The Kid

I don't blog too much on baseball. I tend to not watch the sport that I worshiped as a kid. That was the hey day of The Big Reds' Machine: Bench, Morgan, Foster, Rose, Griffey, on and on. In the modern era it's easy to become very blase, very jaded and cynical about baseball; the Steroid Era has done that. Obviously it's much the same as what EPO has done to cycling. For me, it's easier to admire Lemond or Hinault, Merckx, b/c they weren't as juiced up. Did they take junk? I believe they did of some type. Did Mantle, Mays, Aaron and Ruth take junk? Of some type they did, but it didn't make them super-human; it only dulled the day-to-day pain that interfered with a day's work. That is, at least, my non-scientific pile of BS I espouse tonight. Tonight, the Kid joined a very selective crowd: Aaron, Ruth, Mays, Bonds, & Sosa. I hesitate to insert those last 2 names. They represent baseball just like a Pantani, a Basso or an Ullrich does for cycling. Dopage and dirty sports. Maybe the Kid did the junk, but most pundits don't believe so. Maybe they're wrong, but his numbers seem awfully honest, his accomplishments borne of talent and not of a freakish, muscle-bound Sosa-esque or McGwire-esque freak show physique. I was elated when Griff joined the Reds. It hasn't been close to working out, but that's modern small-market baseball, save those bizarre Marlins. It's fun to see an immortal before our eyes in America's pastime. There is nothing better than a dog, a cold one, and 9 innings of summer to kick back and watch.