Who steals my purse steals trash; 't is something, nothing;

'T was mine, 't is his, and has been slave to thousands;

But he that filches from me my good name

Robs me of that which not
enriches him

And makes me poor indeed.


The outgoing head of baseball's player union was all about the purse; not its filching — its filling, and fill it he did.

Under Donald Fehr's leadership, the average major league salary grew from $293,000 to $2.9 million. So, too, grew players' power and perks.

All this is fine. What worker doesn't want more money and more control over his environment? Baseball players, who for decades had been abused by management, had to battle owners hard for fair compensation and basic rights. In this, they were more than well served by Fehr.

Fehr's never-give-an-inch mentality and his focus on improving the financial well-being of the players helped baseball's union become the envy of professional athletes everywhere. His tooth-and-nail fight against drug testing has to be seen largely in the light of taking care of the players' pocketbooks: Steroids meant greater performances, and greater performances meant more money.

But that mind-set came with costs.

The vast number of major league steroid users from the "glory days" remain anonymous, which means determining the effects of the illegal performing-enhancing drugs on their aging bodies will be difficult to impossible. But as steroid use can lead to liver tumors and cancer, high blood pressure, heart attack and stroke, there's no question Fehr, the union and all of baseball put players' long-term health at risk for financial gain.

Fehr's long resistance to drug testing came with another price, one easier to gauge.

This year, Mark McGwire, a man with 583 home runs, received 21.9 percent of the votes for the Hall of Fame. Needed for election: 75 percent.

Monday, the Oakland A's began to honor their 1989 world champion team by giving away replicas of McGwire's jersey. But the former slugger, who was invited to throw out the first pitch, wasn't on hand. It seems that even in Oakland he won't risk being booed, or being hounded by reporters. He might as well be in the witness-protection program.

Ask McGwire today if he would like his reputation back. For that matter, ask Alex Rodriguez or Barry Bonds. Ask Roger Clemens or Raphael Palmeiro. I'm guessing that if they had it to do all over again, they'd take less green in exchange for a good name.

Fehr didn't make anyone take steroids, but he made it easier for players to do. As Fehr retires, and his legacy is discussed, I'm thinking he, too, would like a do-over with the drug era.

For his name's sake.