Pete Rose Should Be A Big Steroid Fan

Here's an easy way to let people know you're mentally handicapped

With this weekend’s induction of Ricky Henderson, Jim Rice and a third guy who no one is talking about into the Baseball Hall of Fame, talks again shifted to whether it’s time to allow Pete Rose in.  It’s gotten to the point that I’m not sure you can say the words ‘hall of fame’ without someone bringing up Charlie Hustle.  You could be touring a nursing home and when the employee pointed out the resident wall of fame, some old woman may pop out and say ‘hall of fame?  Is it time to let in Pete Rose?’  And that would be really weird because why would you be touring a nursing home? 

It seems Hank Aaron is lobbying for Rose now, which could finally sway Bud Selig to reinstate him.  If you haven’t been paying attention for the past couple of years, Aaron has gone into full curmudgeon mode and is calling out every baseball great of the past 10 years.  I guess losing his career home run record really pissed him off, but I can’t say I blame him.  I’d be tempted to drive off an overpass if Bonds passed me on the highway, I can only imagine the havoc I would wreak if Bonds passed me for something important.  I guess what I’m poorly trying to articulate is that it’s not surprising that Aaron is supporting Rose because if he’s against any recent star who is under suspicion of taking steroids, by default he is behind any older legend who has no steroids suspicions, regardless of any other crimes. 

That seems to be the way many former players and even media and fans are going though.  Now that steroids has corrupted the game more than many thought possible, transgressions that seemed unfathomably terrible in the past now don’t seem so bad.  Sure, Rose bet on baseball while he was involved in the game, which used to be the worst thing a player could do, but at least he didn’t openly cheat to inflate his numbers.  Sure, Joe Jackson may have been involved with the greatest scandal in baseball history, but at least he played on a level field while throwing games.  Sure, Vince Coleman threw firecrackers at people, but at least he couldn’t hit many because he didn’t use steroids to enhance his throwing arm. 

It makes one wonder if there will be a baseball crime in the future that will make historians look back fondly on those greats of the past who innocently injected themselves with steroids.  How bad would baseball have to get for people to forgive Bonds and McGwire for only blatantly cheating on the field?  For the answer, you only have to study the recent headlines.  Baseball playing robots are clearly the next horrible way to cheat in the sport.  Sure, Barry Bonds broke a sacred record by juicing and refuses to admit it, but at least he was human.

Tags: baseball, Bud Selig, Hall of Fame, Hank Aaron, MLB, Pete Rose, steroids

Farewell Harry

The last loved man in Philadelphia

I won’t bore you with all the details about the life or death of Harry Kalas.  You can get all of that from much better sources by much better writers.  I just have a couple of observations to add to the discussion regarding Harry’s surprising death today. 

You needn’t worry that I’ll poke fun at the man, or about his passing.  Of course I was very fond of Kalas, like everyone else.  And that’s the first point. 

The people of Philadelphia are known by all to be among the biggest assholes in the world.  This is not an opinion, it is a well documented fact.  They’ve booed cancer-surviving children, their home teams on the first game of the season, and Santa Clause at the end of the parade.  They even carved land from two different states and moved the nation’s capital to a swamp just to get out of Philly.

Hate is the only thing that has bonded the people of “The City of Brotherly Love” together.  As a rule they hate everyone.  Except Harry Kalas.  They loved him.  This speaks more of his character and skill than any of the cheesy tributes cycling on ESPN today.  He was truly the last loved man in Philadelphia.

My second thought was how much I’d love to die in a broadcast booth.  What better place to go?  Especially for someone like Harry who lived to announce.  And to think how close he was to checking out on the air…

Tags: Announcer, baseball, Hall of Fame, Harry Kalas, MLB, Philadelphia, Philadelphia Phillies

Remember Me? I’m Jeff Kent. Remember?

"There's not gonna be any black people here right?"

Jeff Kent announced his retirement from baseball today after 17 seasons, and it was completely coincidental that he did it on the slowest day of the slowest week in sports too.  Yep, Humble Jeff, as he’s known around the club house, didn’t want any media attention or anything, but darn the luck, he made headlines on every sports page in America just because of how slow things are.  Other nicknames for the retiring recluse include Kind-Hearted Kent, Milton’s Man, Barry’s Bud, and Jolly Jeff.  

Sure, he holds the all time record for home runs by a second baseman and will almost certainly make the Hall of Fame, but he will always be remembered as one of the biggest jerks to ever play the game. From his weird little mustache, the way he alienated himself in every clubhouse he was a part of, the way he hurt himself on his motorcycle and lied about it, to the shitty stink-eye he gave everyone on the field and in the media, Jeff has cemented himself a place in the Hall of Buttholes just behind life-long friend Barry Bonds.

So I say give it up to him.  Had he held this press conference last week you might have seen it scroll by the bottom of the screen on ESPN if you were really paying attention.  And probably only once.  It’s not like he’s Brett Butt-Fuck Favre who could squeeze out a fart that sounded like the word “retire” during the Super Bowl for the next five years and cause the game to come to a halt.  This is Jeff Kent.  His douche-baggery should be celebrated.  Otherwise what the fuck am I supposed to write about this week?

Tags: Barry Bonds, Brett Favre, Hall of Fame, Jeff Kent, Los Angeles Dodgers, Milton Bradley, San Francisco Giants