Mark McGwire's 'Confession' Is As Weak As His Character

Mark McGwire is finally ready to discuss the past. Well, sort of.

McGwire's long overdue admission of steroid and HGH use throughout his career is a study in contradictions.

On the one hand, the big slugger's tearful apology on MLB Network only confirmed what so many have suspected since at least 2005, when he struck out in front of a congressional panel.

He appeared genuinely embarrassed by his choices—he called them "mistakes"—and was hurt by the shame they've brought down on his family, the Maris family, and the game at large.

Given the chance to do it all again, he'd like you to believe he would do it clean.

On the other hand, the public got a vivid look at the kind of man McGwire is and what has changed in his mindset the last five years: nothing.

Big Mac's Monday confession was plagued with little qualifiers and half-truths. He admitted to using illegal performance-enhancing drugs but denied he cheated.

Steroids and HGH, he said, were only ever consumed as a way to bounce back from injury quicker, or to prevent the wear-and-tear of a 162-game season from setting in.

“I did not take this for any strength purposes, at all,” McGwire told MLB Network's Bob Costas in an interview.

Tony LaRussa, McGwire's former manager with the Oakland A's and St. Louis Cardinals, echoed that sentiment, telling ESPN's Baseball Tonight that he “knew” his locker room was clean and his guys were doing things the right way.

He went on to condemn McGwire's actions but claimed that he wasn't trying to blatantly cheat.

“There's a difference, you know?” LaRussa offered.

No, we don't know. Please tell us.

What is the difference between violating the rules to gain and edge over your opponents, and cheating?

What is the difference between injecting yourself with illegal substances, and doing wrong?

What is the difference between making a mistake, and tainting the game forever?

Confessions are, by their very nature, self-serving affairs. But McGwire's effort to come clean revealed an attempt to only admit as much as he thought he had to.

And make no mistake, he is admitting as much to us as he is willing to admit to himself.

McGwire forcefully declared to Costas that he wished he never played during the so-called “Steroid Era.” It wasn't his fault, he seemed to say, it was just the time he played.

Like former druggies who blame the collective ignorance of the 1960's for their past missteps.

McGwire also took a shot at the league, saying he wished there were better drug testing methods in his day, presumably similar to what we have now.

Hindsight is always 20/20. But blindness is still a poor excuse for tripping over your own feet.

McGwire cannot accept that his career was a lie, that he was not just part of a shameful chapter in baseball history but one of its primary authors.

He'd like us all, himself included, to believe he was just a product of the environment in which he played, that he would still be a prolific slugger without PEDs.

And that may be, but it is only partly accurate.

The truth, like his confession, is also a study in contradictions: In spite—or perhaps because—of all the steroids, all the HGH, McGwire is a weak man.

He was weak in his playing days for succumbing to a foolish and dishonest method to boosting his career. And he is weak as a disgraced retiree looking for complete absolution with a partial confession.

McGwire tried to take that all-important first step forward toward acceptance. But really he's taken two steps back with his continued and pathetic attempt to make excuses for his actions.

McGwire did not make a “mistake” by taking steroids. Losing your keys, stepping on a person's foot, those are mistakes. Like so many of his peers, he cheated.

Yes, he came along in a disgraceful time in baseball for which players and management alike are to blame but none of that excuses his behavior, then or now.

McGwire does not deserve to be forsaken, but neither does he deserve to be forgiven.