Blinded By The Light

From what I have been led to believe, there is no crying in baseball. That ethos is now being tested by Mithchell-named MLB players arriving at spring training. Andy Pettite, Brian Roberts and company are exposing their sensitive side (albeit through their lawyer's request) by profusely apologizing for their use of steroids and HGH (based on my research* HGH is a highly potent form of plutonium that mutates the baseball player into a multi-limbed, superhuman athlete). Real men don't apologize. To admit you were wrong shows weakness!

Baseball has stood, for as long as I can remember, as the pinnacle of manhood. If these press-conferences were held ten years ago, this is how they would unfold:

Press: How do you respond to the senator's allegations of your blatant drug use?
Roberts: (grunt)
P: How do you think this will influence children who look up to you?
R: (chugs a can of beer, crushes it on his head and throws it at the reporter.)
P: Great catch by the way, to end the third inning.
R: Urggh. (scratches around his cup, which he is still wearing under his street clothes.)

Now that is how a man controls a conference! Total indifference. These were the heroes of my youth. Now they are reduced to openly emotional men, completely responsible for their actions, pressured to do the right thing. The jig is up. Tom Hanks must be mortified.

Mankind's last hope now rests on football players. Baseball has fallen into the shadow, engulfed by the armies of darkness who have already conquered cycling and track events. Leaving the rest of us blinded by the light of scrutiny and accountability.

Urggh. (scratch)