Dear Alex Rodriguez

Dear A-Rod,

or A-Roid
or Ster-Rod
or A-Fraud.

I wanted to take a minute to thank you for destroying my faith in Major League Baseball. You see, Mr. Rodriguez, you were supposed to be the one who brought dignity and legitimacy back to the Hall of Fame. You were the chosen one. You were baseball's Messiah. You were baseball's Neo. You were the Anakin Skywalker of professional baseball - you would bring balance to the record books.

Instead, you have brought shame and grief upon America. Michael Phelps may have made some mistakes, but he, unlike you, was not a cheat. No, Alex, the pain you have caused America is different. Amidst an economic crisis, you have cheated your way into making over $500 mil. Amidst the steroid crisis, you stood firm and tall, representing all that is good and pure about America's pastime. Like many others, I had thought that the time to put the Steroid Era in the past had come. I had taken a liking to the premise that within the next 10 years, Barry Bond's Home Run Facade would have been broken by a legitimate athlete. That was supposed to be you, Alex.

I'm not sure which song is song is more appropriate for you, A-Fraud.

Tainted Love, by Gloria Jones:


or Ice Ice Baby by Vanilla Ice