The Rooster

It’s been several years since my passion for sports was at its peak. I can remember being a little kid absolutely infatuated with stars like Michael Jordan, Ken Griffey Jr. and Emmit Smith. I can remember the MLB players’ strike of 1994 and explaining to my parents that the New York Yankees would never go on strike; neither would Griffey or Frank Thomas. I obviously didn’t know how strikes worked. That was a time of absolute innocence, when ballplayers were gods and Jordan was Zeus. I didn’t know about steroids, insider gambling or the arrest records of my idols. I’m not sure if sports have changed, or if I’ve just gotten older and less na’ve, but it just doesn’t seem the same anymore. I can only imagine what a written letter to my favorite athletes would look like if I were 8-years-old again.

Dear Superstar Athletes,
You guys are awesome, and I want to be just like you someday. A-Rod, you’re my favorite. But my mom says you need to get off the juice or else your wiener is gonna be smaller than Madonna’s. I don’t really get mom because she gives me juice everyday.
I wish Roger Clemens and Barry Bonds would come back; they are both really good at baseball. Mr. Clemens, my dad says that you should stop putting so many needles in your butt, but the doctor put one in mine just the other day, so I wouldn’t worry about it. I like you Mr. Bonds because you remind me of my favorite cartoon, Pinky and the Brain. You look like the Brain. You’re head is so big!! It’s funny.
I like Plaxico Burress too. I watch the Giants every Sunday with my uncle Rick. Where have you been, Plaxico? Rick said you shot yourself with a gun. Didn’t you ever go to a hunter’s safety course? You should never point your guns at people, and always keep the safety on. It seems like you guys have problems with guns a lot. How do you ever kill a deer if you’re always shooting each other? Maybe you don’t like venison.
Finally, to my favorite team in the world, the New York Yankees!! I won’t be coming to any games this summer. My dad says tickets are too expensive because you guys are money hungry pigs. I told him that you guys would play for free if you could. Right? Anyways, don’t worry. I’m saving every allowance I get so I can buy my own tickets. See you guys when I’m much older, and just don’t give a crap anymore.
Sincerely,
Your Biggest Fan.

Don’t get me wrong, I still love professional sports. I’m just tired of the baggage that comes along with the games.
I’m so tired of hearing about drugs, cheaters, contract disputes, Terrell Owens (and his jackass of an agent, Drew Rosenhaus) and every athlete who wants his cut without earning it first.

If I had an 8-year-old, I’d have him stuck in front of the TV for as many of these NCAA basketball tournament games possible. So far, it’s the only sport that has yet to disappoint me in my life. Let’s just hope the song remains the same.

Bold prediction: Louisville bows out early, Michigan St. and Missouri make runs, and UNC slips past Syracuse in the Elite 8.

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