Stuff to See!

Delayed Reaction

It's been a while.
I was waiting for details of Raffy's positive steroid test to become available, so that perhaps I could revisit some of my plaudits from mid-July.
They have not yet been forthcoming.
In incongruous fashion, Raffy's career, marked by consistency, will go out with the steroid bang and with offensive whimper at the plate. Maybe this is appropriate.
Without omniscience, it's impossible to tell how many of Palmeiro's cohorts and competitors have been juicing, so to throw out his statistics merely because he was caught with something seems a bit premature, and certainly misses the whole truth. Still, one has to wonder how many of his 550+ homeruns would have been long fly outs to the warning track without unnatural enhancement. Would the number be high enough to preclude the less easily tainted magic number of 3000?
Who knows.
Perhaps it is just that the Orioles, who seem to be trying to match the Ravens in unsavory characters per capita, have fallen from their high perch like a brick. Sosa is a known one-time (at least) cheater. Palmeiro now wears the scarlet S (and earplugs). Ponson continues to channel his ill-gained millions into self destruction. The O's weren't as good as the first 81 games indicated, but they're not quite as bad as the last 50, either. Or are they? At this point, I don't even care.
No, I'm not disillusioned by Palmeiro's positive steroid test. Eight years of losing baseball haven't destroyed my love of the game. Other things now occupy my time, and what was once worth talking about just doesn't seem important any more.
Who else used steroids? I won't go so far as to say that Cal Ripken used them, being allergic to lawsuits and lynching, but one wonders how far back this particular form of cheating has gone. Cal's legacy is one of consistency and endurance, not bonecrushing feats at the plate (though he did hit over 400 homeruns and 3000 total base hits, being one of only eight to do so). I don't care much for him as a player or a person, but I can't help but admire what he did. Was it all thanks to Esskay hot dogs and mid-Atlantic milk? Maybe.
Maybe not.
That's the real shame involved with the steroid problem in baseball. Great feats of athletic achievement after 1985 or so are now all subject to question. At this point, nothing is sacred. Small wonder that I've lost the urge to follow baseball, or any other sport, as passionately as in days gone by. Add to this that other wonderful things are happening in my life and it's easy to see why I just don't give a damn any more.