Dumb Information

The Day that Baseball Died

Posted in Baseball, death, Drugs, Sport, Strike by Chop on 9 February 2009

Give it up already.
This new baseball steroid scandal reeks of so much wrong, it will be very difficult to put in one article. But being the writer that I think I am, let’s give it a shot.
First, Alex Rodriguez has been implicated as yet another steroid needle ninja, as unconfirmed reports leaked that he tested positive for Primobolan and testosterone in what was meant to be an anonymous testing in 2003. Nearly 1,200 players were tested to determine if a mandatory random drug test sport wide would be necessary.
Records sealed and tucked away nicely in some drawer at a drug lab, only rearing their ugly head once again because baseball and the rest of the free world want to see Barry Bonds burned at the stake Joan of Arc. As the Yahoo report stated, “The government is trying to prove Bonds lied when he told a grand jury he never knowingly took performance-enhancing drugs.”
Baseball, get over it. Government, find something else to focus your attention on, say people trying to blow cars up in Arkansas or people trying to blow cars up period.
Second, the only real issue we here at DI see with Mr. A-Rod is the fact that he left a smokin’ hot wife for the washed up material girl Madonna, sweet move Hot Rod.
Third, and likely most important, Jose Canseco wrote a book. “Vindicated: Big Names, Big Liars, and The Battle to Save Baseball,” hit the bookshelves in 2008 claiming that Canseco introduced the Rodster to a drug dealer, possibly Tyrone Biggums. Although I have not read the book (I really don’t look forward to seeing a bunch of Crayola marks on notebook paper unless it comes from one of my children) I am betting, sorry Charlie Hustle, that there is nothing about getting his face caved in during his brief yet entertaining professional fighting career, or giving up a home run with his hard as a brick skull, or blowing his arm out in his half an inning or so performance for the Texas Rangers.
Fourth through ninth, Rodriquez was quoted as saying “you’ll have to talk to the union” in regards to the current issues at hand. The Baseball Players Association, formed in 1953, has assisted the game and fans with such cool things like massive uncontrollable salaries for athletes, three work stoppages as players were stroking, I mean striking, and the cancellation of a World Series because of inhumane working conditions and benefits. The players union has the sport in such a stranglehold that it is slowly but surely killing it. The fact that it is not run like any other company world wide gives it that sour in your mouth kind of feeling to the massive fan base, the fan base that buys tickets and jerseys, and the fan base that falls asleep with a beer in their laps watching that nail biter on T.V. If someone pops positive for a random drug test, suspend them, hit them hard in the wallet. If they do it again, get rid of them, just as the rest of the working nation would do. The union, acting in the best interest of the athletes, have padded their pocketbooks and raped the consumer, us fans that have stayed devoted to the game through all of the work stoppages and all of the drug scandals and all of the “I have to sit out of this game because I have turf toe” episodes these new age pansy ass crybabies have played out. Babe Ruth could swig back a fifth of Kentucky’s finest, get run over by a truck on the way to the ballpark, and still go 4-4 with 3 touch all of em’ kind of swings, saving the puke fest for after the game. These days, with all the advances in modern medicine and the unlimited access to the dreaded “steroid”, players, with the exception of Iron Cal, can’t give us a fresh nine innings any more for fear of breaking a nail. But we as the consumer have to sit back and take it up the tailpipe, because in the famous words of A-Roid, “you’ll have to talk to the union.”
Tenth, I believe that this is the final straw, the inevitable baseball implosion that the owners and players union created. The game that I grew up loving so much, the days at the minor league ballpark cheering on the Shreveport Captains, buying overcharged and undercooked hot dogs that were the greatest tasting food on the planet because I was sitting next to my mom and dad watching Charlie “Willie Mays” Hayes, those days are but a memory now. The days that superstars stopped by after the game to talk to me because my dad performed some dorky dance flagging him down, those days are gone, but thanks for the memory anyways Andy Benes from the Wichita Wranglers. I will never forget those days, just as I will never forget the sport that I loved for so long. I will however get over it, move on with my life, and try and forget about all of the scandals, the tirades, the Will Clarks of the league pushing a kid out of the way because they are being bothered for a signature on one of their own baseball cards, that was me by the way Big Will; I will try and stuff all of that crap deep inside a shoe box, lock it up, and throw away the key, because, if only just for me, this is “The Day that Baseball Died.”
Obituary – 8 February 2009
Professional Baseball
Every Town, USA – Services for Professional Baseball, 133 give or take a few, will not be held. There will be no one officiating, as fans and priests will try and move on with their lives and find something else to dump money into, possibly WWE.
The Baseball family, however, will continue to accept visitors to its website to show respect.
Baseball entered into rest on Sunday, February 08, 2009, across the nation after a long fight with greed and stupidity.
Major League Baseball was born in 1876 across America, and was preceded in death by its father Abner Doubleday and millions of faithful fans and players.
Left to cherish its memories are its loving fans that still live, including me, as well as the owners and players who assisted in its death.
Baseball earned respect and love during the early 1900’s, but began to fail in its old age due to player strikes and multi-billion dollar contracts. After the strike of 1994 that halted World Series play, baseball slipped into a coma, recovering only for a brief moment during the Mac Attack and Sosa Swat summer of ‘98. Shortly after that, baseball became addicted to drugs (primarily steroids), working itself in and out of rehab, but its old age finally gave in to the greed and stupidity.
The Baseball family would like to express their appreciation to all who loved it, and all who enjoyed those dog days of summer at the Old Ballgame. Baseball would also like to thank Mark McGuire, Sammy Sosa, Roger Clemens, Raphael Palmeiro, Barry Bonds, and Alex Rodriguez for giving it one last fighting chance at life.
Pallbearers will be the ghosts of Babe Ruth, Rogers Hornsby, Mickey Mantle, Ty Cobb, Satchel Paige, and Cy Young.
Honorary pallbearers will be the ghosts of the remainder of Major League Baseball, those who gave us the memories that we will forever cherish.
In life Baseball did such wonderful things, so it is with great sadness that we bury it today. Heroes Funeral Home

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