{image1} All summer long, sports fans have been waiting and wondering whether Major League Baseball's new "tougher" steroid testing policy would catch any "big fish."

After all, if we think the steroid monsters are lurking out there somewhere, then by golly, we better bring a big boat.

On Monday, it was "fish on!"

Rafael Palmeiro - the poster child of public defiance in the entire steroid scandal - had been gaffe-hooked right in the crook of his lie-telling lips, and hauled up into the S.S. Allan H. Selig.

Looks like the steroid "thing" isn't going away anytime soon, and the fishin' might be about to pick up.

Until they bagged Palmeiro, it's been like sitting around rigged for blue marlin, but with only a small bucket of smelt to show for it. We're talking a dog's breakfast of minor leaguers and platoon-hitting Latin Americans who claim to "no speakie Englie" when it comes to medical warning labels.

I'd happily give you the names of the players who have been caught nandralone-handed pre-Raffy, but they are so inconsequential and forgettable, that I don't even care to spend the 30 minutes researching it here. (Ah yes, the lazy days of summer ...)

OK. Juan Rincon. Pitcher for the Twins. Told you I could remember at least one.

The bigger point here is that if Palmeiro was bold enough to wag his finger at Congress on national TV, then he must be incredibly stupid to still be on the juice.

Or addicted. Or in denial. Or, or ... well, maybe he rubbed up against Gary Sheffield by mistake and got some of that magic "healing cream" on his leg.

Hell, it's about as good an explanation as anything Palmeiro trotted out during his scripted "apologetic non-apology" Monday. With his rambling, run-on-sentence of a statement, Palmeiro tiptoed up to the crux of the matter - i.e. how did this happen - and just shrugged his shoulders and said: "beats me!"

(Note: I want to start reading all of my "apologies" for future husbandly misdeeds - like playing an extra 18 holes and coming home smelling like stripper shampoo - from a neatly typed statement. I will grant my wife no follow up questions and hide behind "possible future civil litigation" and the advice of my attorneys.)

Personally, I never bought Raffy's Capital Hill "stare down" with the committee on steroids. Sure his denial was vehement, but it was also very one-dimensional. I could never get out of my mind the visual of him sitting calmly waiting to speak, and then once his turn came, pulling out that right index finger of "how dare you" like it was a gun. To some he looked convincing. To me he looked panicked and over the top.

Seemed to me that a truly innocent man would have calmly dismantled any allegations with facts and reason. Raffy tried to do so with a furrowed brow and a quick draw digit.

Perhaps the two happiest men right now are Jose Canseco and Mark McGwire. Canseco is becoming more right by the suspension, and McGwire at least showed the decency not to perjure himself before Congress.

This time before an arbitrator behind closed doors, Palmeiro claims that his testimony was found to be "compelling" yet not enough to reverse a recommendation for suspension.

Palmeiro was also deemed to be "handsome" and "one fabulous hitter" - alas neither finding was able to overcome the simple fact that he had been caught cheating.

(Sidebar, please, your honor. Thank you. Question: what exactly, will this suspension do to Palmeiro's lucrative boner-pill endorsement money? I mean it could go either way. On the one hand, they make Viagra for the express purpose of "performance enhancement." Makes Raffy look more guilty than ever. On the other hand, he could simply "turn heel" in marketing terms, and start filming ads that say: "They may have caught me on the baseball diamond, but I've never seen Bud Selig in bed with my wife! Come get some of this Viagra, yeaaaaahhh! (apply Randy Macho Man Savage accent to desired thickness)."

When it comes to timing, this suspension could hardly be worse for Raffy. His Hall of Fame credentials were already being debated by some in the media once he reached hit #3,000. His longevity and consistency had produced a mountain of beautiful numbers, but should that be enough in the new millennium?

A man who once shared company with Aaron, Mays, and Murray, now lies down in bed with Canseco, Caminiti, Sheffield and Giambi.

No less than a few hours after the bombshell suspension was announced, I heard sports radio update anchors actually script their leads with "Rafael Palmeiro's Hall of Fame credentials took a major blow today ..."

To which I immediately thought: "Man, we're five years away from even having this discussion at the earliest! He's not even done playing yet!"

But those anchors were right to spin it that way, and the damage had already been done. It reminds me of the episode in the Simpsons where Monty Burns was running for office. The bullying owner of the nuclear power plant had deftly maneuvered his way to the doorstep of electability, only to stumble when spitting out a contaminated piece of three-eyed fish in front of a carefully staged family dinner photo-op.

As the fish went splat in cartoonish slow motion, Burns' campaign manager remarked that "he knew it was over before the fish hit the ground."

And so too it goes for Raffy. The Hall of Fame was over before his lawyers even finished their first draft of that "apology." Cooperstown is for celebrating great players, and nobody wants to celebrate a liar, a hypocrite, and a cheat.

Sadly, on Monday a seemingly "good guy" in baseball, was confirmed as all three.