Sorry to get all baseball on you, but this is one got me thinking.
Manny Ramirez, left fielder for the Dodgers, was banned 50 games for his use of a performance-enhancing drug.
And now for the million dollar question: What was the drug? Go!
Me: Yes- guy in the front.
Guy in the front: Was it some kind of 'roid?
Me: Oh no, that would be predictable. You there, in the back.
Lady in the back: Was it some kind of growth hormone? Like, for apes or something? Because some of these men are really apes...
Me: What? No! Jane Goodall? How did you get in here?
Look, I don't know why I'm having you guess - it's almost as ridiculous as having you guess what my middle name is - you'll never get it (unless you already know, which at this point you probably do -- about the drug, not my middle name). It was a female fertility drug, human chorionic gonadotropin (hCG), used to treat polycystic ovarian syndrome and to facilitate ovulation.
Is Manny not a Manny?
I read on. Apparently, it is also typically used by steroid users to restart their body's natural testosterone production as they come off a steroid cycle.
He says he was using it for an undisclosed medical condition, and the media frenzy continues.
The point is it's people like Manny who have ruined it for the rest of us. Manny was probably the type of kid who, because he was jumping up and down and not sitting still, spilled his chocolate ice cream all over the new beige couch. Right after his parents took the plastic off, too. After that, Manny and friends were no longer allowed to eat their ice cream on the couch and had to eat it on the floor. They tried desperately to keep it away from the family dog, but spilled it all over themselves in the process. One of them probably looked at Manny with disgust and said, "see Manny, you ruined it for the rest of us!" A fist fight broke out and everyone beat Manny up. As he walked away from his former friends, ice cream-less and with a black eye, it was the first time Manny considered using performance-enhancing drugs. It was not the last.
I don't think the rest of us, however, would trade places with Manny Ramirez. Sure, you'd have a lot of money (I mean a LOT). If you're into bad press and bad hair, you'd be in luck to be Mr. MR (still talking about Manny Ramirez here, not Mr Mister). But what wouldn't you have? Self-respect and pride, sure. The ability to say you didn't cheat, definitely. But, most importantly, your primary concern would be how to spend the money you earned by cheating and NOT what do I do with my old business cards or what can I do with these corduroy pants. You wouldn't be able to make lemons out of lemonade because you would be too busy being the lemon.