Hunter's acquiescence smacks of guilt Track athletes need to do more to prove
they are clean

On the morning of last Sept. 25, C.J. Hunter sat in a jam-packed hotel
banquet room in Sydney and gave the performance of his life. Two days earlier
the news had broken that Hunter had tested positive for the banned steroid
nandrolone. It would later be disclosed by International Amateur Athletic
Federation officials that Hunter had tested positive not once, but four
times. News of Hunter's bust cast a dark shadow over the attempt by his wife,
Marion Jones, to win five gold medals. (She ultimately won three and two
bronzes, still a performance that ranks alongside those of Fanny
Blankers-Koen
and Florence Griffith Joyner as the greatest in women's Olympic
track and field history). Facing a roomful of voracious international media
on that rainy morning Down Under, Hunter wept openly. There's no question his
pain was real. Was he crying because he had, indeed, been undermined by
tainted nutritional supplements, as he claimed? Or because he was taking
steroids, got caught, and cast suspicion on his wife, whom no one doubts that
he loves? Only Hunter knew for certain. I know this. C.J. Hunter vowed that
day, "I don't know what happened, but I promise I'm gonna find out."
Celebrity lawyer Johnnie Cochran stood nearby, disingenuously telling
reporters that he was in Sydney only as a friend of the family. The prospect
was intriguing. Imagine the theater, if Cochran stood in front of a jury,
pitching Hunter's innocence. If the sample is not hot, he must throw the shot.
But there was more to it than that. Hunter claimed that day that his
positives were the result of contaminated supplements. Sadly, the expert
witnesses he produced to support his claim were inept and unprepared. If
Cochran had anything to do with that show, he should have been ashamed. The
issue, however, was fascinating. It's easy to damn C.J. Hunter and wash him
down the toilet with all the other, as the Aussie papers called them, "drug
cheats." He's a shot-putter, and throwers have long lived at ground zero in
the drug war. He can be an unfriendly bully. He's an easy target. His wife is
ungodly fast and got faster after she met him. Plus, many track journalists
and fans suspect everybody of using performance-enhancing drugs. Repeat:
everybody. Positive drug tests are greeted with knowing shrugs. Yet, part of
Hunter's argument made sense. There have been hundreds of nandrolone
positives in the last two years, an inexplicable resurgence in a prehistoric
steroid that has long been supplanted among cutting-edge athletes. It's
easily detected, even by Keystone Cops drug testers. So why would anybody use
it, except accidentally? Hunter has more access to money and doctors than
most track athletes could dream of. If he wanted to use drugs, he could get
the good stuff. So maybe Mr. Marion Jones did have the power to explain the
problem and clear himself. Then came Thursday's news. Hunter has told USA
Track & Field that he will not contest the charges brought against him by
USATF and the IAAF, and will accept a two-year ban. In his own statement,
issued through Jones' p.r. firm, Hunter called the ban "irrelevant" because
of his decision to retire after the 2000 Games. It's not irrelevant. If
Hunter was so convinced of his innocence in September, why not go forth and
prove it? His statement Thursday hinted at a vast coverup of supplement
problems by the IOC and IAAF. That's possible, too, but why didn't Hunter
stick around and fight until proven clean, like he promised? Not just for his
own name, but for his wife's and for the sport as a whole? His quiet
acceptance of his ban will be interpreted by many as an admission of guilt.
It's time for track athletes to face the truth. The only way to make skeptics
-- and there are many -- believe that they are clean is to constantly prove
it. Just this week, organizers of five of the world's most prominent
marathons asked governing bodies to implement blood testing for competitors
in their events. If I was an elite track or road-racing athlete and I was
clean, I would go further. I would get myself tested as often as I could
afford, and I would make the results public. Is it fair that athletes have to
prove their innocence? No, it isn't. But it's reality.

Edward Caine, Esq.
You sure you want to hang with ol Eddie Caine Jr.? - 1997

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