Open any newspaper—that’s just an expression since we get our news online now—and it seems like every day, another athlete is making headlines for cheating.
The latest head scratcher comes in the form of Alex Rodriguez.
Come to find out, for at least three seasons, A-Rod’s homeruns were accompanied by a little extra oomph—performance enhancing drugs.
Sadly, in sports today, this scenario is all too believable.
Take a look around and you’ll discover that Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, two of the greatest* (there’s the asterisk) baseball players ever, are in the process of becoming intimately familiar with the word perjury.
The list goes on.
Shawnee Merriman’s sack dance contained a little extra kick. Rodney Harrison used HGH to heal faster from an injury. The Patriots employed cameras where they shouldn’t have been.
Even new University of Tennessee football coach Lane Kiffin, who hasn’t coached a game yet, has already committed three minor recruiting violations.
And you know that come July, at least one cyclist will get busted for doping at the Tour de France.
As sporting fans are left to hang their heads and question if their favorite player is clean or not, I began to ponder what other sacred trusts have been betrayed by those who earn their living in the public eye?
So I made a few phone calls and talked to some of my contacts, because, after all, we here at The Bleacher Report (I know, shameless plug) go to any and all lengths to unearth the truth.
Strap yourself in as you prepare to read these shocking results:
While Frosted Flakes might indeed be grrrrreat, Tony the Tiger was actually a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Not only was she a natural brunette with a dye job and hair extensions, but Cindy Brady never, ever sold a single sea shell by the sea shore. Not once.
Batman referred to the Boy Wonder as Weakling-partner-who-causes-me-to-fight-my-share-of-bad-guys-and-then-rescue-his-sorry-butt-because-he-couldn’t-fight-his-way-out-of-an-ant-colony, but they settled on Robin because the other name took way too long to say in the heat of battle.
The Road Runner was actually on the payroll of the ACME Company. His contract called for ACME to deliberately supply Wile E. Coyote with defective equipment leading to his demise at the end of every cartoon. Upon uncovering this truth, Coyote and his team of high-priced Hollywood lawyers sued ACME for deliberate negligence.
Coyote now claims to suffer constant back spasms and has arthritis in both knees as a result of one too many falls from the top of a 5,000 foot high cliff. The parties settled out of court for what is believed to be a 10 figure payment. As part of the settlement, Coyote had to sign a non-disclosure agreement.
G.I. Joe, whose claim to fame is being a real American hero, was actually Australian. Like fellow countrymen Russell Crowe and Nicole Kidman, he has an uncanny ability to hide his accent. Joe admitted to the ruse at this year’s Australian Open when a U.S. reporter interviewed him during a change-over as he watched the men’s final between Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer.
Despite all of the money his TV show father had, Ricky Schroder never owned a Silver Spoon—they were all chrome.
Long before his legal troubles began, O.J. Simpson always rented cars from Avis while on vacation, despite his slew of Hertz commercials.
Holly Hobby has spent her entire adult life pimping the Easy Bake Oven and her prowess as some type of master chef; yet, she was denied admission to the Johnson and Whales College of Culinary Arts in Rhode Island and has no formal cooking training.
In 2004, Smokey the Bear was fined $15,000 and spent 10 days in jail after park officials discovered he abandoned his camp site without properly extinguishing a camp fire. Smokey blamed the incident on a long night of marshmallow roasting. When he came to the next morning, he was lost in the middle of the woods with marshmallow stuck to his face and surrounded by seven empty jars of honey.
Tweety Bird was legally blind and wouldn’t know a cat from an elephant.
Barbie had previously been picked up three times for solicitation. After a long stint in rehab—and with some help from Dr. Drew—she finally kicked her meth habit. After two years of being clean and sober, she met Ken. You know the rest of the story.
Word around Hollywood is that, while making niceties on the red carpet, Scooby Doo and the Jetson’s dog, Astro, were bitter rivals. They both were represented by the same management agency and when each canine’s career took off, jealousy quickly ensued. Both dogs constantly badgered Hanna-Barbera to redo his contract every time the other received an extension.
And finally, this past weekend, I had a drink at the Boston bar that the show Cheers was patented after and, much to my astonishment, not a single soul in the joint knew my name.
What’s next? I suppose WWE storylines are scripted?