Sorry for the long stretch between posts. Simply put, I didn't have much to say. It's the time of the season where I'm finding my rhythm, hooking back up with regular media gigs, and of course prepping for book release for the second year in a row.

Last year while I was in New York, I spent time with Steven Goldman. Goldman, I'm proud to say, is not only a friend, but the heir to the throne of best baseball writers of his generation. As Angell, Kahn, and Koppett fade, as Barra, Pluto, and Kornheiser age, there's a new generation of writers that are finally getting their due: Alan Schwarz, Alex Belth, and Goldman all have first books out or coming soon.

It's odd to know all of them. I can imagine having dinner with them, something I can't do when I read Murray Chass or Richard Justice.

Anyway, last year, Goldman graciously gave me two books. One was a collection of New Yorker humor and the other was a collection of great essays. I read one a moment ago, reminding myself that Goldman gave me the book as not only a gift but as an education. Steven Jay Gould's "The Creation Myth of Cooperstown" is amazing stuff and important.

So much of baseball is myth and steroids are just one more. Yes, people use steroids and baseball players are people. That syllogism works. What people are doing is mythologizing steroids, using Jose Canseco's "Chemist" persona to point to the eating of the apple. 1998 wasn't just McGwire and Sosa 'saving baseball' it was a collection of myths now being rewritten as the great achievement of a tainted era.

It was evolution, not revolution. Steroids are a small part of the game, of society, of culture, and trying to make myths forgoes our chance at finding the truth. We're too worried about cause, ignoring effect.