The release of Jose Canseco's steroid expose, "Juiced," has brought the steroid problem in Major League Baseball to boil again. The problem that MLB faces is not the tarnished images of the named players, but the perceived indifference of the league's best hitters. Nobody seems to be interested in turning the heat down.

Reactions to "Juiced" among most of the named players, specifically Mark McGwire and Rafael Palmeiro, have been anger and denial of Canseco's allegations of steroid use. Palmeiro even went so far as to threaten a lawsuit against Canseco.

While Canseco's claims may seem ridiculous, jumps in power numbers and injuries among several of the named players seem to line up with the time in which they came into contact with Canseco. McGwire, Palmeiro, Ivan Rodriguez, Juan Gonzalez and Jason Giambi all put on their best displays of power hitting after playing with Canseco. Coincidentally, Canseco claims to have personally injected, given instruction to or seen each of those players use anabolic steroids on multiple occassions.

The player on the forefront of the issue, Barry Bonds, is showing no interest in dealing with the issue. When Bonds announced a press conference, given on Tuesday last week, many expected, or hoped for, a vague, tearful, heartfelt apology, like the one delivered by Giambi earlier in the year.

But no such conference occurred.

Instead, Bonds accused the reporters present of asking the same questions, and equated their steroid questions to a television show.

"You guys are like rerun stories," Bonds told those gathered for his conference. "It's like watching 'Sanford and Son'…rerun after rerun after rerun."

Maybe to Barry, we baseball fans are boring. All that seems to matter to Bonds is Bonds.

Let's remember that Bonds has claimed that he is the greatest player in the history of the game; much better than Babe Ruth. He stopped his press conference to answer his cell phone. His moderator shielded the left fielder from steroid, grand jury and BALCO questions. He told a reporter, who was quoting Bonds' trainer's own press release, that "Stan Conte did not say that, that's a lie…"

Then Bonds told us that we scrutinize him because he's African-American.

"…Babe Ruth ain't black, either. I'm black. Blacks, we go through a little bit more," he said.

What Bonds said is likely true; black athletes probably do go through "a little bit more." But the fact remains that baseball fans hate Shoeless Joe Jackson, Pete Rose and Canseco because they cheated. The same questions come into play here, above all else.

Did Bonds cheat? Does Bonds still cheat?

Bonds is poised to break what is perhaps the most sacred record in baseball: Hank Aaron's 755 career home runs.

Fans wanted an asterisk placed next to Roger Maris' single season record of 61 round-trippers because he surpassed Ruth over the course of a longer season.

That mentality of fairness calls into question what to do with Bonds.

Should we respect his home run total? Do we throw his whole career away and label him an embarrassment to baseball, like Jackson and Rose?

Leaks of grand jury testimony in the BALCO case (read: circus) have already made Giambi to be a user of the "Cream" and "Clear" products offered by BALCO. Allegedly, Bonds admitted to using the same products, but in a very Barry way; he claims to not have known the illegality of the substances when he was using them.

The "Cream" is a steroid cream that is rubbed onto muscles, and the "clear" is a form of human growth hormone.

Of course, we're never going to know for sure if Bonds is a "knowing" cheater. It would be quite a blow to his own ego if Bonds were to let it slip from his mouth to us, the loathsome fans, that he used steroids.

When asked about his knee injuries, his amazing, late career growth and continued power production, Bonds explained it away, saying, "Hard work, that's about it."

Bonds probably won't answer our questions, but MLB might, starting today.

MLB announced that a new testing policy, which suspends players for 10 days for a first offense, 30 days for a second offense, 60 days for a third offense and a full year for a fourth offense.

Bonds' performance in 2005 will answer our questions: a continued high level of play, and no positive tests, will show us that Bonds might be playing fair.

On the contrary, a drop-off in power or one positive test will show us what most suspect: Bonds is a cheater.

Maybe, with the help of a flawless season from Bonds, we can finally start turning the heat down on the steroid stew of controversy.