"MLB needs two leagues
Barry Bonds is close to breaking Hank Aaron’s career homerun record — to the chagrin of many fans due to his alleged use of performance-enhancing substances. These same fans were cheering wildly when Mark McGuire and Sammy Sosa’s swelled bodies were slapping dingers with ease and consistency. So how can we clean up baseball and maintain the homerun excitement?
Divide baseball into two leagues.
The current MLB becomes the realized fantasy of every pundit and sports writer that ever chastised the current condition of modern sports. Athletes are strictly monitored on what they put in their bodies. All players must agree to a salary suburban fans feel is the correct amount of money. The players are also responsible for being role models, reassuring youth that hard work, nine hours of sleep, prayer and a diet of green vegetables are the keys to success.
A typical day at the ballpark includes $5 milkshakes and mandatory autograph sessions. No alcohol. The league sluggers hit 15 homers a year while they struggle to hit the ball over the wall 419 feet away, promoting better field play.
With a whopping 2,500 in attendance, a father and son sit a few rows above the home team’s dugout, taking in the grandeur of baseball played the way God and Abner Doubleday intended. The father puts his arm around his son’s shoulders and says, “Son, I’m glad you had a chance to see baseball in its purist form. There’s nothing like the crack of the ash wood bat, smell of the fresh-cut infield and the camaraderie this great American game brings between dad and son. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Screw you, Pops. These guys are lame. I want to be like Uhg the Lambaster when I grow up.”
In the distance from this father/son dispute, a roar of adulation can be heard. Another baseball game is being played on this summer evening across town. Bright spotlights shine into the sky around the state-of-the-art stadium filled with 80,000 spectators; another sold-out crowd to see the Bad Boys of Summer put on the best show the XMLB has to offer.
X-treme Major League Baseball abandoned all regulations on performance enhancing drugs, creating a kind of game unlike anything ever imagined. All previously standing records have been shattered and are barely even considered milestones in a player’s career. Pitchers have nearly broken 200 mph with arms held together by bovine sinew to prevent them from ripping off their bodies. A few unprepared batters are killed each year by errant pitches, but those who survive can accomplish amazing feats, now that everyone in the league is treated with various combinations of steroids and other once illegal proteins and hormones.
The adulation tonight is for the league’s icon, Uhg the Lambaster. Standing at 7-foot-4 and tipping the scales at 520 pounds of poorly distributed flesh, Uhg possesses two records in the XMLB. One is the single-season homerun record standing at 287, and the other is his career record of 1,249 homers amassed over his long five-year career. He is the most popular and highest-paid player in the league, commanding the first billion-dollar salary in sports history.
The fans in attendance are exceptionally excited tonight for this is the final game of Uhg’s career. The team doctors simply could not support the monster they had created anymore.
In the bottom of the ninth, bases loaded and down three runs, it is Uhg’s time to bat. He slowly lumbers toward the plate and gazes at the pitcher catatonically. The pitcher nods in agreement with the catcher’s sign, winds up and hurls a blazing fastball. It zips by Uhg and squarely hits the catcher’s swollen hand — strike one.
Uhg’s manager leaps out of the dugout to call time. He approaches Uhg with a leather doctor’s bag and removes a long hypodermic needle. The needle, filled with a synthetic adrenaline and barbiturate cocktail, is jabbed deep into Uhg’s chest. The drug causes Uhg to reanimate with a howl.
Uhg glares at the pitcher with raw hell in his eyes. With hope and a prayer, the pitcher delivers a fastball to his catcher’s glove. Uhg swings his bat. A deafening crack startles the crowd as the ball shoots over them like a rawhide missile. The ball flies out of the park, flies over the tallest buildings and out of the city.