But I’m not sure the Joneses have ever had a sporting weekend quite like the last one. Just call it the very good, the very bad and the gonna-get-very-very-ugly.
The very good came from Smarty Jones, the estimable 3-year-old who made like Secretariat in running off with the Preakness Stakes. His victory provided horseracing fans with what is becoming an annual tease, the prospect of the first Triple Crown winner since Affirmed turned the trick back in 1978. Despite the painful lessons to our pocketbooks provided–five times in the last seven years–by horses that won the first two legs, then faltered in the Belmont, Mr. Jones is certain to go off a prohibitive favorite come Belmont Stakes Saturday next month. My advice: lay off Smarty and bet a long shot.
The very bad came courtesy of Mr. Roy Jones, who was long considered the best pound-for-pound fighter in the game (and even rated mention in the same breath with the immortal Sugar Ray Robinson for that distinction). Jones, 35, had only been knocked down once in his long career, but he was knocked senseless Saturday by Antonio Tarver’s left hook in their rematch for the light-heavyweight championship. Many believed Tarver got jobbed in their first title fight last year. That Jones subsequently moved up in weight and claimed part of the heavyweight title only further revealed what we knew–that the heavyweights, once boxing’s kings, are today its clown princes. As for Jones’s wobbly legs and suddenly cloudy future, my advice: bet shorter rather than longer.
The gonna-get-very-very-ugly came straight from the lips of one of America’s all-time Olympic sensations, Ms. Marion Jones. In the 2000 Olympics, Jones delivered a historic performance. Yet even before she left Sydney, her star was in decline. Somehow three golds, a silver and a bronze felt like a disappointment–certainly Jones felt it was–when it didn’t measure up to the five-gold dream she had shared very publicly before the Games. And her performance had also suffered the tarnish of guilt-by-association; in the middle of the competition, Jones was forced to “stand by her man” as her husband of the time, shot-putter C.J. Hunter, faced revelations that he had failed numerous drug tests.
Upon returning from Sydney, she quickly shed the shot-putter, though not her reputation–somewhat refreshing, if possibly self-destructive–for not giving much of a damn what anyone else thought. She and her new boyfriend, world 100-meter record-holder Tim Montgomery, soon began training with a new coach, Charlie Francis, whose major career distinction is a lifetime ban from Canadian teams for his involvement in the Ben Johnson drug scandal.
Jones and Montgomery had a son last summer and might, under certain circumstances, have found themselves celebrated, at the very least, for the world’s fastest baby. Instead, both have been under fire, linked to the federal investigation of the Bay Area Laboratory Co-Operative (BALCO) for the reputed sale of illegal, performing-enhancing drugs to elite athletes. Both sprinters have already testified before a grand jury and have publicly denied using any illegal drugs.
But this country, which has long dragged its feet in pursuit of its athletic cheats, has taken aim on its 2004 Olympic track and field team. The goal is to send a clean squad to Athens this summer (or at least to appear to be trying very hard to do that) and it would be far preferable to take action before that team is officially selected at the Track and Field Trials in July. Toward that end, the Senate Commerce Committee has turned over documents from the federal investigation of BALCO to the U.S. Anti-Drug Agency (USADA). And USADA has made it clear that certain evidence will be treated as the equivalent of a failed drug test–what enforcement officials are calling, in classic bureaucratic newspeak, “a non-analytical positive.”
On Sunday, at a major gathering of Olympic hopefuls and hundreds of media in New York, Jones repeated her claims of innocence and insisted that she had only purchased legal products–a zinc amalgam that hastens recovery–from BALCO. None of that constituted news. What did was when Jones said that she would not accept any decision to keep her off the Olympic team based on circumstantial evidence and hunches–and that if they tried, “you can pretty much expect that there would be lawsuits.”
There was a decided irony in Jones’s characteristically defiant performance. Montgomery was supposed to share the stage with her, standing by his lady just as she had by her previous man four years ago. But Montgomery called in sick, staying home in Raleigh, while Jones flew in alone and stood up to face the public suspicions. “I’m an elite athlete, the cover girl for track and field,” she said. “You have to expect I will be asked questions.”
But if Jones hoped her litigious stance might scare off the drug police from their newest tactic, she would quickly be disappointed. Just a few days later, USADA announced that sprinter Kelli White, who had become No. 1 in the world last year while Jones sat out the season with her newborn, became the first athlete to take a fall on a non-analytical positive stemming from the BALCO investigation. White admitted to using both undetectable steroids and endurance-enhancing EPO and she accepted a two-year ban from competition. The penalty was the minimum allowable because USADA officials said White has agreed to cooperate with its efforts. But the penalty also carried with it a historical correction: all White’s performances dating back to December 2000 will be expunged from the record books.
The swift action makes it clear that USADA is not bluffing and clearly now has the goods–in White’s case, the San Jose Mercury-News reported, they had copies of her regimen of illegal drugs–on some athletes. And apparently it is already meeting with attorneys for some other prominent, Olympic hopefuls. If USADA indeed targets Jones, it could be a historic confrontation–and potentially the biggest drug scandal in the sport since Ben Johnson’s gold-medal disqualification at the 1988 Olympics in Seoul. If you want to bet on the future, my advice: bet very, very ugly.
No Way, New York
A footnote to last week’s column, in which I wrote that while New York City would make the final cut for the competition to host the 2012 Olympics, it had no chance, no way to win the Games from its European competition. Though I praised New York’s plan, I said the politics–both world and Olympic–simply cut against the prospects of any American contender. Turns out I may have been too kind. The IOC technical team wasn’t all that impressed with the plan. Of the five finalists, New York trailed Paris, Madrid and London in the IOC ratings, finishing ahead of only Moscow. New York finished last among the finalists (or tied for last) in some key categories, including its much-ballyhooed waterfront Olympic village in Queens, environmental conditions and impact, and government support, legal issues and public opinion. And it finished ahead of only Moscow on the critical matters of transportation concept, financing, and safety and security. New York finished first, tied with London and Paris, in only one category–accommodations, a tribute to the city’s hotel industry. This makes me reassess New York City’s chances. Amend “no chance, no way” to “no chance, no way, no how.”
