been a while since I last blogged here, and I won't go into reasons why, but I'm back to blog here again. Thanks for reading.

Mark McGwire's admission that he took steroids for the better part of his career comes as little to no shock to baseball people everywhere. Since his retirement after the 2001 season, there have been whispers of his alleged use of steroids, especially during his record-breaking 1998 season, in which he and Chicago Cubs slugger Sammy Sosa chased Roger Maris' single-season home run record. The whispers become full-throated accusations after his impossibly awkward and embarrassing appearance before the Committee on Government Reform of the House of Representatives on March 17, 2005. You may recall his public relations nightmare that day, when he repeatedly and clumsily told the Congressional committe that he could neither confirm nor deny his ever using steroids, and that he was not there "to talk about the past," despite the intentions of some Congressmen on that panel wishing to do exactly that. That day further solidified the rumors that McGwire was a steroid user, and McGwire fell into a self-imposed exile.

So why now, Mark? Why admit to what seemed pretty obvious.

Two reasons, one very clear, the other very abstract and possible. Reason one, since he accepted his former manager Tony LaRussa's job offer to be the hitting coach of the St. Louis Cardinals, that role comes with both high expectations and a glaring spotlight. For McGwire to assume that role and remain tight-lipped about his steroid past would prove to be too much of a distraction for an organization that prides itself on steering clear of needless distractions. I'm pretty certain that when LaRussa and the Cardinals organization made Mark McGwire the job offer, it certainly came with the caveat that at a certain point, of his choosing, McGwire needs to come clean about his past steroid use.

Reason number two is even more obvious: his Hall of Fame eligibility. McGwire's been eligible for HOF induction the past 4 years. In each of the previous voting sessions, McGwire's placed extremely short of the 75% vote total needed to enter the HOF. The past voting session, which saw Andre Dawson earn a well-deserved place in the HOF, McGwire gained 26% of the vote, well-short of the minimum eligibility, of course, but a big improvement over the numbers he's previously earned. It can be inferred that 26% of the vote means the voting committee is slowly warming up to his candidacy, and they may be willing to forgive his then-alleged steroid use. HOF? McGwire certainly has the numbers to earn a place in the HOF; his 583 home runs place him 8th all-time, and those are not numbers that can be scoffed at. He can point to those numbers as the X factor that will see to his induction. However, there are other factors that will hinder his HOF eligibility. For one, McGwire could never shake his one-dimensional status. He's a career .260 hitter, which would make him the player with the lowest batting average to be in the HOF - and if he does make it with those numbers, does that mean that another 500+ home run hitter like Jim Thome, who also could never shake that one-dimensional rep, also earns enshrinement? Most damaging is this fact: because McGwire began taking steroids during his playing days with the Oakland Athletics, just how many of those 583 home runs he hit were hit under the influence of steroids. If we do some quick math, it would seem that about half of the home runs he hit were hit while he was a steroid user. Those are unforgiving numbers, and a huge reason why McGwire will probably not make it into the HOF.

(What does this mean for other "tainted" players, like Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Alex Rodriguez and Rafael Palmeiro? And, let's say the aforementioned players do make it into the HOF, despite their performance-enhancing drugs' past, what then does that say about Pete Rose's eligibility for the HOF? Talk about opening up another can of worms!)

The cynics will decry Mark McGwire's admission as being just a ploy to make his HOF candidacy more palpable. I believe McGwire's admission was genuine. I believe McGwire is truly sorry for what he did. McGwire's fully aware that his reputation right now is in massive need of a makeover, and now that he's about to re-enter public life, the most he can do right now is beg for forgiveness and throw himself at the mercy of public opinion. He's fortunate that St. Louis Cardinals fans are a forgiving people, and they'll likely accept his apology. He can look to both Jason Giambi and Alex Rodgriguez, both of whom acknowledged their steroid use once it became public knowledge. The baseball community eventually accepted their apologies, to a large extent, although it will certainly take longer for McGwire's apology to bear weight; taking all this time to finally come clean poses questions about just how damaging was his steroid past to him.

Yet McGwire couldn't, or wouldn't, acknowledge the real reason why he took steroids. During his interview with Bob Costas on MLB Network last night, McGwire fumbled that one question: why? McGwire had been prone to injuries - he missed large chunks of the 1993 and 1994 seasons due to lingering injuries - all of which lends credence to his assertion that he took steroids for health purposes, mainly to help rebuild what had broken down. Fair enough, plausible enough. But steroids also created in him this Paul Bunyan mystique of a home run hitting slugger who crushed balls farther and deeper than they've ever been hit, and there's no way, contrary to McGwire's assertion that his mammoth dingers were all about hand-eye coordination and God-given talent. Andy Pettitte, the Yankees' left-handed who came clean about his HGH usage, asserted correctly that his usage was about rebuilding his surgically-repaired arm; Pettitte was not a habitual PED user. McGwire's usage of PED, or steroids, in this case, was one of the worst-kept secrets in baseball, brought to light by Jose Canseco in his tell-all books. For McGwire to claim that hitting a ball harder and farther than any man had nothing to do with his steroid use is the one disingenious thing regarding his admission.

But admitting to taking steroids just so that he could crush home runs at a higher frequency, with greater distance, is beyond obvious, and completely unnecessary. McGwire, just like Giambi and A-Rod, and, eventually, Barry Bonds, knew the one thing that sells the game of baseball: home runs. And home runs are sexy. Home runs brings fans to the ballpark. And during that season in which McGwire and Sosa both chase one of the most hallowed records in baseball, attendance numbers jumped, and he was credited with bringing goodwill back to baseball, 4 seasons after the lockout that left a bitter taste in fans' mouths everywhere. Now McGwire wishes he'd never played in that steroid era, where now it seems you as a ballplayer were judged not on your talent, but how many home runs you could hit, and how far those homers were hit.

Lee Jenkins of Sports Illustrated correctly illustrates that McGwire wasn't a victim of the steroid, he was its' ultimate creation. Who is to blame? We are. We want more home runs. We want more touchdowns. We want gravity-defying dunks. We want Michael Phelps to swim faster. We want Usain Bolt to run faster than any human being has ever run. We want pro wrestlers and UFC brawlers to be bigger and dish out more punishment in the ring. For all of us, myself included, to decry McGwire, A-Rod and other ballplayers who eventually came clean about their steroid use strikes me as hollow. We want to be outraged that baseball players - or athletes in other sports, for that matter - would betray our trust by using steroids, but, the fact is, we as fans fostered an environment in which winning means everything, no matter how you accomplish that. If we wanted our athletes to break records through God-given talent and perseverence, we would have rejected this steroid culture, but we didn't. We created the Mark McGwire as Home Run Hitter Monster myth, and now that that myth has been shattered, we heap scorn upon our self-created monster.

He never directly begged for forgiveness, but I forgive Mark McGwire. I admit, I've always like McGwire. He came across as a nice guy, decent, if distant and shy. What he did was a bad thing, but McGwire's not a bad guy. I, for one, welcome his admission, even if it does seem like it came several years' too late. If the baseball world can forgive an unlikable, self-absorbed schmuck like Alex Rodriguez, then that world can certainly find a way to forgive Mark McGwire.