First of a two-part series on the impact steroids can have -- directly or indirectly -- on those whose paths they cross.
Last October, while the Red Sox were celebrating their first championship in 86 years, a former batboy of theirs was alone, slicing his flesh with a knife. "It's disgusting to me, it's nasty." said Carlos Cowart, 25, who worked for the Sox from 1996-2000. "No one knows I do it. I don't know why I do it. But after I do it, I feel relieved."
Cowart is haunted by demons that he says stem from an incident June 30, 2000, when police discovered steroids and syringes in the glove compartment of the Mercedes-Benz that had been loaned to him by Manny Alexander, then a utility infielder with the Sox.
Cowart was driving
Cowart was arrested after a computer check revealed that the Dorchester High School student was driving without a license and was wanted on a previous charge of driving without a license and failing to stop for police. The steroids were discovered in a routine search of the impounded car.
State Police initially sought criminal complaints against Alexander, who was with the Red Sox in Chicago at the time of Cowart's arrest, but a Dorchester clerk-magistrate ruled there was not probable cause for misdemeanor charges of steroid possession because of insufficient evidence. Alexander's lawyer argued that at least five people had access to the car.
But the incident unleashed a series of events that continue to plague Cowart.
At first, the batboy said, the Red Sox and Major League Baseball detectives told him not to worry about it, that he would not be to blame. But when newspapers first wrote about the incident late in July, it was reported that Cowart had a "three-page" arrest report, including marijuana and cocaine possession. Unreported was the fact that he had no convictions and no record.
"It was a Saturday morning," said Cowart. "I was about to go to work and my friend calls me and tells me this is in the paper. That instant everything came down. Reporters knocking on my door. Reporters seeing old friends I hadn't seen in five years. It all came down on me. Every time I turned on the radio and got a newspaper, my name was being run through the dirt."
Some of Alexander's very famous friends rushed to his defense. Chicago Cubs slugger Sammy Sosa told Chicago reporters, "The person he gave the car to . . . has a negative record."
Cowart refused to talk to the media. But he listened to sports talk radio and heard the cruel comments. He didn't have a number on the back of his Red Sox uniform, but he felt as if he had a bounty on his head.