The Washington Post - USA (2022-02-22)

(EriveltonMoraes) #1

D4 EZ SU THE WASHINGTON POST.TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 22 , 2022


ed to it,” Snyder said. “It’s a highly
addictive drug, and mistakes hap-
pen.”

By the numbers
Making the matter murkier are
test results that appear to suggest
fears of an opioid epidemic in
baseball, at least in the years since
Skaggs’s death, are overblown.
After Skaggs’s death, MLB an-
nounced that it would start test-
ing for opioids, saying players
who test positive would first be
put on a treatment plan rather
than disciplined. The MLB Play-
ers Association agreed to the
change, with Executive Director
Tony Clark saying the players
“want to take a leadership role in
helping to resolve this national
epidemic.”
MLB has conducted 12,169
drug tests over the past two sea-
sons. While those tests implicated
15 players for using performance-
enhancing drugs, according to
public annual reports released by
MLB, the number of positives for
running afoul of the opioid policy
is zero.
And in the minor leagues,
where players have been tested
for opioids for two decades, the
numbers were also low, according
to a person with knowledge of the
testing program. Of more than
95,000 drug tests over the past
seven years, according to that per-
son, there have been 12 opioid or
opiate violations — and none in
upward of 16,000 tests in the past
two seasons.
But outside of the disclosure of
the number of tests, MLB has
been opaque on key points about
its program that could more de-
finitively show the extent of
abuse.
Opioid abuse historically has
been fueled as much by lax pre-
scribing as black-market distribu-
tion. But MLB doesn’t make pub-
lic the number of tests in which a
player tested positive for opioids
in which his use of the drugs was
deemed to be authorized by a
“valid medically appropriate pre-
scription provided by a duly li-
censed physician,” which is al-
lowed under MLB policy.
Giving that authorization is the
job of the Joint Treatment Board,
which includes four people, with
MLB and the players union repre-
sented by a medical professional
and a lawyer apiece; their identi-
ties have not been publicly dis-
closed.
According to a person involved
in management of the testing pro-
gram, the number of MLB players
who have tested positive for opi-
oids in the two years of testing is
in the low single digits. In each
case, according to that person, the
legitimacy of the player’s need for
opioids was “quite obvious” —
most commonly from a short-
term prescription following sur-
gery.
The clashing perspectives on
the scope of the problem differ
from the episode decades ago,
when players were compelled to
testify about drug abuse in the
clubhouse. Following the Pitts-
burgh drug trials, there was no
doubt that the game, like wider
society in the 1980s, was in the
midst of a cocaine scourge.
In that case, Philadelphia Phil-
lies clubhouse caterer Curtis
Strong, described by his lawyer as
a “poor, pitiful baseball junkie,”
was among seven men — all non-
players — indicted on charges of
drug distribution, and he was sen-
tenced to 12 years in prison.
When Kay is sentenced in June,
mandatory minimums ensure
he’ll be slated to do more time
than that. He faces between 20
years and a life sentence.

out” and arranged for Kay to leave
him an oxycodone pill in his lock-
er.
But when he learned the next
day of Skaggs’s death, Harvey
said, he rushed back to the ball-
park to retrieve the pill and throw
it away. “I didn’t want anything to
do with that,” said Harvey, who
spent last season with the Balti-
more Orioles. “I was scared.”
Former Angels pitcher Cam
Bedrosian told the jury that he got
“three or four” oxycodone pills
from Kay and took one but felt
guilty and “kind of weird.” He said
he gave the remaining pills back
to Kay. Pitcher Blake Parker said
he purchased 10 pills from Kay
but his hand turned numb after
he took half of one so he returned
the rest. And a Drug Enforcement
Administration agent testified
that another Angels pitcher, Gar-
rett Richards, sent Kay $1,700 via
Venmo.
Skaggs’s opioid dependency
was described as the result of a
confluence of baseball stressors.
His mother testified that he be-
came hooked on Percocet to cope
with having to perform at a high
level; his wife, Carli, said he was
under pressure to stay healthy
and keep playing.
But multiple players said they
had no source for opioids other
than Kay, countering the idea of a
widespread, leaguewide practice
of players popping pills to play
through injuries.
Pitcher Andrew Heaney ac-
knowledged every player’s “on-
going battle to remain healthy,”
but he said he had never used any
drug outside of marijuana. And he
said Skaggs, with whom he was
close friends, never told him
about his drug use, suggesting it
was a closely held secret.
The existence of an MLB club-
house with members regularly
trading pain pills seemed like an
anomaly to Snyder, the longtime
professional ballplayer. He said
the demands of the season would
make it nearly impossible to
maintain a career while depend-
ent on opioids.
“Baseball players are human
beings, and whether you’re a con-
struction worker that hurts his
back on a site and is prescribed
medication and is addicted to it,
[that] is no different than a base-
ball player that has a shoulder
surgery and ends up being addict-

Federal agents testified about
Kay’s suspected source, a dealer
they knew as “Ashley Smith.” But
they acknowledged that that
name was probably a pseudonym
and that they did not follow up on
the identity or whereabouts of
Smith, whose “burner” phone was
deactivated following Skaggs’s
death.
Kay’s lawyer, Michael Molfetta,
claimed the apparent lack of pur-
suit of Smith was evidence that
federal authorities were satisfied
with the publicity inherent in a
case implicating Kay, a team em-
ployee whom Molfetta described
as a lackey for the players.
“A professional athlete, that has
some cachet,” Molfetta said dur-
ing his closing argument.

A lineup of witnesses
The trial’s highest-profile mo-
ments came with the testimony of
major leaguers, who discussed a
secret practice of drug use in the
game. The players, at least one of
whom was compelled to testify
and given immunity as long as he
told the truth, appeared uncom-
fortable, sometimes crying in the
witness box.
Pitcher Mike Morin, once
S kaggs’s teammate with the An-
gels, said Kay provided him with
oxycodone pills; he said he would
bite off a piece before taking the
field. First baseman C.J. Cron said
he got pills from Kay roughly
eight times — when he was with
the Angels and after he was traded
to the Tampa Bay Rays. Both testi-
fied that they learned of Kay’s
access to pills through Skaggs.
Harvey, who was an all-star for
the New York Mets before joining
the Angels, acknowledged co-
caine use throughout his career.
When asked by a prosecutor
whether it was common for play-
ers to use oxycodone and Tylenol,
he answered, “Yes,” and he also
testified to sharing his own drugs
with Skaggs.
Harvey said that in hindsight
he wished he had advised Skaggs
to be careful. “In baseball, you do
everything you can to stay on the
field,” he said. “At the time I felt as
a teammate I was just helping him
get through whatever he needed
to get through.”
Harvey said he learned before
the Angels’ road trip to Texas —
where Skaggs died — that he was
not going. Harvey said he felt “left

position, which granted him ac-
cess to the Angels’ players, such
that he was constantly seen hang-
ing out with players in the locker
room, on the team plane, and in
their hotel rooms?” a civil com-
plaint reads. “The answer to this
question became obvious when
Kay admitted to DEA investiga-
tors he had been providing illegal
opioids to at least six Angels play-
ers.”
Prosecutors claimed in pretrial
court filings in the Kay case that
the Angels were defying a subpoe-
na seeking documents related to
“illegal drug-dealing in their or-
ganization.” The Angels coun-
tered that they had provided fed-
eral authorities with nearly 1 mil-
lion pages of internal documents,
except for those covered by
a ttorney-client privilege. A judge
agreed, calling the prosecutors’
subpoena “a government fishing
expedition.”
During the trial, the only non-
player employee of the Angels
said to have knowledge of the
drug use was a clubhouse atten-
dant, who prosecutors claimed
had linked Kay with the dealer
who sold him the pill that killed
Skaggs.
But unlike in other drug cases,
there appeared to be little interest
in following the fentanyl-laced
pill up the supply chain. Court
testimony suggested Kay, who
used the same drugs that he dis-
tributed to Skaggs and other play-
ers, didn’t profit from the prac-
tice.

high-profile overdose deaths, in-
cluding those of actor Michael K.
Williams and rapper Mac Miller.
In the case of Skaggs, who was
27 when he was found dead with a
mix of alcohol, fentanyl and oxy-
codone in his system, prosecutors
appeared intent on connecting
his death to a systemic problem in
the sport — and potential com-
plicity by the Angels.
In announcing Kay’s indict-
ment in August 2020, Erin Nealy
Cox, then U.S. attorney for the
Northern District of Texas, sug-
gested Skaggs was driven to opi-
oid addiction because he was
“battling through a number of
injuries as he continued to play
ball.” The prosecutor asked play-
ers dealing with addiction to call a
hotline.
And the prosecution has at
times aligned with allegations
made in lawsuits filed by Skaggs’s
family that have blamed the An-
gels for his death. In those law-
suits, Skaggs’s family, represented
by attorney Rusty Hardin, has
claimed that top team brass al-
lowed Kay — who allegedly had
survived a recent overdose — “un-
restricted access” to players who,
because of “the rigors of a 162-
game schedule... are at risk of
turning to medication to assist
with pain management.”
The lawsuits even suggested
that the Angels kept Kay on staff
because of, not in spite of, his
proximity to pain pills.
“Why would the Angels pro-
mote a drug addict to an executive

s uggesting the Angels and MLB
are complicit.
“There’s no question the MLB
system is broken,” assistant U.S.
attorney Errin Martin said during
her closing statement. “[Major
leaguers] have to do whatever it
takes to play.”
That appeared to be the gov-
ernment’s answer to the question
that was raised by the discovery of
S kaggs’s body at a Texas hotel in
2019: Does baseball have an opi-
oids problem? But outside the
courthouse, there’s hardly a con-
sensus that baseball is in the grips
of a drug dependency epidemic.
MLB’s own numbers, the product
of thousands of random drug tests
implemented following Skaggs’s
death, indicate the opposite. And
players interviewed by The Wash-
ington Post said that, outside of
the Skaggs case, they had never
encountered opioid abuse in
baseball.
“I’ve played 17 years, and I nev-
er saw or heard of any teammate
who took part in that,” said Bran-
don Snyder, who has played pro-
fessionally since 2005, including
major league stints with five
teams. “It’s hard for me to believe
that it’s an epidemic that’s going
through baseball.”
“To be brutally honest, obvious-
ly we can say that there might be
an issue because someone has
passed away,” Chicago Cubs catch-
er Yan Gomes said. “But I haven’t
heard or been around anything
like that.”
“I can’t remember ever having a
conversation or hearing anything
about opioid use among coaches
or players throughout my career,”
said Will Venable, a former player
who is now bench coach for the
Boston Red Sox.
Those in the game who do have
experience with opioid abuse may
be hesitant to admit it in public.
And MLB, given its history of
covering up steroid use, is sure to
inspire cynicism when it insists
the game is clean.
Depending on how you viewed
it, Kay’s trial showed Skaggs’s
death was either the result of a
sport whose athletes become ad-
dicts as they attempt to push
through pain and a grueling
schedule o r an unfortunate, iso-
lated incident involving a few
drug users who happened to be
employed by the same team.
Agent Lonnie Murray said she
had clients who struggled with
opioid abuse, including a minor
leaguer who, after injuring his
back, died of what she believed
was an oxycodone overdose. But
baseball, Murray said, only re-
flects the wider crisis of opioid
abuse. “I think it’s a problem in
society,” she said. “I don’t think it’s
more prevalent in baseball than it
is in society.”
She expressed an opinion held
by many in baseball — that Kay
was scapegoated. She said she be-
lieved the government attempted
to depict the case as a takedown of
baseball’s supposed pain pill cul-
ture so that it appeared a more
worthwhile cause than sending
one drug user to prison for dec-
ades after the death of another.
“When we’re talking about the
prosecutor trying to make it an
Angels thing or an MLB thing,
that is how you get a conviction,”
Murray said. “You have to make it
about big business versus an indi-
vidual.”


Celebrity cases


As America’s fentanyl epidemic
has proved impossible to corral,
federal authorities appear to have
focused on cracking down on the
street-level dealers involved in


OPIOIDS FROM D1


Trial spilled secrets, but is this baseball’s next drug scandal?


MARCIO JOSE SANCHEZ/ASSOCIATED PRESS
Matt Harvey, shown in 2019, said it was common for players to use oxycodone and Tylenol and that he shared his drugs with Tyler Skaggs.

LM OTERO/ASSOCIATED PRESS
Former Angels employee Eric Kay was found guilty last week
of providing drugs to Skaggs, who died of an overdose in 2019.

BY CHELSEA JANES

jupiter, fla. — The late push to
find common ground on a collec-
tive bargaining agreement in
time to avoid missing regular
season games began in a parking
lot Monday afternoon. Ten play-
ers, among them stars Max
Scherzer and Francisco Lindor,
circled around Major League
Baseball Players Association
chief Tony Clark for what looked
something like a pregame pep
talk.
Instead of baseball pants and
cleats, they wore jeans and
sneakers. Instead of jerseys, they
wore polo shirts. Then all at once
they marched through the park-
ing lot and into Roger Dean
Stadium, the spring training
home of the St. Louis Cardinals
and Miami Marlins — and the
site of what both sides have said
will be a week’s worth of in-per-
son negotiations.
No one is using that stadium
for much at the moment, given
that a lockout now in its third
month has forced the postpone-
ment of spring training and at


least a week’s worth of Grape-
fruit and Cactus League games.
Colorado Rockies owner Dick
Monfort, San Diego Padres own-
er Ron Fowler and representa-
tives from MLB already had
made their way inside.
Over the course of five hours
Monday afternoon, the sides met
face-to-face for about 75 minutes,
broke into their own caucuses to
discuss rebuttals for a few hours,
met again, then separated again,
according to people involved,
who said the sides addressed a
wide range of issues. Players
spoke directly to owners in those
meetings, according to a person
in the room.
MLB also made a proposal,
one the union did not find partic-
ularly helpful. Owners upped
their commitment to a bonus
pool that would reward high-
achieving players not yet quali-
fied for arbitration from $15 mil-
lion to $20 million to be dis-
bursed among 30 top perform-
ers. The union’s latest proposal
called for that bonus pool to
consist of $115 million to be
distributed among 150 players.

MLB also increased the num-
ber of teams it would be willing
to include in a draft lottery from
three to four, having argued
repeatedly that merely agreeing
to a lottery at all, instead of
automatically rewarding the

worst team with the top pick,
represents a concession in itself.
The union believes MLB is not
moving far enough to prevent
annual also-rans from being re-
warded with revenue sharing
and prime draft picks and has

asked that a draft lottery include
eight teams.
Just as importantly, neither
side made any change to its
proposal for the competitive bal-
ance tax threshold or tax rates —
a sticking point that is usually
one of the final pieces negotiated
in any CBA discussion. MLB was
the last side to move on that
number, upping its offer to one
that sets the threshold at
$214 million in 2022 and calls for
it to increase to $222 million
over the five-year agreement.
MLB’s offer also includes a
near doubling of the tax rates
charged to teams that eclipse
those thresholds, which union
representatives have maintained
must change before a deal can
get done. The union’s most re-
cent stated goal for the CBT
threshold is $245 million, and
MLBPA representatives have al-
tered that proposal in recent
weeks.
Both sides will soon have to
find middle ground there and
elsewhere if they hope to avoid
missing regular season games,
something both have said public-

ly they do not want to do — while
suggesting privately that the oth-
er side is secretly plotting to hold
out until that happens.
Earlier this month, MLB in-
formed the players union that
the latest date it believes a deal
can get done to start the regular
season on time is Feb. 28. The
union does not necessarily agree
with that, but MLB has more
control over the timeline than
the players: The lockout is not
mandatory, and the owners
could lift it at any time.
But the owners will not lift the
lockout before an agreement is
reached, leaving the sides rough-
ly six days before the scheduled
start of the regular season top-
ples over the cliff into uncertain
oblivion, six days to close gaps
that have hardly narrowed in
three months. For weeks the
sides have been negotiating in
fits and starts — a day here, an
hour there. Perhaps the most
promising part of Monday’s ne-
gotiations is that they plan to
funnel into the Roger Dean Sta-
dium parking lot again and have
more of them Tuesday.

MLB and players union meet but find little has changed


STEVE NESIUS/ASSOCIATED PRESS
MLB has informed the players union that the latest date it believes
a deal can get done to start the regular season on time is Feb. 28.
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