It's on this blog. I wrote it. I called him a cheater. Andy Pettite and Gary Sheffield and Jason Giambi. Cheaters. And let's not forget Roger "throw my wife under the bus" Clemens. Big cheater. Manny Ramirez. Cheater. And now David Ortiz. Cheater. Does this news forever change my opinion of the man who has become a folk legend in New England, our beloved Big Papi?
Listen, I'm not saying anything that Dan Shaughnessy didn't say better in his column yesterday. Let's face it, that magical 2004 season, breaking the Curse, and the lovable Idiots are forever sullied. They now wear asterisks on their chests. Cheaters. Does this make the bloody sock any less bloody?
Yankee fans must be licking their chops right now. Not only are they on the top of the AL East, but after five years of listening to Red Sox babble and bluster, riding around on our high horses and spewing verbal diarrhea about "the greatest comeback of all time," "the biggest choke in sports history," they can finally look back at us and say, with complete legitimacy: But The Red Sox cheated. Does this justify breaking out those old "1918" signs stowed away somewhere in their cellars?
The Red Sox just acquired Victor Martinez. Does this even seem to matter now? Do Big Phony's two home runs the past two nights have me scratching my head, thinking, Here's a slightly below average hitter in 2002, again a below-average hitter 2009, taking a couple of lucky pokes? Does this taint the entire season, perhaps an entire era of Red Sox baseball, the ridiculous Red Sox Nation, and the even more obnoxious amount of money this organization cashes each year pandering to assholes like me, who more than anything, just wanted to see The Sox win a World Series in my lifetime?
No. Yes. Yes.
You really stuck it to us, Big Phony. I hope your share of Humble Pie tastes as bad as mine, but I tend to doubt you even care. After all, you're a cheater.