Addressing a drug problem that is not a problem at all

Good thing Aaron Fike wasn't an outfielder or a second baseman. With all the focus on drugs in Major League Baseball, in the aftermath of the juiced-ball era and Jose Canseco's book and the Mitchell Report, surely he'd have been busted by Bud Selig long before he and his girlfriend were arrested in the parking lot of an Ohio amusement park with syringes of heroin stuck in their arms.

Well, maybe not. If Fike had been shooting up performance enhancers like androstanediol or nandrolone or methyltestosterone, he almost certainly would have been caught and suspended for 50 games. But not for heroin, something he likely wouldn't have been tested for. Because when it comes to street drugs, the masters of the so-called national pastime use a different approach. It's called reasonable cause.

Sound familiar? It should. It's the same tactic NASCAR uses with its drivers, a tactic that's come under fire from critics and competitors alike now that Fike has admitted to using drugs on race days. As a result the sanctioning body of major stock-car racing has been portrayed as a pariah, a head-in-the-sand organization out of step with other professional sports. Former Daytona 500 champion Kevin Harvick blasted NASCAR for what he called an outdated drug policy. Bucking the national trend among athletes, virtually every top driver in the Sprint Cup garage area voiced support for random testing.

It's all raised quite a din. Yes, NASCAR has a substance-abuse policy every driver must agree to before he steps into the car, and officials can test anyone at anytime. Yes, offenders in NASCAR -- the few that there have been -- face brutally tough penalties beginning with an indefinite ban and ending with a lifetime one. But the picture being painted here is one that shows NASCAR on the wrong side of the moral fence, as the only pro sport acting lenient when all the others are getting tough. Completely lost in the argument is the reason why all those other sports have stiffer drug-testing policies, and it's not to stop one kid in an amusement park parking lot from shooting up smack.

It's to prevent athletes from gaining a chemical edge. With the notable exception of the NBA -- where marijuana use has become entrenched, and players are routinely arrested for possession -- every other sport tests first and foremost for performance-enhancers such as steroids. Peruse the list of banned substances in a team sport drug policy, all you'll get bogged down by compounds like noretiocholanolone and beta-2 agonists. Substance-abuse drugs like cocaine and heroin are way down the list, if they're mentioned at all. Baseball doesn't test for street drugs. The NCAA can't, leaving that task up to its member schools. To cast NASCAR as something of an oblivious, lone outpost in the war on drugs is to manipulate the truth.

The reason the Olympics began drug testing in 1976? Steroids. The reason the NFL began drug testing in 1990? Steroids. The reason tennis began drug testing in 1993? Steroids. The reason the NHL began drug testing in 2006? Steroids. The reason professional cycling conducts drug tests? Steroids. The reason the PGA Tour is implementing a drug-testing policy next year? Steroids. The reason for the recent upheaval in Major League Baseball? Steroids. (Continued)