Smitty City

I am a devoted sports talk radio listener and have been for a lot of years (I am partial to Colin Cowherd on ESPN radio @ 10 a.m.). But I'm pretty sick and tired of hearing about Bonds, Giambi, Bonds, Sheffield, Jose Canseco, Mark McGwire, and Barry Bonds. When I'm driving to pick up my new bread maker at William Sonom...uh...my new tool at Sears, I don't want to have to hear about whose hat doesn't fit because their head has inflated. My stance on this issue is twofold. Either you give every single player every single test there is...every single week, or you make every single steriod completely legal so all can reap the benefits fearlessly. There is no middle ground, however, if the baseball commission chooses the middle ground...then we will always waste a part of our day listening to baseball comentators wildly clubbing at Secretariat's grave. BRASS TACKS: If a player...any player...denys using steriods yet refuses to take a drug test for whatever reason, he is guilty. There is no gray. Barry, you don't want to take a drug test...okay...you're using. Giambi, you will not pee in the cup because it violates your privacy as a player...no problem...you're using too. Every polywog player who will not take a easy step to clear their name is juicing. Besides cheating the game, your fellow players, and the fans...having to enter a stall with a fellow behemoth that has his pants around his ankles is enough for me to stay clean. That's just repulsive. And you know that the receiver has to bend over just a tad...but I digress. Everyone needs to hit up the mall for a Griffey jersey, because those hamstrings of his will be the first to tell you that he's clean. I'm out.