MLB soon dispatched a team of investigators to South Florida. They were led by Dan Mullin, a tough former New York Police Department deputy chief who'd been appointed to head baseball's new Department of Investigations.

Two senior vice presidents — Pat Courtney and Rob Manfred — meanwhile, visited the New Times office. Their request was simple: Share the documents. (New Times eventually declined.)

By February, Fischer had returned to Miami and moved into his mother's Pinecrest home. It was surrounded by fences and tall hedges, so he could spot anyone coming.Reporters had been driving by for weeks. An MLB investigator one day left a business card that later found its way into an ESPN report: "We know time is $," he had scrawled on the back. "Please call."

Porter Fischer took records from Biogenesis after the clinic's owner, Tony Bosch, failed to repay him $4,000.
Marta Xochilt Perez
Porter Fischer took records from Biogenesis after the clinic's owner, Tony Bosch, failed to repay him $4,000.
Major League Baseball has sued Tony Bosch over allegations he sold performance-enhancing drugs to ballplayers.
Miami-Dade Police Department
Major League Baseball has sued Tony Bosch over allegations he sold performance-enhancing drugs to ballplayers.

Fischer didn't respond. A surreal incident on February 19 convinced him that keeping a low profile was a wise move. He was driving home from the gym when he noticed a beige Honda turn onto his block. Warily, he drove past his house and parked at nearby Pinecrest Gardens. After waiting a few minutes, he pulled out — but the Honda was parked outside the lot.

Fischer sped out onto South Dixie Highway with the Honda in pursuit. Sweating, he called a friend named Pete Carbone. "What the hell do I do?" he yelled.

Carbone convinced Fischer to meet him at a nearby Winn-Dixie. They quickly traded cars. The Honda tailed Carbone in Fischer's car. A few minutes later, Carbone was boxed in between two other cars. He called the cops.

A report filed by Pinecrest police sheds little light on why the men were chasing Fischer. The three other drivers — Lewis Perry, Ernesto Sam, and Julio Moreiras — all worked for Precise Protective Research, a private eye firm based nearby on South Dixie Highway. They told police they were "working an investigation" when Carbone began threatening them. (Carbone claimed one man flashed a gun at him, according to the police report.) No charges were filed, and Carbone declined to talk to New Times.

"They were either working for Major League Baseball or A-Rod or another ballplayer involved," Fischer claims today, though he has no proof.

On February 25, Fischer finally decided to meet with two MLB investigators, both ex-NYPD cops.

They started with the carrots: They'd pay Fischer just to talk. If things worked out, maybe they could even move him to a gated community. And there would be justice for the cheaters.

Fischer replied, "I don't give a shit about you or your ballplayers. This is about self-preservation to me."

So the ex-cops switched tactics: If someone were to sue you, they warned, it could be expensive. MLB could indemnify him from damages. "I'm not worried about court," Fischer countered. "I'm worried about a bullet in my head."

A deal was hatched: If ten days went by and no newspaper or TV station reported Fischer's name, he'd meet them again. The MLB representatives agreed, on the condition that Fischer would send them a few pages of Bosch's files.

When there was no word in the media, they agreed to meet in a Coconut Creek parking lot. Fischer arrived to find the pair in a Chevy Tahoe with tinted windows. They rolled down the window and hailed him into the back seat. He slid in next to one investigator, while the other turned around with a grin and wordlessly handed Fischer an envelope. Inside was $5,000 cash.

"I'm thinking, Holy shit, this is exactly like the movies," Fischer says. "I considered not taking the money, but then I thought, Wait, I didn't do anything wrong here. Everyone else is getting paid — why shouldn't I?"

One investigator made a proposal: They'd give him another $10,000 to come in with all of his documents. Fischer laughed, "My safety is worth $15,000?"

The next meeting came March 11 at a small park wedged next to SW 72nd Avenue just south of the Deering Estate at Cutler.

This time, MLB top cop Dan Mullin himself showed up. He suggested a deal: Fischer would share everything in exchange for a $1,000-per-week salary for a year as a "consultant." He'd be on the hook to answer any questions about the records.

"I told him: 'No way. That's not enough to protect myself.' And he said, 'Porter, this stuff isn't worth a million bucks,'" Fischer says. "But I never said it was. I just wanted to know how I could feel safe cooperating with these guys."

Baseball was done with the carrots. On March 19, MLB attorney Steven Gonzalez texted Fischer. It was three days before baseball would file a lawsuit against Tony Bosch and other Biogenesis associates. Gonzalez, in text messages shared with New Times, warned Fischer about the suit and added, "I hope you take it as a sign of good faith that your name was not included. This does not preclude us from making a deal, but if you ignore a forthcoming subpoena, it will force us to compel the courts to produce the four notebooks from Miami New Times."

Then Gonzalez made an offer: "We can compensate you in the amount of $125,000 for all the records and your signature on an affidavit."

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Mr. Fischer should have sent his mom Ann Marie to collect his investment from the good doc.

Apparently, she's the one here with the full-sized nads.

Mommies rule.

Cheaters never prosper.


Spectacular reporting once again. Hopefully you all will be justly rewarded. 

With that said, I have a minor correction. The suspension to Cesar Carrillo does not set a new precedent for MLB suspensions, since he is a minor league player (not on the 40-man roster). Therefore, he is not covered by the MLBPA - arguably the strongest union in the nation. Concerning possible future suspensions, MLB must adhere to the procedures and penalties agreed upon in the collective bargaining agreement (CBA) and the joint drug agreement (JDA). 


At some point, you have to realize that Fischer stole items, sold them for profit and he thinks MLB is the bad guy? Obviously, the mirror doesn't work in his house. An attorney will have a field day with this thief.

A whistleblower is one thing, but when they steal property or documents, they too have broken the law and are no longer a credible witness.


@jbfire you fail to understand the nature of whistle-blowing.  It almost always involves stealing documents.  If not, how else do you prove the wrong-doing?


@TonyRageWell, actually Tony, I do understand the whistleblower act quite well.  In fact, Quinlan v. Curtis Wright Corp proved that an employee who purposely stole documents was not entitled to the whistleblower act.  The trial court correctly told the jury that plaintiff's act of taking the documents was not protected. How the employee came to have possession of, or access to, the document plays a large role in a whistleblower case. 

IF this was a true whistleblower case, Mr Fischer should have gone to a place of authority in the issue (health department, police, FDA, etc.).  Instead, he chose to sell the documents he stole to a newspaper.  That, is not a whistleblower!

chuck.strouse moderator editor

@premitive1 @jbfire Sorry it took me so long to get to this. No, we did not buy any documents. -- Chuck Strouse, editor-in-chief, New Times. 


@jbfire did he sell the New Times the documents? it is not reported

ceraunograph 1 Like

How about go after the real crook here, Bud Selig. His whole legacy is built on labor peace and expanded revenues. And how did he get it? He got labor peace by refusing to take a hard line on PED usage until he was called out by congress. And where did the massive revenue increase in the 90s come from? The fact that anybody and their grandpa started cranking 40 homers a year. The insane home run counts that broke record after record. And Bud Selig was the one cheering them on the whole time, actively promoting MLB as the McGuire & Sosa show. And then all of a sudden he's willing to use every slimy means he can just to cover his own ass. Between his terrible record of hypocrisy on PEDs, refusal to improve officiating, double wild-card nonsense, severe restrictions to the draft & int'l signings markets, propping up the failed ownership groups of the Mets and Marlins and now being subject to a major anti-trust lawsuit over his endless A's foot dragging, history is not going to be very kind to 'ole Bud. The sooner he gets shown the door, the better for the whole sport of baseball.


This guy sounds slimier than Bosch. They'll have no case after they interview these two clowns.

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