Following a defiant seventh-round knockout of previously unbeaten Jose Pedraza (22-1, 12...
Jose, I Can See!
The former St. Louis Cardinal slugger finally confessed to prolonged steroid usage in his career — in an attempt to prep him for an eventual greasing into the Hall of Fame.
Now that his worthless ass longs to get a pass from an environment which enabled him to achieve records without ridicule, everyone around the sport wants to be forgiving.
I betcha Pete Rose saw this coming!
While McGwire got the slo-pitch lob from that anal orifice Bob Costas, his one-time teammate, Jose Canseco, was a Bashed Brother in the media. Canseco’s books, “Juiced” and “Vindicated” took the sheet off the use of steroids in baseball – and he was subsequently vilified for it.
Called everything short of a child of God, Canseco was pegged as a bitter ex-player; a has-been whose word was worthy of imprisonment.
In reality, however, it’s everyone else in baseball that should be in fucking jail; because if the effort to clean up the so-called “Steroids Scandal” was to round up all the guilty parties, it would be akin to the Internal Affairs Division of the local police arresting their own officers.
How many paddy wagons would it take to round up every Baseball Writers Association of America (BBWAA) member – and throw their ass in the hoosegow? Count back at least 30 years and you’ll see collusion and culpability up the Wazoo.
When Congress convened the first time, the gesture was hollow, but the premise was right; get everyone up there to testify about steroids – the problem was, the wrong people were subpoenaed.
Former San Diego Padres general manager Kevin Townes knew at least one of his star players was taking steroids. Third baseman Ken Caminiti put up Most Valuable Player numbers in 1996, and Townes watched the fans run through the turnstiles – he didn’t say a fucking thing. I wonder how hot that Bible would’ve been if Townes’ hand had to hit it before cross-examination?
And let’s be real here – if one (GM) knew, two knew; the Texas Rangers’ Tom Grieve tried to jump in Canseco’s ass for being a “rat” – but couldn’t get around what Canseco wrote in Juiced being the truth.
Hey, Jose has never been sued for slander or libel — and he only spoke on guys he was in the locker room with — never on anyone else on any other team; showing far more journalistic ethics than those who wrote about his downfall.
Where are the so-called beat writers, those paragons of virtue like Mitch Albom, a jackass who apparently has the power to predict the future by writing stuff before it even happens, or Tim Kurkjian, who chirps incessantly about character, yet helped screw an ambassador of baseball like Buck O’Neil out of the Hall of Fame?
Peter Gammons, Buster Olney, that punk-ass Bill Plaschke-all these muthafuckas; because if they were as much “insider” as they imply, they would be privy to that knowledge as well; if they say they didn’t know, then why the fuck would you be paying them to be “insiders?”
Giving the public some of that valuable information under oath may help the politicians to reconsider some of those anti-trust goodies that Major League Baseball loves so well…
And, of course, Brat Selig is missing in action; smugly smiling the George Bush smile that says, “I’m an untouchable – you can’t fuck with me!” as the band plays on.
Only Jose Canseco produced evidence that he was on the up-and-up about his steroid use. McGwire got a pass and while some criticized him, it was never on the level of vigor or vitriol as was in attempting to persecute Barry Bonds, who is still seen as a pariah in the wake of two hacks named Williams and Farinu-Wada, who wrote “Game of Shadows” with information which was obtained illegally, to paint Bonds as the face of steroids; rather than the Bunyanesque redhead who lied his ass off!
If, as has been his record so far, Canseco remains consistent and correct in his revelations, the notion about a recently inducted Hall of Famer may possibly produce another confession down the road.
For what it’s worth, Jose Canseco has done more for baseball — and journalism — than Mark McGwire or anyone who writes about him will ever have.