Guest Post

Mike D.'s blog, 96 years and Counting, has been unavailable due to problems with his host. He has something he'd like to say to all of us Cubs' blog readers and Ivy Chat is pleased to provide a venue for him to express his thoughts.

My only regret in posting his ditty is that, given the readership levels here, no one will probably ever read it...

NOT THAT I REALLY GIVE A DAMN ABOUT STEROIDS...
Because I don’t.

They cheated. But they’ve always cheated. And, besides, if a schmoe like me sitting in his living room can tell that the ballplayers aren’t just beefing up on supplements purchased at GNC, then the entities closest to the situation—MLB and the Players Union namely—obviously had to have known something was up. And yet they chose to ignore it, banking (correctly) on the fact that so many drooling ungulates go to games so that they can clap at home runs.

Luckily for me, I’ve never been a big fan of the home run. I hit one my entire little league career. I’ve hit two legitimate homeruns in the past 10 seasons of playing 16" softball. So perhaps that has something to do it with why I don’t go long for the homer. Whatever, but in 1998, the Sammy/Maguire lovefest annoyed me to no end. Consider that at the moment Sammy had hit his 61st home run (and I was there—more on that in a minute), that meant that MORE ballplayers had hit 61 home runs in the preceding 53 seasons (3), than Cubs teams had made the playoffs (2), and yet Chip Caray, supposed "hometown" announcer that he was, was nearly swept away like every other non-Cubs fan in the country about how a once-in-a-lifetime moment it was.

Earlier in the week, when McGwire hit his 62nd, I cringed while I watched Sosa, in the middle of a pennant race, leave his position in right field to still manage to make it about him (obviously not the first or last time), and hug McGwire, who of course rarely seemed comfortable with Sammy’s presence, despite what the writers would call Sammy’s “softening” of Big Mac.

When Sosa went past Maris on the following Sunday, I was sitting in the fifth row in the left-field bleachers (it was actually weird because it was Beanie Baby Day and so we were surrounded by kids. Also, while we were surrounded by kids, one of my buddies was riding Bill Pulsipher—the goat from the previous day-- to the point where Pulsipher dropped a "fuck you" on us - Nice, Bill). Both #61 and #62 soared over my head. And it was exciting—because #62 pulled the Cubs within a run in the 9th. But, of course, I was more excited when Grace hit the walkoff in extra innings because the Cubs had actually won the game, and were very much alive in their quest for a playoff spot that they would eventually back into by losing 6 of their last 8 games. Ugh.

Quick digression--I’m just remembering—again—what a crappy playoff the ’98 Cubs were.

But still. The Cubs were IN IT. And yet all anybody wanted to talk about were home runs.

So I don’t dig the long ball so much as others. Which is probably why I’ve failed to get up in arms about this open secret of steroids. I was already annoyed.

But if I can indulge in one, quick, foray on the topic, I did find it interesting what four-time 20-game winner and one time tranny hooker solicitation loser Dave Stewart had to say on the topic of Jose Canseco’s tell-all book:

"I could never say 'Josie' is a liar," Stewart told the San Francisco Chronicle. "I don't like his work ethic, and I don't like him as a teammate. But one thing I can't say about him is he's a liar.

"As far as what Josie's saying, I can't deny it or verify it. I'm not going to pretend it didn't happen because I don't know. We weren't in the same circles, but I'd have to say he definitely knows what's going on in his circle. Nobody I associated with on the team was a steroid user [among the players Stewart mentioned: Carney Lansford, Rickey Henderson, Dave Henderson and Dennis Eckersley].

ESPN tried to portray Stewart as being unsure in his answer, but he actually provides a rare thoughtful—and telling—answer. He’s not going to out anybody if he doesn’t want to. He’s Dave Stewart. He won three pennants in a row. But it’s not hard to read between the lines and see what he’s saying. While he makes it clear that he thinks Canseco’s a tool, he won’t in clear conscience dismiss what he says. And he’s probably right.

This book release is just the kicker. Watch the slugs scurry when the rocks start really getting turned over.

Pitchers and catchers report tomorrow. Not a day too soon.

By Mike D.