My e-mail inbox went scrolling like a slot machine last week when I suggested that steroid-taking baseball players could learn a few things from pro wrestling, where the stars die young. Many of you argued that blaming steroids for the recent death of 39-year-old Davey Boy Smith was like blaming a Pinto for causing a drunk driving fatality -- it may have been a factor, but it wasn't the most direct one.

A small number of the e-mails shared the tone of the one written by Steve Sturgill, who opened with: "Cripes, not another whiney-ass, ectomorphic, mentally-deficient, pencil-necked bleep churning out more rubbish. Either join a local gym, discover how grueling training really is, and make a MAN out of yourself, or go home and cry to your mommy because your boyfriend broke up with you." Wow, Steve. Good thing there really isn't such a thing as 'roid rage.

	Can they be used safely?

The majority, however, were well-reasoned enough to make me wonder if I'd done enough homework.

Phil Hopkins Jr., a pharmacy school student, mused: "It is true that the wrestlers who died used testosterone. But did they use it responsibly? And what else did they use along with it? Did they also take, say, a large amount of pain killers, like Lortab, which incidentally poses a far greater threat to your kidneys from long-term use due to 500-650 mg of Tylenol per pill?"

Tony, an English engineer living in Taiwan, pointed out that wrestlers like Smith "are developing symptoms from [drugs] that no longer exist. Modern sportsmen have access to knowledgeable physicians, second-generation steroids and other anabolic drugs, medication to control side effects and more advanced monitoring technology. As long as they avail themselves of these things" steroids will be perfectly safe.

Still, I have trouble getting my brain around the concept of "safe" steroids. The specter of swollen heads and shriveled nuts has kept armies of guys from going to the needle. What happens if their sense of foreboding gets taken away? Tony came to the same conclusion I did. "The lure of money will usually override common sense," he wrote.

No sooner had I read that than an email popped into my inbox from Mauro Di Pasquale. I'd tried to find Di Pasquale last week, without success. Vince McMahon used him to clean up the WWF in the early '90s. Occasionally called "The Steroid Hunter," he created what McMahon later called an Olympic-quality testing program and ran it until he left the company in 1997.

Di Pasquale was angry with me for using the example of Davey Boy to damn all steroid use. "What trash," he started. "I knew Davey Boy Smith and he led a ridiculously hectic lifestyle in which he ate poorly (fast foods, restaurants, and junk food) most of the time. Never mind that genetically some of these guys are doomed to die young. Steroids can have serious adverse effects, [but they tend to affect] those who are predisposed genetically."

Di Pasquale wanted me to check out his web site at MetabolicDiet.com, to see where his research on "natural alternatives" has led him. And he wasn't the only one pushing his research. Dr. W. Letchamo of Rutgers University wrote "your article looks biased" in the subject line of his email. Then he had the gall to ask me to help "make arrangements" with readers who might want the "natural sports supplements" he had developed after travelling through Ethiopia. He wrote on a Rutgers email account, making me wonder if the school knows how he's using its facilities.

Robert Draper, a 30-year-old systems analyst from San Diego, asked for help deciding which guru to believe. "I've recently started working out at the gym everyday and see these guys walking around with the look I want BAD. Today I came across [a web site] that has me believing I can do this safely with no problems. I'm so close to doing it. I tell myself, 'Hell I'm no Ken Caminiti, No Hulk Hogan.' I just want one or two cycles and I'll be okay. Can you shed any light on this guy's claims?"

I looked at the site. "The real truth is that the pros being used to promote supplement companies products today are insane juicers," wrote its author, who said he was a contributor to an "underground" magazine called The Anabolic Insider. "Sane use is a few hundred milligrams of Deca a week, a touch of Anavar, maybe a cc or two of "test" every 10-14 days. Insane steroid use is a few thousand milligrams of Deca a day, a ton of Anavar, and 10 cc's of 'test' a day. Yes, a DAY!"

I clicked off, feeling overwhelmed but a little bit curious at the same time.

Jeff Wilmoth, an Ohio technology analyst, seemed especially eager to convince me that the people who do this stuff aren't creepy.

"Not every user is the huge acne infested freak at your local gym," he said. "You'd be surprised at who your average steroid user is. He's that guy next door who has a wife, a few kids, and is taking medication to take his body beyond his genetic limitations. I'm ashamed to live in a society where men and women can have fat sucked out of their ass and injected into their lips, but when they inject a medicine that is perfectly legal in many countries, they're just considered villains."

Another reader added: "Steroid users want the same rights to do things to their bodies that millions and millions of other Americans have: The right to augment their bodies."

Maybe. But the purpose of strength training is to avoid injury. Dopers who get too big for their frames contravene that purpose by increasing it. I asked a close friend who trains famous boxers and dancers if there was ever a circumstance where he could imagine recommending steroids. Flat-out, he said no.

Still, what struck me from the volume of mail was how rampant 'roid use is today, and how loyal (or is it addicted?) its users are. Maybe my critics are right. Maybe I'm hopelessly behind the curve. At least, I was beginning to come around to that view when I got to this missive from Dana Johnson:

"If a guy who can make $20 million per year wants to use steroids, and his dosages and necessary medical monitoring is okay with a physician, who cares?" he asked. "If the public doesn't like it, let 'em stop living vicariously through these guys."

That made me remember why the whole thing made me queasy in the first place. When we become that blasé about doping, we lose our capacity to get angry about cheating. Sorry folks. No matter how "safe" steroids get, it's just not worth it.

Shaun Assael a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine, is the co-author of Sex, Lies & Headlocks, a biography of Vince McMahon to be published by Crown next month. E-mail him at shaun.assael@espnmag.com.