What we read while halting our nuclear development program…
What we read while A-Rod asked Russia for temporary asylum…
What we read while learning about quad strains…
What we read while blood doping with Lennay Kekua…
Mark McGwire picked a good week to publicly admit using steroids. Between the Conan/Leno stuff, the NFL playoffs, and Simon Cowell leaving American Idol, one of baseball’s most-anticipated steroid confessions almost got swept under the carpet. Almost.
The reaction to McGwire’s admission has been surprisingly negative. I may not be the best judge of reactions to steroids, but I would have thought an unprovoked, damningly complete (since he admitted using during his record-breaking 1998 season), and heartfelt apology from someone as once-beloved as Mark McGwire would have been greeted with something more akin to a sigh of relief. After all, this revelation is not exactly stunning. At least the issue is finally out in the open.
Instead, people have picked the apology apart. The main problem with it, apparently, is McGwire’s insistence that steroids were not what made him a great hitter. This is, admittedly, pretty laughable. What is McGwire’s explanation for how he was able to hit home runs at a rate higher than anyone who has ever played the game? Well, apparently God gave him magical powers: “I truly believe I was given the gifts from the Man Upstairs of being a home run hitter, ever since…birth.” He goes on to talk about how he’s been a home run hitter at every level of play, since before he took steroids: “My first at-bat in Little League was a home run…They still talk about the home runs I hit in high school.”
This is, of course, absurd. Nobody gives a shit about McGwire’s Little League career. McGwire was not a surefire HOFer because of the home runs he hit in high school. And the fact that he hit 49 home runs as a rookie—while impressive—wasn’t enough to make some consider him the best right-handed hitter of all-time. What made Mark McGwire “Mark McGwire” were his feats of strength from 1996-99. And those numbers were undoubtedly a byproduct of the steroids he was taking. Continue reading
“Sarah won. I’m glad we have someone that motivated and excited to be here on our team. God knows the rest of us want to shoot ourselves in the face.”—Dunbar
“Every time I win, I keep stacking the salad.”—Cohutta
Unfortunately, Cohutta’s salad is no more.* His massive bank account of over $18,000 was targeted by Darrell, who seemed unflappable in the elimination. Last week, we found out that he was a boxer, and now it’s revealed that he’s a personal trainer as well. It’s not all that surprising, then, that he was so calm while suspended above a tank of water holding 40 pounds of weights.
*Seriously, though, how cool are that guy’s idioms? Last week he talked about what kind of “shimmy” he had. This week he referred to money as “salad” multiple times. God, I’ll miss him. He added a whole new reason to watch the show.
It was more surprising, however, that Sarah was also so calm and collected. She hardly flinched while Johanna struggled to stay above the water and finally succumbed to the pressure. So now the teams remain technically even, if very lopsided in the boy/girl ratio. Continue reading