Wednesday, October 25, 2006

The Pain that is the World Series

If the World Series occurs in October, and no one watches, does it really count as a World Series? Summing up the state of Major League Baseball is pretty simple. They intentionally schedule games around the staple that is the National Football League. Why else would they avoid playing their championship opposite Monday Night Football. The Series schedule is set far in advance, but you can bet officials from the commissioner’s office looks at Monday nights as untouchable.

And why shouldn’t they? The product on the field we get from MLB is so screwed up, that we can’t make it through the magic that is October without more cheating. In a world dominated by the steroids, HGH, and supplements of MLB’s slugging starts, is it any surprise that one of the supposed feel good stories of the playoffs is tainted by some pine tar on a palm? Kenny Rogers, the resurgent starting pitcher for Detroit, had what appeared to be some agent on his palm on the blistering cold Detroit night of Game 2. And what did the MLB officials do about it? Asked him politely to wipe it off!

Now I am no great philiosophizer about the rules and practices of baseball, but from what I could gather from national media and talk shows was that EVERY pitcher in the big leagues cheats in some form or another. That explains St. Louis Cardinals manager Tony LaRusa not blowing his top and demanding Rogers removal from Game 2. Simply amazing. So here is how it works in MLB – if you don’t tell, I won’t tell, and we can BOTH cheat equally.

Then why in the hell are we outlawing steroids and growth hormone? Why not just let these guys juice up to the size of the Incredible Hulk? If traditionalists cry that 110 homers in one season by a juiced up Albert Puljos is too many, then we can just allow sandpaper in the pitchers gloves, some pine tar on the palms, and for God’s sake, let’s bring back the ol’ spitball!

Bud Selig makes me sick. Baseball makes me sick. Get this stuff off the tv. Unless, of course, it’s Fat Elvis and my Houston Astros.

No comments:

Post a Comment