Baseball was exposed Thursday, its dirt and deception piled at the feet of players, owners and a commissioner who profited at our expense.

They made fools of us all, counting our money while stealing what truly matters in sports: the belief in what we're seeing, the confidence it is real.

There aren't enough asterisks to go around now. This goes beyond Barry Bonds or anyone previously linked to performance-enhancing drugs.

Put an asterisk next to Bonds' record 762 home runs, and you'll need one for F.P. Santangelo's 21 career homers. He also was among the 85 current and former players named Thursday in the Mitchell Report, the result of a 20-month investigation into steroid use in baseball.

Santangelo was a big-league outfielder from 1995 to 2001, spending time with four teams in a career that defined "journeyman." His presence in the report provides insight into how deep the problem runs.

It has permeated every link on baseball's food chain, enabling some careers while sustaining others. In either case, corners have been cut, rules broken, trust violated.

Roger Clemens will be portrayed as Thursday's biggest loser, and indeed, with 354 wins and seven Cy Young Awards, he had the most to lose. His Hall of Fame bust was put on hold by nine pages of incriminating evidence.

Yet, it is difficult to call it losing when you've raked in millions for yourself and your owners.

Stealing?

Maybe.

But losing?

The motivation for all of this, from Clemens to Santangelo and everyone in between, was fame and fortune.

Clemens still has the latter, and he won't be giving any of it back. A hefty bank account may not repair a bruised ego and damaged reputation, but it has the power to soothe.

He and others in former Senate Majority Leader George Mitchell's report have been rewarded, albeit to varying degrees, for seeking and securing an artificial edge.

In the real world, we call that fraud. In baseball, we call it an era.

The hope is Thursday was a major step in moving forward to a time when superstars - or even journeymen - are products of God-given ability, hard work and mental toughness.

The game survived that way for decades, before there was a link between swings and syringes. That Commissioner Bud Selig ordered an investigation - finally - actually may lead to change.

He vowed to take action in light of Mitchell's findings, and there is hope that means more extensive and independent testing. Without it, this has all been a high-priced charade.

While we cannot undo the deception of the past decade (or more), Selig, et al, can make it more difficult to deceive. Any significant change would require cooperation from the players union, and that, more than anything, may keep it from happening.

Players refused to cooperate with the Mitchell investigation, and the union has consistently opposed the extent and nature of testing common in other sports. If nothing else, perhaps Thursday's high-profile black eye will create pressure to negotiate.

The key to any cleanup, in baseball or elsewhere, is identifying and understanding the scope of the mess. Thursday provided a pretty clear picture, linking All-Stars, utility men and long relievers to the same murky ground.

No one can walk away from this without leaving tracks, be it players, owners or Selig. Faith has been dragged through the mud, and we need to know it will be restored.

Only then can we believe what we see.

Randy Kindred is a Pantagraph columnist. To leave him a voice mail, call 820-3402. By e-mail: rkindred@pantagraph.com. The Randy Kindred Blog is at www.pantagraph.com/blogs.

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Mitchell Report links

• Clemens, Bonds, Tejada named in Mitchell Report

• Full report (PDF)

• List of players named

• Kindred: There are not enough asterisks to go around

• Former ISU pitcher Herges named in report

• Congressmen want new hearing; one calls on Selig to quit

• Mitchell Report spurs outrage, sadness and calls for reform

• Canseco barred from attending Mitchell news conference

• Pantagraph's MLB page