Joe Mauer hit another home run on Saturday. It’s his sixth home run since he joined the Twins on May 1, after spending April recovering from a back injury in extended spring training. In 14 games and (as of this writing) 52 at bats, this effectively puts him halfway to his career high of thirteen home runs. At this pace, he will have 72 at by October 1st.

I make no secret of the fact that I love the Minnesota Twins. As a fan, I want to puff out my chest and say “Yep, look at the Baby Jesus. He’s easily the best catcher since Johnny Bench. Maybe even since Mickey Cochrane. Maybe he’s even better than Josh Gibson. Maybe he’s the best catcher ever.”

But, for as much as I’d like to be, I’m not a blind baseball fan. I’m a guy who pays attention. I know about Manny Ramirez, Alex Rodriguez, Rafael Palmeiro, and Roger Clemons.

It is now impossible for me to watch anybody come out of the gates on fire and not wonder if they’re cheating. I can’t watch anybody in this game improve and not have the possibility of steroids cross my mind.

I want to be clear about this: I am not accusing Joe Mauer of cheating. I don’t think he’s taking steroids, human growth hormone, Popeye’s spinach, or that pill in Underdog’s ring. As far as I’m concerned he’s as clean as a baptismal font. But thanks to the state of the game, I can’t just sit back and appreciate this guy’s ability for what it is.

And, folks, you need to understand that I’m Pollyanna. I’m an incurable optimist who refused to believe there wasn’t a Santa Clause until I was 19. When I’m wondering about who might be cheating in my beautiful game, you know there are real problems.

There’s a picture you can very easily paint here. Mauer’s a good, potentially great, ballplayer who plays the most physically demanding position in the game. Catchers get the crap kicked out of them. They get hit with errantly swung bats. 90 mph pitches hit them in places no mortal man should have to endure. Their essential job is to stick their left hand out and get smacked in the palm by major league fastballs more than 100 times per day. All the while squatting and standing up 50-75 times. If the media found a prisoner at Guantanamo Bay had been playing catcher, they could make the case for torture.

And now you look at Mauer’s statistics. In what is basically just over four seasons, he has 675 hits, a .320 batting average, a .402 on base percentage, and an OPS of .868. He is the only American League catcher to win a batting title, and the only catcher ever to win two. He’s also a guy who has struggled with injuries to his knees and back, and has at times been called out by his teammates regarding his desire to play hurt.

So, put all of that together. Knowing that steroids and performance enhancing drugs continue to run rampant through baseball, how does Mauer’s instant success – after all of five warm-up games with the Twins Ft. Myers Single A team – coupled with his somewhat surprising surge in power not raise an eyebrow or two?

And that’s what sucks the most about this steroid scandal. I do not for one second think that Joe Mauer is perfect, but I also don’t think he’s cheating. However, because so many of his contemporaries have been exposed and alleged to be users of performance enhancing drugs, and because the leadership in baseball created an atmosphere that allowed this stuff to go on for more than a decade, I’ve wondered. And I don’t want to wonder. I just want to watch this and enjoy it.

I’ve written about this before. Major League Baseball needs a drug testing policy that is draconian. Everyone gets tested multiple times every year. One failed test leads to a 162 game suspension. Two failed tests gets you banned from baseball.

I’m tired of talking, writing and thinking about this. Frankly, you can’t read two pieces on this site before you find a rip of either Bud Selig, or the leadership of the MLBPA. Usually you find both. And more often than not, it’s because of the steroid issue. Nobody thinks this subject is a dead horse more than I do, but it needs to be beaten again.

Performance enhancing drugs are killing this game, and it’s time baseball pulled its collective head out of the sand and took the measures necessary so fans can cheer for their team without an asterisk in their applause.