How America is battling the drug cheats
On the walls of Victor Conte's conference room at the infamous Balco laboratory in San Francisco hangs a United States flag signed by men and women who were once the greatest athletes in the world.
The flag dates from the Sydney Olympics of 2000, when America's view of drug cheats was a lot different to now.
At that Olympics, Marion Jones's then husband, CJ Hunter, was shown to have failed a drugs test.
The revelation triggered rumours he was not alone, that there were, it was alleged, many more drug cheats in the American team.
US officials angrily rebutted such talk, claiming its athletes were clean.
Now many of the signatories on that flag, including Jones, have confessed to doping.
America had clearly been in denial about drug-taking at the turn of the century, so much so that Dick Pound, then head of the World Anti Doping Agency, even suggested that US Track and Field (USATF) should be thrown out of the IAAF, the world body that governs athletics.
Today, the picture could not be more different.
America is at the forefront of attempts to ensure drug cheats are caught, working hand-in-hand with the US Federal authorities to achieve that goal.
Ten days ago, whilst investigating just how seriously the Americans are taking the issue of drug-taking in sport, I attended the Penn Relays in Philadelphia.
Bringing together high school athletes and Olympic champions, the event, which is more than 100 years old, showed the popularity such meets can have in the States, with nearly 50,000 gathering to watch the main races on Saturday.
There, I spoke to athletes like Olympic 400m champion Jeremy Wariner and World 200m champion Allyson Felix.
Wariner told me he realises every time he wins there are people who will think he did it with the aid of drugs. He says he is clean, but the perception people currently have of athletics is something that cannot be easily changed.
The problem is heightened by what Senator George Mitchell described to me as the vow of silence that exists.
Athletes may know a competitor is taking drugs but refuse to shop him or her.
The senator's own report on drug-taking in baseball exposed some of the problems America faces in cleaning up its act.
And baseball will enter the dock again this summer when Barry Bonds goes on trial in San Francisco.
Before then, Trevor Graham, the athletics coach who supplied a syringe laced with the designer steroid THG to the US authorities, triggering the Balco scandal and unravelling US drug-taking, goes on trial.
And, just as Graham's whistle-blowing resulted in offenders like Jones and Tim Montgomery being caught, there are already reports that many more famous names who have always denied taking drugs could now be exposed as cheats.
As the US authorities acknowledge, such a crackdown is possible because they are now making use of federal law, not just relying on sporting sanctions.
And there are those, like multi-Olympic champion Carl Lewis with whom I spoke at the Penn Relays, who insist the next step must be to make taking banned drugs in sport a criminal offence.
But for the battle against the drug cheats to succeed, the testing programme must be robust.
Conte, who did time for his role in supplying drugs to sportsmen and women, has his doubts whether this is the case.
He is convinced the sporting authorities do not conduct tests properly - and certainly not at the right time.
And he should know. His drugs programme was designed to make sure athletes avoided detection when the testers came.
Conte spoke to me in the same room where he had planned his infamous Project World Record that aimed to make Montgomery the fastest man alive.
Some may think it a bit rich for Conte, who treated athletes like racehorses, to preach, but the points he makes are backed up by the sort of detail only a former insider would have.
The authorities would do well to take note and act on his knowledge if they are serious about catching the cheats.