The “summer” baseball book could have its own section on Amazon. You’re probably aware of the type. Summer baseball books are often flowery, celebratory tomes of a bygone achievement in America’s pastime, marked by unfamiliar adjectives that require the use of a Thesaurus and proclamations of grandeur that align baseball with American historical trends.
For people who aren’t obsessed with baseball — and I certainly fit into that category — these books will make you fall asleep atop your pool chair. Fortunately a different type of baseball book came out in July: “Blood Sport: Alex Rodriguez, Biogenesis and the Quest to End Baseball’s Steroid Era” by Tim Elfrink and Gus Garcia-Roberts (Dutton Adult, $27.95). It is the anti summer baseball book in the best way possible.
“Blood Sport” goes far beyond baseball, piecing together a performance enhancing drug scandal that encompasses superstar players like the Yankees’ Rodriguez, an ambitious and fake Miami doctor, shrewd but unethical MLB investigators and, most entertainingly, the grimy underside of South Florida athletic culture. It should be placed under the true crime section rather than the sports section at every book retailer.
Not familiar with the Biogenesis scandal? In January 2013, a dozen or so MLB players, including Mr. Rodriguez, were found to have dealt with Biogenesis, an anti-aging clinic in Florida run by a man named Anthony Bosch.
Mr. Elfrink broke the story for the Miami New Times, an alt-weekly newspaper. This was quite the score for Mr. Elfrink. Usually big media organizations like ESPN, CBS or Yahoo break those kinds of stories.
His original 5,000-word piece told the story of Anthony Bosch, a Miamian of Cuban descent and how he helped Major Leaguers dope. Mr. Elfrink teamed with Mr. Garcia-Roberts, a former colleague from the New Times who now works at Newsday, to author “Blood Sport,” providing a more-detailed picture of the scandal and revealing even more damning information about Mr. Rodriguez.
By the end of the scandal, MLB is filing predatory lawsuits and using unethical at best practices for its investigation. Mr. Rodriguez and his team are filing their own lawsuits and intimidating witnesses. Mr. Bosch is outed as not only the performance enhancing drug peddler of choice for Major Leaguers but also for high schoolers.
Florida decides not to indict Mr. Bosch even for illegally claiming to be a doctor because it wants to keep its anti-aging industry booming. Nobody escapes with clean hands, and Mr. Elfrink and Mr. Garcia-Roberts deftly convey the mess.
While it was Mr. Rodriguez and other stars like Melky Cabrera and Ryan Braun who made the Biogenesis scandal a front-page story, the more enticing subjects in this book are Mr. Bosch and the seedy and surprisingly savvy gang he ran around with at the anti-aging clinics and tanning salons of the South Florida strip malls.
Mr. Bosch aspired to be a doctor but couldn’t muster the work ethic needed to get through medical school. So he went to Belize and got a degree not recognized in America, wore a fancy lab coat, called himself Dr. Bosch and concocted doping regimens that were supposed to be undetectable, making himself a measure of fame — at least in steroid circles — but never too much fortune.
His penchant for not paying off his inner circle cost him dearly. One of his associates, Porter Fischer, tipped off Mr. Elfrink, which led to the New Times story and the ensuing MLB investigation.
Mr. Fischer and others in Mr. Bosch’s circle live a life that’s a cross between “Jersey Shore” and “Miami Vice.” It’s fascinating. I never realized tanning salon ownership had such allure. After the scandal broke, Mr. Fischer told Major League Baseball investigators he’d turn over all the evidence if they gave him enough money to start his own salon.
After another associate sold out Mr. Fischer to Mr. Rodriguez and to MLB, he used the money to incorporate a company specializing in tanning equipment and installation.
I wanted to read less about baseball and Mr. Rodriguez and more about these odd associates, Mr. Bosch and the South Florida culture that embraced them. How and why has Florida become the capital for people trying to improve their bodies to the point that they’ll go beyond legal means?
Still, Mr. Elfrink and Mr. Garcia-Roberts have managed to successfully convey how South Florida and its many sketchy characters helped cultivate one of the biggest sports scandals in recent history. Major League Baseball is a lot more interesting when it intersects with the antics of small-time criminals.
Mark Dent, a former Post-Gazette staff writer, is a freelance writer living in Philadelphia: mdent05@gmail.com or Twitter @mdent05
First Published: November 9, 2014, 5:00 a.m.
