Barry Bonds testified he thought he used flaxseed oil, not steroids. He passed it off as an honest mistake, presumably with a straight face.

We didn't buy it.

My father, in his 90s and months before he died, spread Lamisil on his dentures one afternoon, believing it was denture cream. That's an honest mistake.

There was nothing honest about Mark McGwire refusing to talk about the past, or Sammy Sosa's sudden inability to speak English at the same 2005 Congressional hearing, or Rafael Palmeiro waving his finger and proclaiming he "never!" used performance enhancers, only to be caught red-handed a short time later.

Jose Canseco, the poster boy for sleaze, admitted in his book "Juiced!" he used steroids. He named names, putting heat on others to come clean.

They did the opposite, choosing to dance around the issue and/or deny, deny, deny. While federal law mandated "the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth," we couldn't get a half-truth.

Now, finally, someone has come forward, perhaps not all the way, but enough to call it progress. Jason Giambi told the USA Today last week "I was wrong for doing that stuff" in an interview regarding steroids in baseball.

"What we should have done a long time ago was stand up - players, ownership, everybody - and said: 'We made a mistake,' " Giambi said.

"We should have apologized back then and made sure we had a rule in place and gone forward. … Steroids and all of that was a part of history. But it was a topic that everybody wanted to avoid. Nobody wanted to talk about it."

Consider it the closest to an admission since Canseco, and the first from a current player. Giambi may not have said, "I used steroids," but said enough to make his team, and baseball's hierarchy, sweat bullets.

Good for him.

Granted, Giambi is no hero. Nor is he a boy scout. He deserves whatever punishment comes his way, particularly if it is learned he used performance enhancers after baseball instituted a ban in 2002.

Still, he has hit a nerve in the commissioner's office and the New York Yankees' executive suite. By saying "players, ownership, everybody" owed fans an apology, he implicated the higher-ups who looked the other way.

Home runs were flying and profits soaring. If it wasn't completely natural … well, at least the bottom line was healthy.

The Yankees have denied knowledge of Giambi, or anyone in pinstripes, doing steroids under their watch. The commissioner's office has expressed concern over Giambi's statements, and would like a meeting with him to investigate.

There is a palpable "don't look at us" aspect to their reactions, when in fact they deserve scrutiny as much as Giambi.

If, as they insist, all of this went on without their knowing, a lot of heads were in the sand. More likely, they were turned toward television ratings and dollar signs.

The Yankees would love to stop paying Giambi, who is in the midst of a huge contract signed in 2001. Reportedly, they will revisit the possibility of voiding his deal.

This much is certain. If they hope to wash their hands of the situation, they better bring lots of soap and water, what with the soiled money baseball has raked in over the past decade.

In college sports, if a player, coach or both violate NCAA rules, the school and its athletic administration are held accountable. They are said to have lacked "institutional control."

The same should apply to baseball's owners and executives. Policing their game comes with the territory, and pleading ignorance is no excuse/escape.

Blame Giambi for using "that stuff." Boo him if you like. Just be grateful he has come clean (at least closer), and drawn attention to baseball's brass.

There is dirt there, too.

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/blog