George Mitchell's Slow Boat to Nowhere

Excuse me, but I think I just heard the funniest damn thing about the whole steroid investigation ever.

Unless I am mistaken, the intrepid George Mitchell – right hand water boy for fop-haired Alan H. “Bud” Selig – is going around asking players like Barry Bonds to VOLUNTARILY hand over their health records and other information.

As Dave Barry would write: “I am not making this up.”

“Hey Bonds, can I get your med records for the last 10 years? And while you are at it, can I have your income tax returns, library card, and the key to your safe deposit box?”

I mean seriously. I am hardly a Bonds defender, but I would hope that Mitchell was greeted with a steaming mug of Shut the F Up Juice after that request.

What is the point exactly of Mitchell ASKING for these records? “Asking” is not an “investigation.” Investigations are about digging, and cross checking sources, and using leverage where possible.

It would be like your mom asking you: “Son, are you smoking pot?”

Unless Bud Selig thinks the public is stupid enough to buy an eventual “hey, we did all we could, without having subpoena power” argument, this is a gigantic waste of time and George Mitchell’s dignity.

Why not dig up Ken Caminiti and do a lab test or two on him?

What will Mitchell’s “investigation” present as “evidence?” A zip-locked baggie containing Jose Canseco’s book “Juiced?”

If Mitchell really wanted to dig up some dirt, here’s what he should (and could) do. Find the equipment manager for the Giants, and ask to see his order forms for hat sizes starting in 1993 until the present.

I would really love to see the per diem checks and re-imbursement forms from Mitchell’s now nearly year-long project. Where has he been, what has he been spending his money on?

If Bonds says “hell f’ing no!” to his polite request, is Mitchell prepared to offer up a “pretty, pretty please” to seal the deal?

Hey George, while you are asking people things of a highly personal nature, please ask your boss Bud if that’s his real hair. Looks sketchy to me.

Then again, I should keep an open mind. Maybe Mitchell will present a huge binder when this is all done, and in it will include bombshells like “And then Roger Clemens showed me where he kept his stash in the dugout.”

If this straight forward approach works out, we can all use it in real life. See a pretty woman walking down the street? Wonder if he boobs are real? Just ask! Say George Mitchell sent ya!

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