As a rule, I don't spend a lot of time writing about Major League Baseball. Why? Well, to put it simply, I prefer to remain at a safe distance from the game - that distance being metaphoric, not physical. Trust me, if I had the money, I'd be sitting atop the dugout at Shea - I mean Citi Field - every chance I got.
What I mean is this: when it comes to basketball, football, golf, tennis, etc., I have lost the ability to remain a loyal, diehard fan of a single team (well, except maybe the Knicks). I've come to enjoy the spectacle of the sport itself so much that I can't pledge allegiance to a single team anymore. This is by no means a bad thing; actually, it makes the viewing experience more enjoyable by taking away the utter despair of watching your team get crushed by a superior opponent.
But baseball is - and will always be - different. I love the Mets. And to assure myself that this fanship of the boys from Queens is never sullied, I stay away from talk radio and the commentary in the New York Post. Obsessive talk about salary cap, restricted and unrestricted free agents, who's unhappy with their production, etc. - it's the stuff that pushes me toward being a certified sports-junkie-journalist type and away from being a happy and ignorant fan.
That being said, I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel an unconquerable urge to speak my mind on the Alex Rodriguez - or, as I've taken to calling him, A-Roid - steroid scandal.
Am I surprised? Absolutely not. Am I upset? Not especially. Do I think what he did was wrong? Yes and no. Yes because he excelled at the game with the help of performance enhancing drugs. No because Major League Baseball, as an organization, to this day has not owned up to its Major League Involvement in the steroid era.