Hello, Mike Lupica! Mr. Lupica? Can you hear me, Mr. Lupica? Up there on your high horse, can you hear me, the common working man, down here in the grind of everyday life.
As my 22 month old would say, "Woo Hoo!" Can, I call you Mike? Thanks. Mike, here's the thing, I'm not really sure how to say this and I'm not normally a guy to beat around the bushes, but here it is, You...are...acting...like...a...hypocrite! In an effort to "take a stand against steroids" and no doubt protect our youth, you said that Mark McGwire should not be in the Hall of Fame.
I liked it when you said that, I did. You had an opinion and you were willing to share it with the world. Good for you. Here's the problem. There's a book on my shelf that you wrote detailing how McGwire and Sosa saved baseball. Do you remember that book, Sir?
Stickie-notes on the floor of your son's room telling him the exploits of Mac and Sosa the night before? Surely, you remember that book. It has Mac's picture on the front. The book about fathers and sons and how the love is passed from one generation to the next. Talking to your Dad on the night that Mac hits 62 all those years after watching Maris (who should be in the Hall) hit 61. Do you remember that book, sir?
I hope so, because I have a great way for you to have a little more integrity the next time you wax oh so eloquent on the television (by the way, I'm not even touching what that particular instrument is accused of doing to our youth.)
The next time you crawl back up on this particular soap box, I will believe you really care about more than ratings, I will stand and defend you, I will rally my friends to your cause, if...and to be honest only if...you donate some of the profits from the book to charity.
Perhaps, a charity that provides underprivileged kids in fine city you call home an opportunity to participate in sports or something. OK, stop laughing for minute and listen to what I'm saying. You gained from what you claim McGwire did, that makes you no better than him. When you get up there and spout about the moral turpitude of these guys, it just doesn't ring true.
When Mac was loved and baseball was turning its collective eye away from the obvious, you made money. If I were a businessman, I would probably respect that, but I'm not a business man. You're a reporter. You're supposed to be the one who helps us--the little guys, who work swing shift, and get indigestion because we're not sure our bills will get paid this month—hold our athletes accountable.
You’re the guy with the access that men like me, men who stand beside their daughters bed after not seeing them because we had to work a double shift today hoping for a better life for them. At least that's what I'm hearing when I hear talk about this year's Hall ballot.
How can you do that when you're making money endorsing the very man, you know call a cheater? Now, to be fair, the entire book is not about Mac and Sammy, but at least half the book deals with them and their exploits that summer. So I think that would be a good place to start. Half of all money made from the book should be given to charity.
If you really believe they cheated and they should be punished then have some integrity, and don't make money glorifying guys you think cheated us, the working stiff. If you don't think it's wrong to make money off of cheating than treat Mac and Sammy fairly and check their name when you vote. I'm going to bet, that you'll say it's not OK to profit off of cheating, or by glorifying those men who cheated.
Then I beg you, Mike give some of the money back. Take a real stand. Do something that will really start a conversation going. I dare you. I dare you to be the man, you want us to believe you are.
A man, who stands on principle, a man who stands for what he believes. Otherwise, just stick with writing about football because what you say about baseball and Mac and how I should feel about it sounds like nothing more than meaningless rhetoric.