Clearly remorse, like courage, is out of fashion these days. While Donald Trump continues to pardon or commute sentences for a truly miserable cast of characters, none of whom have expressed even a milli-second’s worth of remorse for their crimes, it’d be nice if a grand national pastime like say, Major League Baseball, would step up and show America’s youth that cheating has serious consequences.

Until this past week it appeared unlikely that any of the actual players for the Houston Astros would be fined, suspended or otherwise disciplined either for the cheating scheme they created or were complicit in with their silence. But now, with heavyweights like Mike Trout — i.e. the best player in the game — and LeBron James, the most famous athlete of the moment — coming out and saying that baseball commissioner Rob Manfred is blowing it by letting the players skate, the times may be a changin’.

The commissioners of pro sports are quasi-independent employees of the owners of the various teams, and those owners, like CEOs everywhere have one primary objective: make money, or at least steadily increase the value of their investment. The punishment the Astros have received so far amounts to pretty much a parking ticket to people of the average owner’s total net worth.

But were Commissioner Manfred to belatedly bow to player pressure (in addition to fan and pundit pressure) and take serious action to restore credibility to the game and set a vivid precedent for anyone who tries anything like what the Astros have been proven to have done … well, that’ll have significant bottom line consequences for the Astros and several other teams, including the Twins and Yankees, whose current rosters include players involved with the Astros scandal in 2017 and 2018.

When the initial punishments of Houston executives and their manager were handed down, Manfred boxed himself in a corner by granting Astros players immunity if they came clean and admitted what they had done. Conventional wisdom was that the MLB’s Players Association would not have stood still for investigations, much less penalties of players. The thinking was that — as with your average bad cop — solidarity was so tight among players across baseball Manfred risked legalized mutiny and a PR nightmare by getting tough on the players.

But now, with a steadily increasing volume of outrage coming from opposing players, (i.e. other union members), rightfully disgusted by the way Astros players have slimed the reputation of the game (not to mention arguably stolen championships and individual awards), Manfred is getting pushed closer to making the decision he should have made weeks ago.

What kind of punishment? Vacating the Astros 2017 World Championship might seem extreme, but the NCAA (no one’s idea of an all-wise and just organization) has levied similar penalties right here in Minnesota.

Losing the 2017 World Series banner would sting. But the big hit, the only one that would catch everyone’s attention and send an unequivocal sign that baseball will not tolerate corruption, would be to suspend each and everyone of the Astros players on either the 2017 or 2018 teams, wherever they are now. (The Twins’ Marwin Gonzalez and the Yankees super-expensive new hire, Gerrit Cole would have to be included. Gonzalez has at least expressed remorse, which is more than any other the other Astros star players.)

One proposal is a 50-game suspension for each player. But that’s roughy 30 games less than the suspension a player gets for using an illegal diuretic. Eighty-one-games seems more commensurate with the discredit the players have brought on the game, and a full season is a nice round number that would serve like a bat to the head of anyone still not paying attention.

The financial impact is obvious. The Astros would have to field a team of minor leaguers and emergency hires that very few would want to see play, while the Twins and Yankees and other teams with ex-Astros would be more modestly debilitated.

My understanding is that most major league contracts contain, in essence, morality clauses, voiding the contract if a player’s personal behavior grossly violates common standards of decency. Since debasing the good name of baseball qualifies (IMHO), owners would not have to pay serious sums of money for the duration of the suspension … but would be in the business of complicated, expensive make goods for TV contracts, season tickets, corporate boxes, field advertising and on and on.

Better legal minds say Manfred’s immunity gambit has destroyed any option he might have to push for real punishment now. But he’s falling into a predicament where he has to try.

The point is — and it’s especially valid in the age of Donald Trump, someone or some organization somewhere has — to put it grandly — demonstrate a moral obligation to the culture at large. How? By standing up and proving it will not tolerate corruption. By showing there are very serious financial and reputational consequences for cheating.

Donald Trump’s sleaze and corruption may be entirely acceptable if you’re a Republican Senator, Congressman or state official. Or if you’re a white evangelical or a NASCAR fan.

But for everyone else who wonders and worries what the effect a vulgar, pussy-grabbing, porn star-cavorting, pathological liar is having on America’s youth, it’d be cathartic to see a bedrock role-modeling institution like big league baseball say emphatically, “No. This shit is dead wrong. Actions have consequences. So you guys are off the field and out of the money for a year.”