Note: I actually wrote this article Oct. 21, 2008.
With the World Series approaching quickly, my love and passion about baseball has been renewed. I have rediscovered my love of the game. I have rediscovered why I love October.
Not only does it include my birthday, but what other month is as beautiful as October? The leaves changing colors; the temperature starts to fall and it’s not so blistering outside; if the Astros are still playing, the entire city comes alive. Even if they aren’t, there is still that feeling in the air, the anticipation of "Who will win?"
The end of baseball means only one thing...The beginning of football season. College football, professional football, little kid football. And NASCAR. What better of a month to be a sports fan?
With my renewed love of baseball, I have also rediscovered my absolute disgust for those who have tainted it. After watching Intervention’s special last night on prescription drug abuse in this country, A&E ran a special on Jose Canseco. Where he is now, what he is doing, his life since...
Jose Canseco was one of the best, once called the Greatest Player on Earth. And his play deserved it—he was slugging home runs left and right. He was single-handedly carrying the Oakland Athletics to places they’d never dreamed of being. And it was all with a little help from a friend.
Canseco admits to using anabolic steroids and other performance enhancing drugs proficiently throughout his 20-year career. He admits to shooting up fellow players everywhere he went on his whirlwind tour of baseball teams. The people he says he injected are the “who's who” of home-run kings. Vladimir Guerrero. Mark McGwire. Pudge Rodriguez. They are all there.
But no one else wrote a book snitching on all of his friends. Canseco wrote Juiced awhile back, on his life in Major League Baseball and how steroids were a part of it. In the book, he rats out everyone, top to bottom. He saves nothing and no one except for himself.
And now, last night, he is seen crying about his life. How he has nothing, how he has no friends. He has absolutely nothing to show for his time spent destroying MLB's reputation other than the lines in his face. He cries to the camera about how hard it is for him to go out and hear people yelling at him, calling him a “snitch” and a “rat.”
Someone give me a break. Am I really supposed to pity this guy?
I haven't seen so much whining on television in a long time. Am I really supposed to feel sorry for this guy? I mean, you have all the money and opportunity in the world and I'm supposed to feel bad for you because you shot it all into your muscled ass?
That's the most selfish thing I've ever heard. And he's regretting writing that stupid book Juiced because he ratted on all his friends. Give me a break. You wrote that book to make money. What a selfish narcissist. Now he's broke. He looks like crap and he's drowning in his own self pity. I'm not going to give him any.
I understand that steroids weren't against the rules in baseball when he was juicing...but that doesn't mean it doesn't taint and tamper with the game. As far as I'm concerned, Canseco and all his steroid-using friends put a spot on the record of baseball that isn't going to be erased anytime soon. They jinxed the game so many players worked hard to keep clean and pristine.
How dare they take away from the game that way? Think about who used to play the game and who used to support it...Now it's all about home runs and big hits. It's not about the beauty and intricacies it used to be about. No one does the hit-and-run anymore. No one does the suicide squeeze. It's all about designated hitters.
Shame on Canseco for ruining the sport...And shame on him for trying to get baseball-loving fans to pity him. He deserves to live in a box under an underpass for the rest of his life with "rat" written on the side of it.