It has been 14 years since Jay Howell's pine-tarred glove was confiscated on the mound at Shea Stadium. It has been 15 years since umpires made Joe Niekro empty his pockets, and an emery board and sandpaper came flying out. It has been nearly 20 years since Gaylord Perry loaded one up.

You don't hear much about spitballs, scuffballs, sandpaper, thumbtacks and mysterious cuts on baseballs these days. It has been years since anyone accused virtually an entire staff -- such as the mid-1980s Astros led by Mike Scott -- of doctoring the ball. Other than an occasional hitter claiming -- without proof, of course -- that Greg Maddux's incredible natural movement might not be completely natural, especially that changeup that sometimes falls off a roof, there isn't much talk about pitchers cheating. It's being done -- baseball players have been trying to find an edge for over 100 years -- but perhaps not as much as it used to be.

"In three years on this job, this has never come up," said Ralph Nelson, vice president of umpiring for Major League Baseball. "Not once."

Why is this? A number of former players, especially pitchers, offered reasons. Privately, of course.

In 1968 it was set in the rules that pitchers were forbidden to go to their mouth on the dirt surface of the mound. If they did, it was an automatic ball (that happened May 11 to Toronto rookie Justin Miller, resulting in ball four). That's easy for an umpire to see; some veteran umpires can spot far more secretive attempts, so it may not be worth the effort. But, there are also a lot of young umpires who aren't trained as well to detect cheating. Historically, pitchers have been very clever in their methods. Some members of that Astros staff would super-glue a small piece of sandpaper somewhere around the pocket of their gloves, then rub the ball against it. Former Giants manager Roger Craig accused Scott of scuffing, so one day at Candlestick Park fans brought sandpaper to the game and rubbed it together when Scott pitched.

Doctoring a baseball was a lot easier to do before the growth of TV, which has become more intrusive with its new angles, center-field cameras and close-up shots. All eyes are on a pitcher. If he's cheating, it's going to be easier to see. And if he's caught cheating, it will be shown relentlessly on highlight shows, including SportsCenter and Baseball Tonight. Today's athlete hates to be embarrassed. A five-game suspension for scuffing a ball would be humiliating. It's not the same as being suspended five games for throwing at a guy -- that, in some cases, makes him a hero in his clubhouse for defending a teammate. There is no heroism in cutting a ball with a tack. Being labeled a cheater, especially with a larger and more invasive media, is not appealing to any player.

You rarely hear about pitchers throwing a spitball because it is so taxing on the arm. When a ball is loaded up properly and thrown properly, it's similar, only more severe, to throwing a split-fingered fastball, which can put tremendous strain on the elbow. Throwing a spitter is like throwing a wiffleball -- there's not enough resistance for the arm. The threat of Tommy John surgery from too many spitters has perhaps scared off some pitchers from throwing it.

(According to one of his former catchers, Perry was the master of the spitter, but he rarely used it when he had his good stuff -- which was most of the time during his Hall of Fame career. He might use it only once a game, when he was tiring and really needed a big out. Most of the time, he wasn't cheating, but his gyrations before every pitch -- going to his hat, his brow, etc. -- gave the appearance that he was cheating, putting that idea in the hitter's mind).

It's not an easy art to learn to scuff a ball, cut a ball or throw a spitter. It takes a veteran pitcher, a real artist, to teach it to someone. A lot of those veterans from, say, the 1980's, are no longer playing. Plus, players switch teams so often that teaching a teammate to scuff a ball might not be wise because he could be traded, and soon might be pitching against your team.

There are fewer veteran pitchers around, and there are more young pitchers. On May 10, for instance, 24 of the 30 starting pitchers were under 30 years old, and 13 of the 30 were 25 or younger. A young pitcher isn't likely to understand the intricacies of a spitter or a scuffball. A cut baseball, especially a new one, can really sail or run on a pitcher, so it takes time to control it. Plus, today's game is one of power and machismo; today's hitter wants to hit the ball as far as possible and today's pitcher loves to look at the radar gun to see how hard he's throwing. Today's macho pitcher doesn't feel he has to cheat, since he can strike you out with gas.

But cheating is going on. Some pitchers will put a dab of pine tar on the emblem of their gloves, a handy place to wipe the ball -- but it isn't used as much for movement as for getting a good grip, especially in places such as Colorado where the air is thin and dry. When Tom Gordon pitched for the Royals, you occasionally could hear the snap of his fingers when he released the ball because he had such a good grip from pine tar. It's not unusual for a catcher -- Tony Pena was a master -- to wipe pine tar on the ball, or cut the ball with a sharp edge of his shinguards, before throwing the ball back to the pitcher.

All of this still goes on. Just not as often. And you really have to be watching closely to see it.

Tim Kurkjian is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine and a regular contributor to Baseball Tonight. E-mail tim.kurkjian@espnmag.com.