Sport in 2005 was pretty much like every other year:

There were wins and losses, failures and redemptions, heroes and weasels, comings and goings, and random acts of generosity and sportsmanship undercut and then overshadowed by selfishness and petty jealousies.

What made 2005 different was the nagging feeling that, in a few high-profile instances, a drug screen, a Wonderlic test or even Judge Judy could have cleared up the confusion about which was which.

Baseball finally swore off the juice, thanks to tough love administered by Congress. But not before Jose Canseco became a best-selling author; Barry Bonds docked in the safe harbor of the disabled list; Mark McGwire testified like some fidgety Mafia don; Rafael Palmeiro fibbed like one, and a tough-talking baseball lifer took a swing at the question still on everyone's mind:

"Where do you go back, stop and say, 'OK, when did he start using steroids?' " said Frank Robinson, a Hall of Fame player now managing the Washington Nationals. "To eliminate all that, and get the players' attention, you wipe the whole thing out."

Like that's going to happen.

Win or loss?

Lance Armstrong rolled to a seventh straight Tour de France title, then scolded cynics, saying, "I'm sorry for you." Armstrong wound up pedaling even faster afterward, trying to keep a French newspaper's doping allegations from overtaking him.

Redemption or failure?

Everybody wondered, too, what T.O. was ingesting to make him ornery all over again. Turns out it was nothing more than bad advice furnished by his agent, Drew Rosenhaus.

Despite signing a seven-year contract in 2004, Owens lobbied defiantly at every turn for more money and even more attention. In the Eagles locker room, he became the envy of every player who resented how management played hardball at contract time with everyone but Donovan McNabb. To the rest of us, he was the same old backstabbing, blabbermouthing, franchise-killing, me-first T.O.

Hero or weasel?

Baseball held its breath waiting for the first player to fail a steroid test. Not long after being busted, Alex "Who, Me?" Sanchez was claimed off waivers by the San Francisco Giants, then given a ringing endorsement from new manager Felipe Alou: "It's not like he murdered somebody or stole Mona Lisa."

No. And thankfully, not every achievement required a debate to appreciate.