
Twinkle, twinkle little star. How I wonder what you’re on.
Welcome to Major League Baseball’s 2006 All-Star game, where every home run, every 95mph fastball and every strained muscle is met with the question; “You think he’s on the juice?�
1999 seems like ages ago, doesn’t it? That’s the summer the All-Stars came to Fenway Park. What an amazing couple of days, and I was so mad at myself.
You see, as a season ticket holder, this member of Red Sox Nation was entitled to two tickets for all the events. Alas, as a member of a capitalist nation, I felt entitled to sell those bleacher seats to a broker, which I gleefully did for the ridiculous price of $825…each!

It was a decision I regretted long before chills ran down my spine as the greatest hitter of any day, Ted Williams, was carted onto the field, long before Pedro Martinez made the greatest hitters of that day look more helpless than the Splendid Splinter.
Nope, I already regretted it Monday as “superheroes� Big Mac and Slammin’ Sammy launched balls into the night sky, each seeming to travel farther than the previous one, disappearing in the dark as we could only wonder where they landed. The Mass Pike? The Citgo sign? Outer space?
Just a few short years after the crippling strike, baseball was back, bigger than ever, with the long ball leading the resurgence and MLB celebrating that resurgence with a show of power Stalin would be proud of.
We were all fooled, me more than anyone. “Something’s up,� I’d tell people. “There’s no way an object could travel that far without help. The ball must be juiced.�

Turns out the powers that be knew the truth all along. Oh, they’re trying to cover it up, but the facts will come out. There’s too much money to be made selling books, and if there’s something we’ve learned, it’s that athletes will do anything for the almighty dollar, even inject substances that will eventually destroy their bodies and kill them.
Go back and scan the rosters from that 1999 game. How many players are suspected of “juicing?� Of those already convicted in the public eye, “BALCO Boys� Bonds and Giambi were missing, but Gary Sheffield was there to represent. So was the “Congressional Contingent� of Canseco, Palmeiro, Sosa and McGwire.
What a pathetic group they were that day in the nation’s capitol, too cowardly to fess up, instead attacking Canseco for being a rat, pointing fingers to declare their innocence while lying under oath, or pretending not to understand English. Saddest of all was McGwire, looking like a sniveling child, such a far cry from the mighty slugger in the batter’s box that July night at Fenway.

So here we are, seven years later, another All-Star game and its surrounding festivities upon us. Only this time, we know better. The childlike innocence has been replaced by grown up cynicism, the oohs and aahs following long balls giving way to guffaws following jokes about HGH standing for How Giambi Homers.
Congratulations Bud Selig, Donald Fehr and everyone else associated with baseball. Enjoy your celebration. Just do me a favor. When you introduce the players and rundown the accomplishments that got them there, be sure to include the information we really want to know.
Like, how does a guy strain an oblique muscle chasing a pop fly?
What are your thoughts on Major League Baseball's All-Star game? Does it still seem as special as it did when you were a kid? Did the steroids scandal ruin it or simply the fact we're getting older?