By Terrence McCoy
By Allie Conti
By Chuck Strouse
By Scott Fishman
By Terrence McCoy
By Ryan Yousefi
By Ciara LaVelle, Kat Bein, Carolina Del Busto, and Liz Tracy
By Pepe Billete
The headlines landed last Monday from Boston to Copenhagen to New York to London. Thirteen Major League Baseball players had been suspended, including the Yankees' Alex Rodriguez, who was hit with a massive 211-game beatdown. It had all started with a January Miami New Times investigation into a tiny Coral Gables anti-aging clinic called Biogenesis.
Earth-shaking as the result was, though, it ain't over. Steroid-slinger Tony Bosch hasn't gotten his due. The faux doctor who ran Coral Gables' Biogenesis clinic had a client list that included more than a dozen young athletes from high schools, including Davie's University School.
Bosch has yet to face any criminal charges. In fact, a report obtained by New Times shows that he's twice dodged blowback from the state over his illegal drug operation — first in 2011, when a Florida Department of Health investigator cleared a complaint without even interviewing him and again this year, when the DOH hit him with a laughable $5,000 fine.
Meanwhile, MLB officials — with the aid of Miami-Dade County Judge Ronald Dresnick — are aggressively pursuing Biogenesis whistleblower Porter Fischer, demanding every document in his possession on the clinic and all his email correspondence with a New Times reporter.
There's no question that baseball has sent a strong message to its players and the public with the Biogenesis suspensions, but the owners shouldn't stop there. Despite record profits thanks to taxpayer-busting stadium deals like Miami's own Marlins Park abomination, they must change the way their sport is run.
"BALCO and Biogenesis will serve as bookends to the era of the steroid scandal," says Adrian Burgos, a University of Illinois history professor and author of Playing America's Game, which describes the role of race in baseball. "Biogenesis is certainly the scandal of [our era]. Yet Charles Comiskey has less blame on his hands with the Black Sox scandal... than what's happened today with owners of MLB teams profiting so much from public dole into private pockets during this era."
Bosch's blowup traces to last October, when Fischer, a 48-year-old investor and marketing manager at Biogenesis, stormed out with boxes of records after a dispute over $4,000. Fischer later shared some of those documents with New Times. They showed that Bosch, who didn't have a Florida medical license, wasn't just slinging 'roids, testosterone, and HGH to bodybuilders like Fischer. He was also selling drugs to MLB stars like Rodriguez, Texas Rangers slugger Nelson Cruz, and former All Star MVP Melky Cabrera.
Days after the New Times story on the clinic landed this past January 31, MLB sent a team of investigators to South Florida to start building a case against Bosch and his clients. In June, faced with devastating financial pressure of an MLB civil suit, Bosch agreed to help Commissioner Bud Selig's team go after his former clients.
The results were stunning. The first domino to fall was Ryan Braun, the National League's 2011 MVP and a former star at the University of Miami. Braun, who'd dodged a failed drug test two years ago thanks to a technicality, took a 65-game suspension on July 22 rather than face Bosch's evidence before an arbitrator.
On August 5, 12 more big leaguers accepted similar deals, including the Rangers' Cruz, Philadelphia Phillies lockdown closer Antonio Bastardo, and promising young sluggers Everth Cabrera of the Seattle Mariners and Jordany Valdespin of the New York Mets. In all, 17 major and minor leaguers have now been suspended in the scandal — the single biggest drug-related suspension in American sports history. (Of course, the biggest target of all, A-Rod, refused to accept his suspension, formally appealing it three days after his penalty was announced on the grounds that it violates the players union's agreement with MLB.)
When BALCO rocked the sport nearly a decade ago, Selig was savaged by Congress over his lackadaisical reaction. This time around, the commissioner hailed the unprecedented penalties as "enormous progress" in the fight against PEDs. And it's true. Baseball's top dogs invested serious time and money to force Bosch's clients to face the music. "Compared to BALCO, the commissioners office had a completely opposite reaction this time around," Burgos says.
Yet, gratifying as it has been for fans to watch Biogenesis' massive fallout for the games' cheaters, the story has raised other troubling questions.
One is how Bosch got away with selling illegal drugs in plain sight for so long, even though his only degree came from a university in Belize that is not certified in the United States. Bosch and his father, Dr. Pedro Bosch, had been tied to PED sales in 2009, when Los Angeles Dodgers star Manny Ramirez was suspended after a failed drug test. (No charges were ever filed against either Bosch in that case.)
Even more troubling, a 2011 Florida DOH report shows serious lapses in judgment and procedure. Following an anonymous tip that Bosch was practicing medicine without a license while working with a business called BioKem (which operated in the same location where he'd later run Biogenesis), DOH opened a formal investigation.
Yet an investigator closed the case after four months, in October 2011, without once talking to Tony Bosch. Instead, the DOH interviewed his business partner, Carlos Acevedo, who promised that Bosch only ran a "marketing business."