By 1998, the Cardinals’ first baseman was goliath’s goliath. 250 pounds of bones, muscle, and steroid juice made his jersey seams throb. He was as rugged as coral reef and as monstrous as the whales that eat it. The guy was getting paid half of Zurich, yet not a cent was for illegal steroids. Or so he claimed.

Even from the time Mark McGwire was a youngster in the league, putting steroids through his system would’ve been like spraying cologne on a stick of deodorant; he had a legal 49 homers in his second season! Of course he wouldn’t have needed needles or pills, but that was over a decade prior. By ’98, he’d made 40 look routine.

It was the innocent-looking jar of over-the-counter androstenedione found in his locker that shook away all the suspicion. At the time within legal boundaries of the league, McGwire inched his way past Sammy Sosa, also in line for skepticism soon to come. McGwire went on to a record-puncturing 70 home runs on the season, Sosa at a following 66. This happened to be Bud Selig’s first few months as the official commissioner.

His first step of the offseason would to presumably ban the steroid precursor McGwire snacked on, right? Wrong. And this word defines the passive approach Selig went to hold onto until 2004. It turned into more of a reputation through his entire tenure as commissioner. Actions would all seem by the public to be not enough of an attack in the drug war. From steroids to PEDs (performance-enhancing drugs), the mess of pills and needles never seemed to be handled in a firm enough manner until now. Here’s the story since Selig’s first stab at steroids in ’05.
By mid-decade, Selig enforced a stricter PED testing regime. It was perhaps a little late, given the fact that a U.S. Senate committee had to be the ones to finally give the advice to make the system stricter. Taking action is taking action, nonetheless.

Early that season, Alex Sanchez of Tampa Bay was suspended, making it the first under the new steroid-testing program. Selig had finally scored a run for Team Justice.
But it just wasn’t enough.

Jose Conseco’s book ‘Juiced’ of 2005 revealed the truth of his steroid use through MVP honors, as well as numerous others’. Even after, Selig publicly stated his belief that the game didn’t have a major steroids problem. Selig remained pleased with the five to seven percent of players testing positive for PEDs, though he continuously was told to consider discarding the program. He was even threatened that federal legislation govern drug testing in baseball instead. Selig then requested stricter policies.

But it just wasn’t enough.

Not long after, Conseco released his second book ‘Vindicated.’ He was “confident” Alex Rodriguez took steroids. “I did everything but inject the guy myself,” he wrote.

Rodriguez, though? Never! Here’s the guy that, in 2007, sitting as still as the Lincoln Memorial, promising fish eyes locked on Katie Couric, told America he has never used PEDs.

He had been feeding the public anthrax brownies for years. As we rush to the toilet, this whole biogenesis investigation is starting to come into flow. Why’d it take this long to digest? The public has been fed these lies by the plate, no deep consideration for the falsity of them.
Names were spilled into the limelight, and criticism soon poured on.

The testing policies of 2008 were sought to be changed, and three years removed from implements on policies thought to be good enough, changed they were. Again, perhaps a little late. But by 2011, the list of banned substances added 600 more tests per year.

Just enough, right? The answer hung in the balance until now. 12 players were banned 50 games, Rodriguez through the 2014 regular season. If Rodriguez’s appeal on the ban is turned down, he’d be money in the trash. With so much potential to be used, he’d have to sit in seclusion. And sympathy shouldn’t once cross by. The Yankees’ usage on him was halted when, caught up with “naïve” behavior, he thought he could outrun tests scanning for any whiff of positivity. Though, of course, sympathy may roll back into the realm of acceptance by the time late 2014 rolls around. Try 210 games into a 211-game suspension. Only at that point will this mess be hammered home that to hammer home on the field, a player has to stay as clean as a germaphobe’s pillowcase.

May this enforcement be the final nail on the coffin of drugs in baseball.

Evan Longoria said it best via Twitter: “Ultimately, although today will be a day of infamy for MLB, it is a tremendous step in the right direction for the game we love.” Couldn’t have said it better.

Maybe, Mr. Selig, this, finally, was just enough.