One of the things that drives me a little nutty about the debate over performance-enhancing drugs is the notion that the effects are knowable and measurable. In some circles I'm detecting an attitude of certainty about what these drugs can or can't do that. In my view, that simply isn't justified.

That's why it was so refreshing to see some honest reporting in a Newsweek story on the controversy. First there's this:

Sweet and simple: An actual team doctor (by necessity a "former" team doctor, since a current one would get summarily fired for saying something like this) gives an actual quote to an actual reporter, and the editors include it in a story in the magazine.

You can say anything you want about the controversy, but it's hard to argue against the credibility of a source like this. Are you going to say he's delusional, or making it up? Are you going to tell him he doesn't understand medicine or the dynamics of sports performance, or the normal path from injury to recovery?

But the next quote is even more important:

In the congressional hearings on HGH, which took place the day before the Roger Clemens circus, I heard a researcher from a major university say the same thing, in almost the exact same words. If I recall correctly, the researcher was speculating that many of the effects athletes attribute to HGH may be caused by the steroids they're taking simultaneously. And he could very well be right. But the key here is to acknowledge that the only honest way to answer the question of the performance-enhancing effects of human growth hormone is to say, "We just don't know."

Athletes and their doctors believe the drugs work. I've been hearing this for years from the people I come across, who're mostly trainers and strength coaches. I get a chance to chat with researchers or former pro athletes from time to time, and I hear the same thing. The only way you can convince yourself that human growth hormone doesn't speed recovery and/or enhance performance is to ignore all the anecdotal evidence that comes from knowledgeable insiders who believe it does.

The next paragraph in the Newsweek story, alas, attempts to negate everything it just reported:

Now we're back to "athletes are too stupid to know they're taking a drug that doesn't work" and "the only reason they take it is because it can't yet be detected in a urine test."

Oh well. It was good while it lasted.

Now let me switch gears and talk about steroids. My opinion, which you're probably as sick of reading as I am of writing it, is that steroids can have a profound effect on the dynamics of the game. We know that steroids helped Jose Canseco evolve from a so-so prospect in the minors to Rookie of the Year, MVP, and a guy who was once thought to be on the cusp of the Hall of Fame. We believe they helped Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa, and Barry Bonds rewrite baseball's record book. We suspect they made a lot of ordinary players into all-stars, and I'm pretty sure that we'll end up with a few below-the-radar steroid users in the Hall of Fame.

But, because I've never been a high-level athlete and have never used training drugs, I'm really in the dark about the effects of the drugs beyond what happened to the most notable beneficiaries of their strength-building magic.

So I asked a strength coach recently how he viewed the issue. I don't have permission to use his exact words, since we were just emailing and it didn't occur to me before now to include it in a post. But I can say that he's on the fence about whether steroids really help players hit baseballs over the fence.

He said that hitting starts with swing mechanics, and nobody argues that steroids would enhance a player's technique. Do they improve hand-eye coordination? Jury's out. If steroids do indeed shorten an athlete's reaction time, then they should help any hitter improve. If they don't, then we're back to swing fundamentals, which steroids wouldn't change.

His somewhat contrarian view is that the increase in strength and power would give a much greater edge to a non-elite hitter like Jose Canseco, or to a talented singles-and-doubles hitter like Rafael Palmeiro. The balls they hit with flawed swings, or swings that aren't conducive to power generation, would go farther. The elite hitters, who already have that great hand-eye coordination and magnificent swing mechanics, would get less of an edge. But he adds that he goes back and forth every time he considers it. Wouldn't baseballs go farther when hit with a perfect swing that has more power behind it, just as they go farther with an imperfect swing?

However, he sees pitchers as the biggest beneficiaries of steroids. At this moment in sports science, it's accepted that steroids put more protein into muscles and allow for faster recovery between bouts of exertion. So a pitcher, in the opinion of this strength coach, would be able to throw harder for more innings, and to recover more completely between appearances. Think of the edge a pitcher would get if he could maintain his location and velocity for seven or eight innings per start, instead of five or six. That's the difference between an ordinary career and stardom.

His bottom line, he said, is that steroids can certainly help, and help enough to confer a distinct advantage to those who use them. They'll help some more than others, of course, but there's no point in trying to differentiate.

And they certainly they won't hurt. That is, they won't diminish anyone's performance, based on what we know now.

So without a concerted effort by baseball to get them out of the game, with real testing and real penalties for non-compliance, some will get an unfair edge, while for others the game will be commensurately harder.

When I asked about growth hormone, he took a pass. He suspects they'll help pitchers more than hitters, since recovery from one appearance to the next is so crucial, but other than that, he considers himself in the dark.

Just like the rest of us.