The question serious baseball fans are beginning to ask is this: If Barry Bonds is found guilty of perjury and obstructing justice, what should baseball do with his records?

The answers aren't as clear as the ones surrounding Olympic star Marion Jones, who recently confessed to using performance-enhancing drugs. In addition to serving jail time, she had to give up her medals.

But to simply erase Bonds' home run records? Well, you can't really do that without a serious discussion about the records set by Mark McGwire, a previous record-holder who also most likely was aided by enhancements. You can't really approach the subject without wondering how many other batters used such drugs and, more to the point, how many pitchers did, as well. If a steroid-induced batter hits home runs off a steroid-induced pitcher, is that on the same level as if both were clean?

The simple truth is that baseball has a mess on its hands, and it is a mess largely of its own making, with help from a reluctant players' union. Major league owners recently announced record profits, topping $6 billion for the first time. Much of that money was made off Bonds and others who were growing like "The Incredible Hulk" while, for many years, baseball's executives willingly looked in the other direction.

Bonds is, of course, innocent until proven otherwise. But after four years of investigations, federal prosecutors decided to go after him the way they did Martha Stewart, I. Lewis "Scooter" Libby and rapper Lil' Kim — by showing he had lied to investigators. The act of taking performance-enhancing substances will be secondary in this trial. But if he is found to have lied, Bonds could face up to 30 years in prison.

And everyone will know that the real crime behind all this was what he allegedly did to his body.

Steroid abuse is a huge problem among America's young athletes. Even in Utah, high school students have been known to use them, putting themselves in danger of heart damage, liver disease, cancer, strokes and other ills.

But it's a problem for another reason, too. A record for home runs, touchdowns or the 100-meter dash doesn't matter as much as the virtues that bring a person to those marks — virtues that anyone can use in a variety of life's pursuits.

For the good of much more than the game, baseball needs to begin putting those considerations ahead of profit. It may even end up being good for business.