When Barry Bonds breaks Hank Aaron's lifetime home run record within the next two seasons, he will be booed. Mercilessly. He'll be booed because he's a cheater, because he's a liar, and because he's an egotistical bastard who treats other human beings like tiny scabs left behind by syringe pricks. (And really, when speaking about Bonds, appearance of the word prick is practically mandatory.)
The only thing larger than Barry's steroid-soaked head is the fallout from the last month's worth of revelations and accusations about performance-enhancing drugs in baseball. Even if the public doesn't care (and we don't), and even if Major League Baseball owes its renaissance to the artificially-inflated numbers from artificially-inflated players (and it does), the party's over. Too many politicians are too interested in what is one of those slam-dunk public relations coups for congressmen on the stump. ("Save our children from steroids!" "Eliminate flat tires!" "Unlike my opponent, I will not now, nor will I ever, ban the sale of umbrellas on rainy days, so help me God!")
How will it sound to have BABE RUTH, BARRY BONDS and STEROIDS in the same sentence?
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