Odesnik plea a dark cloud on tennis

KEY BISCAYNE, Fla. -- It looks like the posse finally caught up with the outlaw, only it was the wrong posse -- a development is bound to lead to endless investigations, discussion and controversy. That, too, is ironic, given how clear-cut the case was against tennis drug policy violator Wayne Odesnik.

It was Australian customs officials -- the same guys who nab chain smokers trying to bring in an extra carton, or boozers going one fifth over the line -- who found eight vials of HGH (human growth hormone) in Odesnik's possession when he entered Australia at the beginning of this year.

HGH is a banned substance used clandestinely (and how widely is a matter of wildly fluctuating speculation) by athletes seeking an illicit edge. Few doping cases in tennis (ref. -- Richard Gasquet) are as clear cut as this one. In fact, Odesnik pleaded guilty, will pay a (relatively minor) fine of $7,000 and will probably be forbidden to swing a racket for two years -- a fairly light sentence, it seems to me, given the brazen nature of Odesnik's actions.

But it will be the entire sport of tennis that goes on trial, because the first question that comes to mind when it comes to this case is, "Where was tennis's vaunted drug-testing program?" Were it not for a (presumably) regular customs agent stumbling across the HGH while sifting through a bunch of jock straps and liniments, Odesnik is unlikely to have been caught.

So, how many other guys are toting around more well-concealed vials of HGH, of the strain that can't be detected through the World Anti-Doping Agency's testing regimen (which is the one used by the ATP and WTA, in accordance with International Olympic Committee regulations)?

Granted, there's a chance that customs had some particular, calculated reason to give Odesnik a special onceover. And it's an uncomfortable fact that the guy is coached by Guillermo Canas, himself a former anti-doping violator (he served about 15 months, four years ago) who coincidentally announced his retirement from tennis on Friday. Canas took a "seen no evil" tack, noting that he did not travel, as some coaches do, with his protégé.

But those eight vials of HGH sure did.

So the real questions in my mind are: Was the Aussie customs agency tipped off? Was this some kind of sting operation, and if so, who was behind it and why was this approach chosen? How often was Odesnik tested in, say, the past 12 months, and what were the results? And lastly, what are the chances that Odesnik will tell all he knows about the shadowy world of HGH abuse (assuming he knows at least a little bit), and what kind of pressure can the ATP or ITF bring to bear on him to convince him to cooperate?

Many other people are thinking these same things, so you can expect the investigations and media attention paid to this case to ramp up. That means an astonishingly high degree of scrutiny on the drug-testing regimen and protocols. Given the formidable obstacles facing any anti-doping effort (in any sport), the only thing that nobody is likely to say is what most people would have said a few days ago, before the Odesnik case made the news: The drug-testing apparatus and methodology in tennis is pretty darned good; it's unlikely that drug cheats can go undetected, at least not for long.

We can take cold comfort in the fact that the posse finally did catch up with Odesnik, and it's bound to create more skepticism about tennis's drug policy than if Odesnik, like Canas, had been caught the old-fashioned way.
Source: ESPN