Forever In A Jail Cell

Back in 2002, when video surfaced depicting a man who looked very similar to R. Kelly giving a golden shower to a 13-year-old girl, radio stations throughout the country immediately pulled Kells music from their playlists. And while those same radio stations were quick to spin Kells records once he resumed recording better songs than, "Heaven I Need A Hug", at least they took a stand.

Fast forward to 2009. Another R&B star is embroiled in a nice little scandal. So after spending a weekend listening to terrestrial radio, I found myself appalled that radio stations continue to play Chris Brown songs.

There are some things I have absolutely zero tolerance for. Among those include people who beat up on women, people who beat up on kids and people who beat up on animals.

So why this little punk Chris Brown gets a pass is reprehensible. Technically, he's "innocent until proven guilty". But seriously. Everyone knows what he did. He knows what he did. If Brown didn't, he wouldn't have hired Mark Geragos (they guy who represented one of the all-time biggest pieces of shit, Scott Peterson) as his attorney.

Now people make mistakes in life. So I can see (could never personally understand) how a guy with a short fuse could lose it, hit his lady and immediately show remorse for doing so.

But what Chris Brown did to Rihanna is so far beyond that. He beat her bloody. And Brown clearly displayed no hesitation in continuing to pummel Rihanna after she enlisted her personal assistant to call 9-11.

We want this little rat boy's crappy music in our ears?

Something is seriously foul when the Dixie Chicks get chastised for speaking the absolute truth, but for so blatantly disrespecting women, Brown seemingly faces no repercussions from program directors across the country.

I Like To Play Games

Lately I've been at a loss for words (not true, but what I'd like to write is probably not suitable reading material. So for fear of "Jumping The Shark", I'll keep it to myself).

But to keep the loyals entertained, I figured we could run a little contest and see what happens.

Just supply the best caption for the image below.

Winner gets an autographed Griffey picture, signed by ME!

Rebirth

After spending two weeks with no link to the outside world, I returned to my beloved Seattle only to find a far different city than the one I left.

Ken Griffey Jr. is a Mariner (tears in my eyes as I type that). The Washington Huskies Men's basketball team are Pac-10 Champs (tears in my dad's eyes). And the Seahawks signed T.J. Whosyourmomma (tears in the eyes of that crazy guy with the frizzy hair who slams his hands on the padding for the entire game in the south end zone seating area.

Back in November, Seattle's sports pulse was akin to Tony Soprano's after Uncle Junior popped him in the stomach. Things could not have been worse.

And it's not just about sports. Last Thursday's Raphael Saadiq concert at The Showbox exceeded my lofty expectations. (Although my attempt to record it on my phone turned into my first live album. Let's just say me singing, "The cutie pies they all think they can always l-a-y on my pillow" damn near ruins the song). The-Dream's new cd, "Love vs. Money" is the best R&B album to come out in years.

On TV, Big Love is winding up another polygamistly explosive season. Also, Breaking Bad (arguably the best show on TV), just kicked off its second season.

Yes, I'm completely glossing over the economic turmoil the world is embroiled in. But as I advocated in November, we're better off focusing on the positive.

Because even with all the crap going on, there are still plenty of things to make us smile.

Welcome To Heartbreak

I feel like I got dumped.

Maybe it's just me, but I could have sworn Ken Griffey Jr's imminent return to Seattle took up the entire front page of the Seattle Times sports section last Friday. I'm also pretty sure that I spent way too much time listening to the blow hards on KJR 950 AM rant and rave about how great it would be to have Griffey back.

Am I living in some alternate reality?

While I was cautiously anticipating disappointment once the Atlanta Braves got a jones in their bones for Junior, I couldn't have imagined feeling this bad.

It's like Junior left all over again. Seriously.

This is like your favorite ex-girlfriend deciding she wants to get back together, only to call you up right before a dramatic reunion to say she's going to marry some douche bag who drives a white BMW 323i and wears white linen party shirts.

Atlanta? Atlanta? Atlanta? I've always hated the Braves. Jeff Blauser. Terry Pendelton. Dave Justice. I'm going to puke.

Just because the Braves screwed the pooch on John Smotlz, doesn't mean they need to hijack the most beloved athlete in Seattle sports history.

Atlanta won't appreciate Junior. They didn't appreciate the Braves making the playoffs for 14 straight years.

This entire deal is foul. Junior is going to platoon with Matt Diaz? That's like telling Prince he's opening for Miley Cyrus.

Now I understand that this was ultimately Junior's choice. True to form, he chose family first. He did it originally to get to Cincinnati. He's doing it again now. But we were so close. The Mariners made space for Junior in their spring training locker room!

With my visions of a glorious summer spent at Safeco watching the greatest player of our generation now dashed, I ask all fellow Griffey supporters to remember this:

For 11 seasons, we witnessed one of baseball's all-time best in his prime. Cincinnati can't say that. Chicago sure as hell can't say that. And Atlanta won't be able to say that. We were lucky to have him and have the incredible memories Junior gave us.

But it would have been nice to have a few more.

There's a line from the Stevie Wonder song, "Rocket Love" that sums up how I'm feeling:

You took me riding in your rocket gave me a star
But at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back
down to this cold, cold world

Now please excuse me. I need a good cry.

A Dream Fulfilled

I wrote this last week, when Junior appeared destined to return home. I sat on it, for fear that sharing my thoughts before a contract was signed would ultimately jinx the entire process. Nevertheless, I figured I should share what might have been.

John Kinsella: Is this heaven?
Ray Kinsella: It's Iowa.
John Kinsella: Iowa? I could have sworn this was heaven.
Ray Kinsella: Is there a heaven?
John Kinsella: Oh yeah. It's the place where dreams come true.
Ray Kinsella: Maybe this is heaven.

My alarm should go off any second now. Earth Wind & Fire's, "Love's Holiday" will jump start me from my slumber and I'll realize I'm having a repeat dream - the one where the Mariners bring back Griffey.

Only this appears to be happening. Ken Griffey Jr., the greatest player to ever wear a Mariners jersey is coming home.

The cynics will say this is a publicity stunt and Junior and the Mariners will break down early in the season, en route to another 100-loss campaign. But what if this team clicks and plays up to its potential? What if Felix Hernandez, Erik Bedard and Brandon Morrow pitch up to their respective potential and form a potent top of the rotation trio? What if Franklin Guttierez, Yuniesky Bentancourt learn that pitchers don't have a one pitch per-at-bat limit? And what if Junior follows his old man and puts together a great end to a great career?

The 2009 Mariners aren't as bad as most are making them out to be. Are they playoff contenders? Probably not. Will they be competitive? Absolutely.

This is about righting a wrong. This is about redemption. This is about fathers and sons connecting. This is about doing something for the love of the game. This is about the joy you felt when you bought your first 1989 Upper Deck Griffey rookie card.

Griffey should have never left. He knows that. The Mariners know that too(there's a relatively in- depth back story to this that I won't get into).

Most greats don't get to end their careers this way. MJ was a Wizard. Brett was a Jet. Willie Mays was a Met. Those don't even read right. It's like if Springsteen decided he was going to front Styx.

Griffey was, is and always will be a Mariner. Griffey is Seattle. Griffey is the best.

I've waited nine years. This is an absolute dream come true.

Maybe this is heaven.

Would I Lie To You?

Leave it to good, old Pay-Fraud to tell us what we want to hear. Or not.

Alex Rodriguez's admittance of using steroids for the years 2001-2003 is classic Pay-Fraud. He said what he believed people wanted to hear. But that's not the whole story. It simply can't be. Pay-Fraud is a professional liar. There was a time when he said wanted to spend his entire career as a Mariner. Well maybe he would have if $252 million didn't get in the way.

Regardless, for a guy who before he got caught, vehemently denied using steroids, and generally acted as if they didn't exist, there is no reason to believe Pay-Fraud ever stopped juicing.

On Monday, Pay-Fraud told Peter Gammons,"When I arrived in Texas in 2001, I felt an enormous amount of pressure. I felt like I had all the weight of the world on top of me, and I needed to perform, and perform at a high level every day."

Really? Because playing in New York is as laid back and care free as a Jack Johnson concert.

Pay-Fraud is the best compensated athlete on the planet. Why should we believe that he's not hopped up on the most advanced, undetectable roids available?

Pay-Fraud went on to say this gem of a quote when asked about what substances he took, "I'm guilty for a lot of things. I'm guilty for being negligent, naive, not asking all the right questions. And to be quite honest, I don't know exactly what substance I was guilty of using."

That's actually a fairly common cop out for those who've been outed for roiding (Sheffield, Bayroid, etc.). But let's clear the air on this.

When you're at a bar or a club, singing along to "Don't Stop Believing" and having a great time checking out 7's and 8's that really are 4's and 5's with the lights on and no alcohol in the system, and your buddy slides a foreign looking shot in your direction, you always ask what the liquid fire you're about to ingest is. Always.

So for Pay-Fraud to not know what he was taking is a flat out lie. He knew exactly what he was taking and he knew exactly what it would do.

It's been proven that the more advanced steroids don't just help with recovery time, but they also improve vision and reflexes. In a sport like baseball, the difference between 0.1 seconds and 1/4 inch on the bat ultimately separates warning track power from a home run.

What Pay-Fraud admitted to Monday isn't the entire truth. It's naive to think this professional liar laid it all out. It's not like Pay-Fraud voluntarily confessed. He was backed into a corner.

There is much more to this story. Loose lips sink ships. Someone wanted this information to get out. People will continue to talk.

Like Barry Bonds before him, Pay-Fraud now inherits the scrutiny that will come with every single home run hit from this point forward. It's only natural (or unnatural) that the man chasing Bonds' tainted home run record will embark on, and possibly break what used to be the most recognizable number in sports.

Play ball!

Everybody Hates A-Fraud

Chalk another victory up for that Woodward and Bernstein protege, Jose Canseco. Say what you want about the guy who recently faught Danny Bonaduce to a draw in a boxing match, but Canseco called this one long ago.

The Sports Illustrated report claiming that Alex Rodriguez tested positive for steroids in 2003 is one more bean ball to Major Leauge Baseball's already concussion filled skull.

Does this really come as a surprise? It's like walking out of Notorious and having a shocked look on your face that Biggie got popped.

Pay-Fraud is arguably the most disingenuous athlete in sports history. He stands for greed, ego and the quest to accumulate the most awe inspiring statistics. He's Bernie Madoff in pinstripes (the Yankee kind, not the jail suit kind Madoff will be wearing)

While Pay-Fraud hasn't undergone a Barry Bonds 32-pound head transformation, there is a considerable difference between his physique as a rookie and his current Vin Diesel-esque biceps.

With his reputation and legacy forever tainted, the best thing Pay-Fraud can do is be honest. The absolute truth is the one thing that every single major figure in the steroids scandal has avoided. The truth could very likely put Barry Bonds, the game's all-time and single season home run king and Roger Clemens, formerly the winningest right-handed pitcher of the live ball era, in jail cells.

If Pay-Fraud were to come out and admit he's used steroids since 2003, be candid and remorseful, then offer to take weekly tests to clear his name from this point forward, that would be a good first step.

But we know Alex all too well. It's almost a sure bet that he'll either (a) deny he ever took steroids (b) challenge the validity of the positive test or (c) attempt to throw Derek Jeter under the bus and imply Jeter uses steroids too.

There was a time when baseball's legends loomed large over the sports landscape as true icons - Babe Ruth, Jackie Robinson and Hank Aaron to name a few.

Now, that field is littered with broken syringes, inflated statistics and records that shouldn't belong to the record holders.

This isn't just another sad chapter in baseball's ongoing struggle to rid itself from steroids, it's a sad chapter for sports and a sad chapter for anyone who ever aspired to be "like" an athlete.