It was back in the 90’s when Fay V. was “commish,”
A clean game of baseball was his ultimate wish.
He saw the potential for the game to go bad,
He warned of expulsions for the drug-using lad.
A few years would pass and the long balls were flying,
As the skeptics and purists were secretly crying.
Sammy and Mark were among the league leaders,
Some like yours truly just surmised they were cheaters.
A guy nicknamed “Cammy” gave SI bad news,
He claimed he took drugs that were stronger than booze.
“Steroids are rampant,” said Ken Caminiti,
He later would die on the streets of the city.
And then there was Barry with his monstrous home runs,
His head had grown bigger–as well as his “guns.”
In 2001, Bonds re-wrote history,
He didn’t hit 60–he hit SEVENTY-THREE!
He’d pick a good pitch and proceed to uncoil,
He denied steroid use–it was pure flaxseed oil!
He’d pass Henry Aaron and his numbers turned heads,
He became such a villain–did he lie to the “feds?”
He may do hard time–yes, he’ll no longer play,
Perhaps Bonds will share a small cell with O.J.
A man named “The Rocket” got better with age,
He was mean to Piazza–a sign of ‘roid rage!
It was Roger and Brian and tons of denials,
Needles, syringes, some gauze pads and vials.
McNamee spoke–did he fear for his life?
He said he “shot” Roger–as well as his wife!
And then there was Pettitte–said he used it just ONCE,
Truthfully, Andy, do you think I’m a dunce?
McGwire and Sosa–yes, they went to D.C.,
They came off as weasels–as clear as can be.
And Mr. Canseco–he was called “way off base,”
He said steroid use was all over the place!
Ridiculed, bad-mouthed, Jose took it all,
As players got bigger and records would fall.
Excuses, excuses–and man, are they lame,
In upstate New York should be a new Hall of Shame.
It was A-ROD and Sheffield, Giambi and Pettitte,
The Yankees were dirty–but some fans forget it.
And Torre knew nothing–put his head in the sand,
While guys did more drugs than an 80’s rock band.
And now we hear A-ROD was ingesting the “dope,”
This stuff’s more bizarre than a CBS soap.
When A-ROD’s at-bat, we all should yell “Fraud!”
And then turn the channel–perhaps a rerun of “Maude.”
“Advanced training methods” was always their “shtick,”
Some should do time just like one Michael Vick.
The owners are guilty–as is head honcho Bud,
For knowing these players had “juice” in their blood.
The fans are still watching–still applauding these bums,
With me, I see homers–then reach for the Tums.
The union’s pure evil and condones criminal acts,
To them it’s ’bout MONEY–to hell with the facts.
Don’t worry, just cheat–that’s the message they send,
You CAN break the rules–it’s a means to an end.
Mr. Fehr, Mr. Orza–when you’re not at a meeting,
Do you secretly scheme to find NEW ways of cheating?
It’s ’bout gaining an edge–yes, regardless of rules,
If there’s money to be made, the union just drools.
I’ll soon see these players as they walk to the plate,
And I’ll think about scandals like the famed ‘Watergate.’
These guys have grown bigger–and sign contracts with glee,
It reminds me of storylines from the WWE.
They’re cheaters and liars–they ALL should be busted,
And meanwhile us ball fans become more disgusted.
They’ll take HGH and then tell us they’re clean,
It’s no longer “baseball”–do you know what I mean?
I’ll still recognize all those homers by Aaron,
As these idiots keep cheating while truly not carin’.
I long for the old days when the players had GUTS,
They didn’t take short cuts–or put needles in butts.
I’ll focus on great ones–yes, players like Mays.
Who didn’t shoot up but made excellent plays.
I know that us sports writers–we sometimes get wordy,
Even more so when talking ’bout men who are dirty.
And now as I close I will offer you this,
It’s become such a “freak show”–it’s BASEBALL that I miss.