frontpage hit counter

Mr. Unlucky’s Almanack

Do the aphorisms and observations of Benjamin Franklin and his Poor Richard still apply, or are we beyond hope and salvation?



A month into their self-proclaimed coronation as the greatest team since–oops, much greater than–the 1927 Yankees, reality once again caught up with the Los Angeles Dodgers.

When news flashed through our office yesterday morning that Manny Ramirez had tested positive for performance-enhancing drugs and been suspended 50 games, I shouted, "Now, we know how he did it all these years." His exposure as a phony leaves only one big man standing–Albert Pujols. Will his Emperor’s Clothes come off next?

Typical of the recently exposed, Manny was quick to issue an apology–for taking medication for a "private" medical issue that his doctor prescribed but which he (Manny) and presumably the doctor didn’t know violated Major League Baseball’s drug policy. Oh, yeah, and for $24 I’ll sell you Manhattan.

In a press conference, General Manager Ned Colletti praised Manny for taking "ownership," especially since it wasn’t his fault because he didn’t know what the prescription was!

Manager Joe Torre, whom I used to respect, spent way too much time babbling on and on about, well, you know, everyone is human and we all make mistakes.

Victor Conte, who used to steroidize Barry Bonds (who with Roger Clemens, of course, would never knowingly touch the stuff), quickly pointed out that the Mannian substance, HGC or human chorionic gonadotropin, is used to restore sperm count and bring one’s gonads back to life after abuse of steroids.

Now, we know the sad truth–Manny Ramirez had no balls!

Sadly, we also know that the Dodgers are full of crap from head to toe–from owner Frank McCourt to GM Colletti to Manager Torre.

Manny can’t play again until July 3, but the Dodger brass, instead of realizing what a sham their team and organization have become, will no doubt plaster the town with billboards and radio spots starting in June announcing, "Only two weeks till Manny returns!" "Only five days till Manny-mania fills the city!"

Barf, puke. Let’s hope they’re irrevocably in last place by then, and Manny can’t even reach the warning track when he’s off steroids. (Of course, HGH is available to all, and baseball looks the other way.)

Bookmark and Share

Email This Post Email This Post


You Might Also Like:

Posted in Almanack Musings |

Leave a Comment

Please note: Comment moderation is enabled and may delay your comment. There is no need to resubmit your comment.