Celebrate Nothing

The inevitable happened last night.

I was waiting for it, dreading it, hating it, and disgusted by it. But it finally happened.

Alex Rodriguez hit number 660 last night.

Ugh.

Let me not mince words here, this makes me sick. Just because I knew it was coming, doesn’t lessen the blow at all. The biggest cheater and piece of garbage in the history of our game just passed one of the all-time legends in career home runs, Willie Mays.

Let that sink in. You grew up hearing about Mays. You’ve seen highlights of the catch, you’ve heard your father and your grandfather talk about him being the greatest baseball player there ever was. And now you get a front row seat to watch A-Rod disgrace his legacy.

Was 660 already tainted because of Barry Bonds? Probably. But that was his godson. Mays more or less accepted that Bonds was going to pass his career HR total, and made it easier for the rest of us to accept it because he seemed more or less okay with it.

But have you heard a word from Mays about Rodriguez? Any congratulations? Anything? Yeah, neither have I. Silence speaks volumes.

I’ve actually heard people suggest that we should celebrate this. That his achievements are still noteworthy, even with the steroids mixed in. That’s absurd. Every record he breaks means absolutely nothing and will be forever tainted. I actually saw a few people giving him a standing ovation last night.

The only standing ovation I’m going to give is for the next pitcher who throws a fastball at this guy’s face.

 

 

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