Indeed, since 1968, the International Olympic Committee has taken gold, silver or bronze medals from more than 40 athletes. Each has suffered a certain disgrace at the hands of the media, to be sure, but perhaps it is time to consider a more refined punishment for such offenders. Here we might learn something from our Greek forebears.

Just outside the entrance to the ancient stadium in Olympia - the site of the first Olympic Games in 776 B.C. - stand a series of crumbling stone bases known as the Zanes. Battered remains of bronze statues (the earliest are thought to date from 388 B.C.), they once stood as an Olympic walk of shame.

If an athlete broke his Olympic oath - common violations included bribery, tardiness, cowardice, lying and fraud - he was fined and forced to purchase a statue of Zeus. The name of the athlete and, in some cases, his father's name plus his Greek city-state were inscribed on the base of the statue, which was then placed along the entranceway to the great stadium.

Why statues to Zeus? Greek myth held that Zeus had defeated Kronos in a wrestling match for possession of the earth, so Olympic competition, held close to the god's massive temple, was seen as a sacred act or privilege, available only to a select few. As athletes neared the field of play, herded by priests and whip-bearers, they were reminded of all who had offended Zeus and disgraced their home communities. They were made to understand that cheaters would be immortalized in stone.

What might it look like if we tried to re-establish this worthy ancient institution?

Certainly there is a need for it - and not just for the Olympics. The former All-Star pitcher Roger Clemens remains in court, attempting to clear his name in a scandal that has forever tarnished the game of baseball. In football, the New Orleans Saints will not soon recover from the penalties and suspensions imposed by the NFL for the team's outrageous system of bounties for disabling opposing players. And whole books have been written about the cheaters in international swimming and weightlifting, to say nothing of the Tour de France.

In fact, the Tour de France, which starts later this month, may be just the place to start with Zanes of our own. We could immortalize in marble and bronze such recent, but now repudiated, winners as Floyd Landis, Marco Pantani and Jan Ullrich. And given the recent decision of the Court of Arbitration for Sport to strip 2010 Tour de France winner Alberto Contador of his title for alleged drug use, he could be included too. Imagine the effect if, in June, the riders competing in the 2012 Tour were forced to race down the Champs-Elysees, whizzing past statues of disgraced former winners?

How would modern athletes respond if a Zanes-like protocol was established in modern temples of sports like Yankee Stadium or Pauley Pavilion at UCLA? What would happen if, as fans and athletes entered, they were obliged to acknowledge the crimes of their heroes and peers? If nothing else, it would finally give some bite to our endless rhetoric about players who 'bring the game into disrepute.'

Or maybe we could update the ancient idea for the digital age. Would the behavior of athletes change if those convicted of crimes against their sport had to pay for the creation of a five-minute video for, say, the National Baseball Hall of Fame, showcasing their guilt? Their statistics might disappear from the official record books to be replaced by a notice about their transgressions (and perhaps the names of their parents). Their home-run titles or Cy Young awards would not be listed with asterisks; they would simply be wiped away.

As the Olympics unfold this summer, it should not come as a surprise that some of the athletes competing will be 'dirty.' What's notable is that international Olympic officials and national Olympic committees have been unable to create more permanent representations of athletes who have failed to honor the code of fair completion. Maybe it's time to set such things in stone again.