Jon Cooper, a legislator in New York's Suffolk County who wrote into law the nation's first ban on ephedra supplements, traded calls last month with some excited officials from Major League Baseball.

"We asked them if they would sign a letter of support for our law, and they were definitely interested," Cooper says. "It sounded like they may even send it along right away."

	A Broward County coroner blamed ephedra as a contributor in pitcher Steve Bechler's death.

That was three weeks ago. Cooper hasn't heard from MLB since.

When it comes to supplements, baseball has tried to say the right things, and then has done as little as possible. This attitude prevails even in the wake of the ephedra-related death of Orioles pitcher Steve Bechler.

Baseball types talk the talk -- saying they believe players should be "extremely cautious" taking supplements -- but they don't really walk the walk. They throw up their hands and blame the government, and the law that makes untested supplements available to anyone, of any age, for any use, over the counter. The attitude is typified by players association head Donald Fehr. "As a general rule, something is either safe enough to be sold, and adults have to make responsible decisions, or if it isn't the government ought to prohibit it," Fehr said earlier this month.

Not much they can do about that dadburn Congress and that no-good FDA. Except there is. Baseball and the other major sports leagues can use their celebrity and outsized political clout to change the law that's killing their athletes -- and everyday Americans.

So far, other than Fehr's recent tepid letter to Sen. Richard Durbin about ephedra and his warmed-over statement about andro in a Congressional hearing last year, none of the big four team sports or their players' unions has lobbied Congress to change the law that made ephedra pills like Bechler's so readily available: the 1994 Dietary Supplement Health and Education Act.

DSHEA, as the law is known, deregulated the supplement industry and allowed all sorts of untested, and in some cases dangerous, chemicals to be sold over the counter as herbal products.

Those chemicals, many of them banned by sports organizations like the International Olympic Committe, include pre-hormonal substances such as androstenedione and heart-racing stimulants like ephedra, which critics call a cheap form of speed. Until three years ago, the DSHEA even allowed sales of analogs of the deadly drug GHB, which nearly killed Phoenix Suns forward Tom Gugliotta in 1999.

As recent research on popular chromium supplements shows, the potential hazards from supplements won't end if ephedra is pulled from shelves. The industry's history is to replace one untested chemical with another, then let God and the litigators sort 'em out.

Nearly everyone in sports agrees they would have an easier time crafting and enforcing doping policies if DSHEA were amended so supplements weren't allowed on shelves until they've been proven safe and effective.

So you'd think sports mullahs would hammer on Congressional doors, or at least send out an army of Gucci Gulch power lobbyists. Yet they haven't.

It's surprising because, on issues it cares about, the sports biz lobbies hard. Baseball blanketed D.C. when legislators threatened to cut back the game's antitrust exemption, convincing reps in major- and minor-league cities to keep the law intact. When baseball's players union needed a PR boost during the '94 lockout, they sent star pitchers to the hill -- Capitol Hill. The NFL outright threatened the city of San Diego this year, saying January's Super Bowl would be its last without a new stadium for the Chargers.

On supplements, though, pro sports hasn't even made a pitch. Without such an effort, the supplement lobby rules, using its vast stores of money and contacts to change the hearts and minds of legislators. According to a recent story in the Capitol newspaper Roll Call, Metabolife, a company which makes ephedra products, has contributed $1.7 million to political parties. Roll Call also reported the industry has paid more than $1 million to retain lobbyists Jack Martin, a former aide to Sen. Orrin Hatch, and Scott Hatch, the senator's son. Orrin Hatch, perhaps not so coincidentally, was the legislative author of the DSHEA.

The supplement industry also works its magic on the press, paying for studies that favor its point of view, and planting one of their own at a press conference to challenge the coroner's findings in the Bechler case. Lobbyists also have been known to call the bosses of any reporters who don't toe the industry line.

But listen to its line. Ephedra supplements are perfectly safe, the industry says, with a few possible exceptions. Athletes. Children. People with heart disease. Or liver disease. Or high blood pressure. Or who have a family history of thyroid disease. Or diabetes. Or recurrent headaches. Or enlarged prostate. Or difficulty urinating. Or depression. Or any psychiatric condition.

Anyone else can take them, no problem. Just make sure to consult with your doctor, and don't exceed the recommended dosage. Or mix it with caffeine. Or cold pills. Or any other dietary supplement. Or any prescription drug. Or use it right before exercise. Or to get high. Or to reduce weight. Or for a medical purpose.

Except for those narrow exceptions, this stuff is part of healthful, natural, herbal lifestyle, and should be readily available at health-food stores and local grocers. That's what the makers have led Washington to believe, anyway.

The sports industry, if it really cares about its athletes, has to lobby back. Right now, one of the only people working the room on behalf of sports is Ralph Nader, with his group, League of Fans. Nader's League has called for a ban on ephedra and a total overhaul of the DSHEA. "Our citizens should never be used as guinea pigs for dietary supplements with no guarantee of product safety," Nader says. "How many more ephedra-related seizures, strokes, heart attacks and deaths have to occur before our leaders take action?"

Nader's group deserves more company. There are at least two sides to the supplement issue in sports. Unfortunately, in the corridors of Washington, only the supplement industry's side gets a regular airing.

Luke Cyphers is a senior editor for ESPN The Magazine