My Reaction to Ortiz PED Allegations

papiDavid Ortiz is the latest in a fearsome lineup of would-be hall of famers to be dragged under the worn tarmac of performance-enhancing drug speculation. If proven guilty, I would advocate for the lifetime ban of this once-proud slugger as I would for any player caught cheating the game. One day, when the smoke finally clears, Major League Baseball could be faced with a cold reality: maybe 90% of ballplayers juiced. Maybe Cal Ripken, Ken Griffey Jr., Albert Pujols, Greg Maddux, Rickey Henderson-maybe they all were cheaters.

If Bud Selig had the testicular fortitude to draw a line in the sand, he would have done so by now. Pete Rose is banished from the game for betting on his team to win games. And yet we slap blatant, omnipresent cheaters with 50 game suspensions? Manny Ramirez returns to Mannywood and is marketed just as feverishly as before his suspension?

While it pains me to have to call into question the first Red Sox championship in 86 years, I think we have to do so now, regardless of the fact that probably every other team was cheating in some capacity as well. This defense (the “he stole, so why shouldn’t I?” line of reasoning) is as immature as it is short-sighted.

If tomorrow we exposed each and every current ballplayer that at one point had used steroids and we expelled all these players from the game, MLB would be faced with a serious predicament. My guess is we’d lose half our beloved hometown heroes. Selig would have to dip beyond the farm system, probably into D3 community college baseball, maybe Babe Ruth, who knows? The caliber of play might go down the tubes but just imagine the joy and innocence derived from watching an honest game of baseball.

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Breaking Down Wimbledon

download-2There’s been a less-than-pleasant bed bug infestation at the humble chateau de Bisbee/Duah. It began as a minor disturbance, a hole in the screen we thought, undoubtedly allowing in some pesky mosquitos. But my negligence to nip the problem at the bud resulted in the realization of great bed bug civilizations and a few nights ago I was roundly bludgeoned into a schizophrenic mess. I’ve remained this way since, basically– sleeping on the living room floor while visions of human-sized arthropods and Hanley Ramirez batting lines dance through my head…

Anyway, I’ve gotten about three hours of sleep over the past two nights. With this being said, here are some thoughts on Wimbledon:

As I lounged on the sofa today awaiting the arrival of an unreliable exterminator, I had the good fortune of stumbling upon Wimbledon tennis on NBC. I watched parts of four matches: V. Williams vs. Safina, S. Williams vs. Dementieva, Roddick vs. Hewitt and a bit of a re-run from yesterday’s Federer/Karlovic match. I was struck by the mind-boggling contrast between the men’s and women’s game. Women’s tennis is so much more enjoyable to watch!

Williams/Dementieva was a three-set classic that, with some different wind patterns or a slightly adjusted net height, could have gone Dementieva’s way just as easily. Each player consistently hit well-placed, deep ground strokes. Granted, there was the occasional unforced error but, compared to the men, Williams and Dementieva were paragons of steadiness.

V. Williams’ match was, admittedly, not much of a classic. Venus thoroughly shellacked Safina 6-1, 6-0 using a combination of powerful forehand winners and the reliability of Safina’s timely blunders. Despite Safina’s miscues, though, and the constant lambasting by the folks in the NBC booth, I thought the match was enjoyable enough to watch. They had some good points, Safina just ended up blowing all of them.

Bringing me to my point… do I have a point?… yes… tennis is only fun to watch if the points go on for more than a fraction of a second. I was almost bored to tears watching Karlovic ace his way to a game, then Federer, then back and forth until the match was over and the entire stadium was aroused to wipe the spittle from their lips. Roddick and Hewitt had slightly better rallies but on average I would guess each point lasted no more than four shots back and forth. These are all incredible players whose serves could strip the varnish off a flagstaff but I would rather watch a Sandra Bullock romance/comedy than sit through another two hour serving clinic.

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