For players, this penalty is the worst

George Mitchell is an honorable man.

Of that, there should be no doubt.

Anyone who serves the public, and the peace process, as he has throughout his life, should not have to defend his character.

However, comma, the Mitchell Report, in the end, has done more harm than good, and as we wondered throughout the process, what was the point?

To declare steroid use was rampant? To suggest baseball needs independent testing? To believe Roger Clemens is probably guilty of enhancing his performance?

Mitchell left out the sun will rise in the east and set in the west.

News at eleven.

Perhaps in order to justify the extraordinary expense of the investigation, during which Mitchell's law firm earned millions, many were thrown under the team bus, without due process, presumably in an attempt to make the report juicier and somehow relevant.

That endeavor failed.

In the process, people like David Justice, Wally Joyner, Matt Franco and Brian Roberts have been painted, in horrific public perception, with the same broad brush as Clemens, Jose Canseco, Sammy Sosa, Mark McGwire, Barry Bonds and Rafael Palmeiro.

So it was odd to hear Mitchell say, "I suggest the commissioner forgo disciplinary action.''

With all due respect to the senator, it appears disingenuous.

After all, if he did not intend to punish, then why did he name names?

To say he doesn't want to see players penalized, well, my goodness, there's no greater punishment a man can suffer than to be embarrassed before the entire world.

In front of his wife and children, his parents and fans.

They have been punished, severely punished, whether guilty or not, worse than one can imagine.

And it will never go away.

The stink is on them, and it can't be washed off.

Speak to those who have been through something similar, or who are going through it now, and what you learn is that it's not the suspension that hurts the most.

It's not the lost wages.

It's not having records erased or medals extracted.

It's not the pressure of having to compete with those cheating.

It's not the guilt they felt being disabled, or the pressure to get back sooner while others seemed to rehab more quickly.

It's not even being released, cut, or ignored.

It's the shame.

It's by far the worst part.

We can argue about the degree, about whether a guy who tried steroids once or twice coming off an injury, should be in the same category as someone using it hundreds or thousands of times, year after year, adding huge amounts of muscle and mass in order to produce 66 or 70 homers, or 4,000 strikeouts.

But this report lumps all the accused together, always to be known historically as cheaters.

Including those who perhaps did nothing.

They are permanently disgraced, so for Mitchell to hope aloud that the commissioner drops the matter where it is, to waive penalty against those in bold face, is to pretend that they are not already serving time in a prison of ignominy.

It carries with it painfully sleepless nights, a ferocious lack of appetite, and the gut-wrenching inability to look their child in the eye.

It means ridicule at school for sons and daughters, and whispers in the vegetable aisle for wives and mothers.

It carries a life sentence with a scarlet letter, and baseball better hope every name in that report deserved to be there.

But we fear in some cases, as Clint Eastwood once said, that deserve's got nothin' to do with it.