JOSH HAMILTON, GOD, AND SPECIAL POWERS

God is talking to athletes again. Before watching Jacoby Jones take his position as a kick
returner during the Super Bowl, Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis went over to his
teammate and rubbed his hands down his chest. The San Francisco 49ers special teams unit
then parted like the Red Sea and Jones  ran nearly untouched for 108-yard kick-off return.

Lewis then went up to his special teams coach and said, "God told me to touch Jacoby and
looked what happened." I don't know if Lewis should be a candidate to be the next Pope or
take a seat next to the guys on those Bud Light "Superstitious" commercials who feel by
sitting how and where they do, gives them the powers to do special things---like make their
team win.

On Wednesday, new Angels outfielder Josh Hamilton arrived in camp 20 pounds lighter than usual and it all happened because of divine intervention:

 

"The Lord kept waking me up in the middle of the night over a month and every time I'd wake
up there'd be a doctor on [TV] talking about what you put in your body and how it makes you
feel," Hamilton said. "And then the juice lady was on. It was like, all right, I always pray the Lord will help me feel better. Well, that's all great, but am I doing my part? Now its time for me to do
my part."

That's right, the Lord made Hamilton sleep walk right into commercials about the juice lady.
Good, Lord. A few months ago, I kept waking up at 2am every day for about a week. I'd turn
on the television and see Jim Lampley wearing those hipster glasses with no-lenses all the time.
Was this a sign from God for me to start wearing the black-rimmed glasses to jump start my
broadcasting career? How did I not see the sign? How dumb could I possibly be? God was
talking to me and I just didn't see it! I'm going to Amazon.com to get me a pair right now.
Look for me anchoring "SportsCenter" next week.

I'm really starting to believe that God is a huge sports fan and really likes athletes more than
the rest of us. I mean, two years ago, he told Albert Pujols to take the $250 million from Arte
Moreno and be an Angel. I just wonder what Pujols would've done if God wanted him to be
a Pittsburgh Pirate. Pujols would've looked just great in the black and gold. But when God wants
you to be an Angel (and a very rich one) you must follow the yellow-brick road to Anaheim.

Last June, former USC defensive back Kevin Ellison torched his bed and turned his apartment
into a towering inferno. When asked by authorities upon his arrest for arson why he did it, Ellison said, "God told me to." Ellison also texted his friends that night saying he was Jesus
and the second coming.

I'm really starting to wonder if Ray Lewis and Josh Hamilton have God on speed dial or have
Him as one of their five favorites on the cell phone plan. Those two guys talk to their Almighty
one more than Manti Te'o spoke to his dead girlfriend that didn't exist.

I was sitting in church on Wednesday waiting to get my ashes for the start of Lent. I stayed awake
long enough to hear the sermon by the priest which was very informative and compelling. The
priest said that God prefers that people pray in private and refrain from putting their faith on
display. He said the Lord's followers should not boast of their relationship with the Almighty
One and put everything out there for all to see.

I'm just wondering if God told all these athletes the same thing,  or perhaps, they're
just not getting the message.

BEFORE LEBRON JAMES BECAME KING

Long before LeBron became King James, he was "The Chosen One." In 2002, Sports Illustrated put a 17-year old kid on the cover and anointed him the heir to Michael Jordan's throne as the best player on the planet. The basketball God's had seemingly taken all the talents of Magic, Michael, and Bird and instilled them into this prodigy from Akron, Ohio.

Shortly after gracing the cover of Sports Illustrated, James was booked to appear on "Countdown To Signing Day", a college basketball recruiting show on Fox Sports Net which I hosted for several years in Atlanta. James was projected to be the sure-fire number one player taken in the following year's NBA draft, so there was no way in hell he was ever going to put pen to paper and sign a letter-of-intent to play college basketball.

However, Scott Alexander, the executive producer of the show, convinced James to fly to Atlanta to appear on the signature program of the network. Of course, Alexander had to agree to pay for the flights of two of James' friends, as well, because after all, when you are "The Chosen One", one must have a small posse, even if you are just 17.

James arrived for the show on time, but quickly chided Alexander for not sending him first-class plane tickets, the first sign that we had a real live diva on our hands. Alexander responded, "LeBron, you're not going to ever have to worry about flying anything but first-class next year."

I must admit, I didn't know a whole lot about James before meeting him. The recruiting show was one of five I was doing on a day that took me from 10am to 2am and I had covered so many of the "next Jordan's" in my career, that I wasn't particularly phased by "The Chosen One."

I can't say I was too impressed with his wardrobe for his appearance, either. James showed up in a Chicago Bulls jersey with half of Mr. T's starter kit around his neck, and his hat turned backwards. The kid flies all the way from Akron to be on a television show and he's wearing that?

I guess when you're the "Chosen One", you can choose whatever you want to wear. I kiddingly said to him, "If you want to change into your coat and tie, the dressing room is just the hall." Of course, he looked at me like I had three heads with a spike protruding from the middle one.

When James got on the set and we proceeded with the show, he was poised and pretty polished, except for the fact that he was slumping over just a bit in his chair. He did look like a 5-year old in his uniform sitting next to Bobby Cremmins, the basketball coaching legend, who acted as our analyst. Cremmins, with his gray-white hair and stylish wardrobe, certainly made him look a lot older than he really was when sitting next to James

I felt ridiculous asking him where he might be attending college, but after all, this was a college basketball recruiting show and it needed to be asked. For the record, James said he was looking at UNC, Duke, and Ohio State. But it was like A-Rod saying he wasn't going to use steroids again. You just knew it wasn't going to happen.

After the show was over, James posed for photographs with many of the employees who came to be a witness to greatness. I don't normally pose with any athletes, much less one who is just 17-years old and has yet to play a game of any significance, but I put down
my guard because I had a slight feeling that he just might live up to all the hype some day and it would make for a great keepsake.

James certainly did, but it wasn't all that easy. I'm not a big NBA and rarely watch games, however, I did watch his ascent to greatness with a keen eye. When he left Cleveland the way he did, with the whole "Decision" fiasco, I can't say I was surprised. When you're called "The Chosen One" at just 17-years old and have been coddled all your life, all sense of reality can be lost.

I thought back to the time when he got upset with our producer because he didn't get to fly first-class and felt his behavior regarding the "Decision" was just an extension of that. I don't really think that LeBron had a problem with the coach tickets  he was sent, but I think his friends got in his ear and said, "You  are King James, you should be flying first class. Don't let them disrespect you like that!"

Every time James opened up his mouth and said something stupid, I cringed. But again, he lost all sense of reality years ago when Sports Illustrated put him on that cover and proclaimed him "The Chosen One." When he got on that stage in Miami and predicted the Heat would win maybe 5, 6, or 7 NBA titles, I nearly lost my cookies. James bought into everything that had been said about him and forgot to get a filter for the things that came out of his mouth

But James learned the hard way. He became one of the most hated athletes in the country simply because of his arrogance and the way he handled things. James has gotten much better at the public relations game and has taken his game to an entirely different level, one in which few athletes, not even Jordan, have ever gone before.

James has grown into more of a social activist while helping thousands of kids in
his hometown of Akron. He has pledged more than $40 million to ensure that high
school seniors who qualify, go toe the University of Akron for free. There is no
bigger voice in basketball and few athletes in the world wield the power that
James does.

He is no longer "The Chosen One", but rather, "King James". It's still a little too much, however, that's the way of our sports world where we deify athletes and then try to tear them down. It's not often you can say, "I knew him when..." but it does make me chuckle a bit when I think of the time I met him back then.

TOP 10 MLB PLAYER EXCUSES FOR STEROID USE

10.  SAMMY SOSA Remember when Sosa got in front of Congress and was asked about
       using steroids. "I speak no English. I no understand the question. Ask McGwire."
       Well, the part about asking Big Mac wasn't true, but the rest of it is. Classic, Sammy.

  9.  MANNY RAMIREZ  After getting busted in 2009 for high-levels of testosterone,
       Ramirez claimed his doctor "unknowlingly" prescribed him a female fertility drug. I
       hate when my primary care provider does that to me.

     
  8.  RYAN BRAUN He's turning into the Lance Armstrong of baseball. Lie, lie, lie,
       or just blame it on somebody else. In 2011, his drug test showed extremely high
       levels of testosterone. The former National League MVP blamed it on the FED EX
       man who didn't get it to the lab on time, saying the chain of command was broken.
       Now, the Milwaukee Brewers star says, yeah, he visited the clinic in Miami, but it
       was just to get intel for his appeal back in 2011. Oprah? Oprah? I think you're needed.

   7. ANDY PETTITTE The Yankees pitcher's name showed up in the Mitchell Report and
       he was, at one time, the best friend and workout partner of Roger Clemens. He said
       he received HGH injections just twice to heal his elbow faster, which, by the way, is
       cheating, no matter how you slice it. Pettitte said he felt, "obligated to return to the
       team faster." Zzzzzzzzz.....yeah, right.

     
   6. BARRY BONDS. The steroid-fueled home run king admitted that he took something
       that Victor Conte, the mad scientist who also pumped up Jeremy Giambi and a cast
       of thousands who came to the BALCO labs for his magic potion. Bonds said he
       "unknowingly" rubbed some cream into his skin, which knowingly made his head
        grow to the size of a pony keg.

   5. PAUL BYRD. Former pitcher who played for the Indians and Mets was outed
       in the Mitchell report for using HGH. Byrd said it was prescribed by a doctor for
       a pituitary tumor. Byrd couldn't name the doctor, nor locate his pituitary gland.

   4. GREGG ZAUN Former major league catcher who also showed up in the Mitchell
       Report was tagged by Kirk Radomski, supplier to the stars, who said he personally
       injected Zaun. When asked about a check he wrote to Radomski, Zaun said it was
       probably used to cover a gambling bet. Good one, Greg.

  

  3.  GUILLERMO MOTA After flunking a second test, the veteran pitcher was facing
       a 100-game suspension. I guess Mota felt he had to be really creative. He blamed it
       on his child's cough medicine, which he said contain a banned substance. Really?
       Nice try. The 100-game suspension stood.

   2. RAFAEL PALMEIRO Remember when Palmeiro wagged his finger in front of
       Congress and said, "I have never used steroids, period." Right, and the head of
       Barry Bonds grew like a chia pet because he was drinking protein shakes. Palmeiro
       eventually flunked a steroid test then threw teammate Miquel Tejada under the bus
       Palmeiro claimed that B-12 Tejada injected him with, must have been tainted. Wow.

     
   1. MELKY CABRERA. After getting busted last year, Cabrera had an associate
       create a fake web site that advertised supplements. Cabrera said he bought those
       supplements off the site and they just happened to contain a banned substance.
       Until Roniah Tuiasosopo came along, Cabrera had the most warped imagination
       the sports world had ever seen.

ROB GRONKOWSKI: FOOTLOOSE AND FANCY FREE

Rob Gronkowski has a passion for at least two things we are certain of: football and dancing.
Unfortunately for him, he only excels at one of them The All-Pro tight end of the New England showed up on TMZ.com again dancing like a clown on crack, bare from the belt buckle up,
his left arm in a cast, enjoying life in Vegas.

Last year, after the loss to the New York Giants in the Super Bowl, "Gronk" was caught on
camera dancing like a fool also. At least, Bill Belichick won't have to worry about Gronk
showing up on "Dancing With The Stars", because he looks like a drunken scarecrow on
the floor.

Gronk was criticized then and he's being harpooned now. Media critics and unofficial and
unpaid experts are shouting out loud that it's time for the 23-year old cult hero in Boston to
grow up. They say he has to think about the team and be a professional. I say, let the Gronk
be Gronk. His carefree style, outgoing personality, and performance on the field have already
made him a legend around New England. Does everybody on the team have to have the
personality of a cigar store Indian?

In three seasons, Gronk has caught 187 passes, with 38 of them going for touchdowns, the
most by a tight end in his first three seasons in the NFL. Everybody knows that a healthy
Gronkowski is a game-changer, trouble is, he hasn't been able to stay in the line-up and this
is one of the reasons why they feel it's time for Gronkowski to reign himself in.

Forget about that. People can moan all they want when Gronkowski doesn't produce, but
to criticize him for having some fun after the season is over is absolutely ridiculous. I realize
he has a broken arm and he's doing moves normally scene in the WWF or E or whatever
it's called these days, but let the kid be. What is he doing? Dancing? Please.

Seriously, how many NFL players have ever gotten hurt on the dance floor. Emmitt Smith,
Jerry Rice, and Donald Driver did pretty well and never got hurt through their countless hours practicing for "Dancing With The Stars" and a lot of their moves were more dangerous than Gronk's.

I realize Gronk has been a magnet for controversy off the field. There were the pictures on
Twitter of he and porn star Bibi Jones and he's photographed with his shirt off more than
Matthew McConaghey. But so what? I know he sometimes gets photographed out partying
with biking-clad women, but he's single and not pulling a Tiger Woods. Gronk is not showing
up on the police blotter or in celebrity rehab, either.

Man, Mickey Mantle used to have a great time when he played, too. The Yankees legend
chased woman and drank all night, but nobody had a problem with him when he was belting
50  home runs while driving in 120 every year.

It's not like Gronk is skydiving or trying to do 360's on a snowmobile in the X-games. He
is dancing. Big deal. Oh, I know all the folks in New England are calling for him to be
more professional and act "the Patriots Way". First of all, how has the "Patriots Way" been
doing since their last Super Bowl win in 2004? Oh, sure they win a lot of games, but they
haven't won anything in a long time. AFC Championships are for the Buffalo Bills to
revel in, not the Patriots.

Gronk is harmless and he is definitely entertaining. He's also a stud who has changed the
tight end position. Linebackers can't cover him and he opens up the passing game for
Tom Brady and the Patriots. They might have gotten to the Super Bowl if he didn't re-break
his arm. But injuries happen in the NFL, they rarely ever happen on the dance floor.

Gronk is living life and enjoying it. So what, what's wrong with that? Oh, right, every player
in the NFL is sitting on the couch just so they won't get hurt. Please. I know that Belichick
and Robert Kraft will tell Gronk to turn down the dial, but as long as he keeps producing
like he does on the field, I don't think they are going to demand he make any lifestyle changes.

The NFL is all about production. You either produce or you don't. It's that simple. Tim
Tebow can walk the straight and narrow, but that hasn't really helped him be productive,
has it?

Let Gronk be Gronk. He's living his life the way he wants. Just keep living yours the way
you want.

UNC BASEBALL IN 80'S: NICKNAME U

Major League Baseball is dressing down this weekend with their stunt of allowing players to
wear their nicknames on the back of their uniforms. Very interesting, but I don't think any of
the teams can match the nicknames of the UNC baseball teams more than 30 years ago.

The baseball program at UNC in the early 80's was like the Bronx Zoo South. It was crazy,
fun, and always entertaining. The team played hard, winning three consecutive ACC titles,
and laughed even harder. Every day was like "Animal House" and "Comedy Central" combined.
We were the  "idiots" long before Kevin Millar, Johnny Damon, and Manny Ramirez made it fashionable in Boston.

The clubhouse wasn't for the faint of heart, though. No matter what class you were in or how
well you performed on the field, you were open to teasing and  serious  abuse. It just came with
the territory back then.

I often joke with a  former teammate that if some of the stuff from back then happened in
today's  quick-trigger lawsuit and politically correct world, there would be arrests, payouts, and penalties from the NCAA. It went far beyond a PG-rating.

We were definitely a cast of characters loaded with talent, but also filled with an array of personalities from the strong to sophisticated, serious to the downright comical. And anyone
who came through the doors of the program, usually left with a nickname that stuck with them forever.

Everybody had a nickname, even the father of our coach, Mike Roberts. A 70-something man
who bore a striking resemblance to those California raisin caricatures, Mr. Roberts was "The
Bark Man".  Every time he talked, he sounded like a dog in heat with a muzzle on. Arrrr, arrrr,
arrrr, arrrr. "The Bark Man" name fit him to a T. He also owned a lumber company which had
a lot to do with it, too.

There wasn't a formal system for tagging people with nicknames the way they did in
"Animal  House." There wasn't a "Flounder" or an "Otter" and nobody asked why a certain
nickname was chosen. It was just because--- and it always stuck

Paul Will was a heavy-set first baseman from Newark, Delaware. Everything about him was big.
His legs, his gut, his head, and appetite were extra large.When he went though the line at the
training table, he supersized everything long before McDonald's made it part of its menu. He'd
fill a Vince  Wilfork-sized bowl with a  million fries. So, he became "Paul Will Bowl-of-Fries", which got shortened to bola fries, or just bola.

A few players had multiple nicknames. Doug Torborg, a lefty pitcher out of New Jersey,
looked like he was almost made of plastic. His hair was perfect and he spent a lot of time in
the mirror making sure he was all buttoned up. He became "Mr. Make Believe", which was
shortened to just "Make". Torborg got tagged quickly during orientation week when we played
baseball all day and drank at night. Torborg always complained that he felt like the "bed
was spinning" when he woke up the next day. So, of course, he became known as "bed spins."
Not Doug, not Torborg, but "bed spins."

Jon O'Leary, a barrel-chested outfielder who was one of the best batting practice hitters in the
history of college baseball, got stuck with a few nicknames he wasn't too enamoured with.
O'Leary minored in baseball at UNC but majored in eating. If it wasn't nailed down, Johnny O
ate it. He was known as "Snackbar McPortals" or "Johnny Canteen". Whenever we approached a
Shoney's restaurant on a road trip, Mike Jedziniak would yell out "There he goes!" as O'Leary
made a b-line to the front of the bus to make sure he was first in the buffet line. There wasn't
much left for anyone else after Johnny Canteen was finished loading up his plate. O'Leary once
complained to Jedziniak about his nickname and Jedz responded, "Too bad, that's what we're
calling you."

Chris Mench was usually the master of the monikers, tagging anybody in his path with creative
and often unflattering nicknames. Mench was known as "The Big Cheese". His head was the
size of pony keg. If you tapped it, suds would probably come flowing out. But the size of his
head had nothing to do with his nickname. He called himself the "Big Cheese" and I'll just
leave it at that. Most of the nicknames the "Big Cheese" gave out were X-rated, which
unfortunately, means I can't put them in print.

My favorite nickname of all-time was "Yard Bird". This was given to Mitch McCleney, a
second-baseman who spent at least six, possibly seven years in the program. Somebody
thought he looked like a yard bird, so McCleney became known simply as, "Yard Bird."

Al Taylor, a popular teammate from Natick, Mass. had a plethora of nicknames. He was
"Grinch", "Slate", and "Sack Exchange." Bill Robinson, a tall, lanky pitcher from New Jersey
was the "black momba" long before Kobe Bryant showed up on the scene. Robinson was also
known as "Snake", "Bridge" and "Q-tip" after the tiny head that rested atop his broad shoulders.

Walt Weiss, the former manager of the Colorado Rockies, also had a very small dome. His head
was so tiny and shaped like a peanut that he had to tape the adjustable strap on his hat to make it
small enough so it would say on. Weiss became known as "The Peanut Man."

Jeff Hubbard, a talented third baseman, who was a cross between Tom Sellick and the Marlboro
man, only knew four people on the team. They included B.J. Surhoff, Walt Weiss, Jedziniak, and
Nora, the smoking-hot team trainer. Funny thing, Hubbard never had a problem remembering her
name. Everybody else to him was either "Yo", "Dude", and "Hey".

During one game, Hubbard, who drove around campus in a Porsche 911, was trying to get
the attention of a freshman pitcher he never even noticed before. He turned to Weiss at
shortstop and  asked, "What's this guy's name?" Weiss didn't know either so Hubbard, known
as "Marv" after  the Oakland Raiders fullback, yelled out, "Hey, Butch". And a new nickname
was born. Ken Turner became forever known as "Butch." Not sure if anybody ever even
knew his real name. He was just "Butch."

There were other classic nicknames like, "Minnow man", "Mushroom," "Lid", "Hawks",
"Jar head", "Thermometer", "Black Bird", "Newborn," and "Crow." There are many others,
but Father Time has sapped a bit of my memory and I've forgotten more than a few of the
classic other ones that existed.

Look around major league baseball, and you'll notice that great nicknames have pretty much
become extinct. Oh, sure, there was A-Rod, A-Gone, and A-Hole, but those took no effort and
lack creativity.

Great ones were part of UNC program during the 1980's and it sure made for some rip-roaring
funny times.

BILL BELICHICK: THE NFL'S BIGGEST LOSER

Class guy. Those two words have never followed Bill Belichick. Not in New

York. Not in Cleveland. Not even in New England where he turned the Patriots

into a model franchise. 

Belichick can be condescending, insincere, and to  many people who have

covered him during his NFL career, the word prick often applies. On Sunday night,

many viewers uttered that word after James Brown of CBS said that Belichick 

declined a request by the network for a post-game interview. It was classic 

Belichick, who earned his sore loser reputation long ago.

Last year, after the Patriots lost to the New York Giants in the Super Bowl,
Belichick gave NBC the Johnny Heisman stiff arm when they asked for an
interview. Then when he went to the mandatory press conference, Belichick
gave one word answers and the impression that he'd much rather go
through a round of water boarding torture at Abu Ghraib, then be forced
to sit through a media session where he was peppered with questions about
the game.

After losing to the New York Giants in the Super Bowl in February of 2008,
Belichick headed to the locker room with seconds to go in the game and
didn't bother to shake the hand of Tom Coughlin. Classic Belichick.

Belichick is one of the best coaches in the history of the game, but unlike
Tom Landry, Chuck Knoll, and Don Shula, class or graciousness are not
part of his DNA. I understand that he hates to lose, who doesn't. But his
repeated boorish behavior is getting old. The Hoodie wins more than 70
percent of his games, but when he loses, watch out.

He becomes like the petulant child who just saw the neighborhood bully
steal all his toys from the sandbox. Whaaaaaaaaa. He sulks, doesn't sob,
but makes like somebody just sucked the life out of not just him, but
the entire world.

If you talk to the folks in Cleveland who covered Belichick during his
days with the Browns, they'll probably tell you that Belichick is Lance
Armstrong without the lies, EPO, testosterone or cortisone. He treated a
lot of people badly and made a lot of lives miserable.

I'll never forget my first experience with Belichick during the early 90's. I
was a pup cameraman who was shooting one of his press conferences after
another Browns loss. A local reporter asked Belichick about blowing a
fourth-quarter lead and BB responded, "F&*K you, Jason." That one is hard
to forget. It was my welcome to the NFL moment.

I covered Belichick and the Patriots during the 2005-2006 season when they
rarely lost. But when they did, Belichick made like he was about to be led
to the cross with a thorn wreath around his head. Just an unpleasant guy,
but then again, that's how he was after winning, too.

I admire and respect Belichick for what he has done as a coach. He is pure
coaching genius. I get that. He gets paid to win games, I understand that. I
realize that the decaying of our society began a long, long time go and words
like class, dignity, and respect don't mean all that much anymore. But Bill,
you win all the time. I understand you're not always that happy in victory,
but please, try to show just a little class and graciousness in defeat. Nobody
wins all the time, not even you.

I AM A STEROID

I am a steroid. Roger Clemens says I don't help with throwing a baseball. The
Rocket is partially right. Anyone who gets to the Major Leagues has great mechanics
and knows how to throw one. I help in throwing it harder, faster, and longer. Do
you really think Clemens could throw 95-miles hour at the age of 44 without me?

I am a steroid and I can create jealousy. Barry Bonds saw all the attention Mark
McGwire and Sammy Sosa received during the Summer of '98 when they were
launching missiles into orbit and baseball immortality. That's when he started to
be my best friend. He had never hit more than 49 home runs in his career, but I
helped him hit a ridiculous 73 of them in 2001.

I am a steroid. Use me correctly and I can help you recover faster. Former Los
Angeles Dodgers closer Eric Gagne converted a record 84 consecutive save
opportunities. Do you really think he could've come back from throwing 95-mile
hour fastballs day after day without my help?

I am a steroid. I turn line drive hitters into local legends. In 2001, Luis Gonzalez
hit 52 home runs, now keep in mind, Hank Aaron never hit more than 44 in
a season. I know Aaron, and Gonzo is no Hammerin' Hank. The former Arizona
Diamondback said his new found power came as result of a stretching program.
Really? Stretching? And Rafael Palmeiro said his failed drug test came as a
result of a tainted B-12 shot injected by teammate Miquel Tejada. LOL

I am a steroid. I can extend your career and help you post amazing numbers.
Willie Mays hit 81 home runs after the age of 38. Barry Bonds belted 149 after
the same age. Damn, I am good!

I am a steroid. There will be side effects when you friend me. I put a bad case
of acne on Mike Piazza's back, while instilling thunder in his bat. The kid was
a 60-something round draft choice out of college with little power. He finished
his career with the most home runs of any catcher in the history of the game.
Any questions?

I am a steroid. Sports writers hate me. They say I cheated the game and made
the most sacred of records, worthless. Most of them will tell you I actually helped
save the game with the McGwire-Sosa home run duel in 1998, but now they
don't want me anywhere near it.

On Wednesday, they made a big statement by not letting some of best my friends
into the Hall of Fame. Some of them will get there eventually, just not now.