Reams of paper and almost three hundred billion megabytes of electronic space have been devoted to Barry Bonds chasing Babe Ruth and Hank Aaron in the all-time home run race. I, meanwhile, am dropping out of the discussion; I won't waste any more breath or keystrokes on this appalling human being. I think the guy cheated, but my opinion doesn't really matter a whole lot in the big scheme of things. If he can sleep at night, more power to him.
I do, however, think that this story offers a bit of poetic justice, especially since San Franciscans are the only folks left on earth still cheering for him. In the realm of "happy coincidences," the fact that the radio call of the "historic" home run cut out mid-swing surely falls under that category. Hee.
***
Unrelated to Bonds, really, is the story about Lance Armstrong being cleared of doping allegations leveled after the 1999 Tour de France. Hooray for all that - here's the story - but there's a larger issue at hand here:
With the exception of former major-league player and coach Rusty Kuntz, Dick Pound is the greatest name in sports.
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Please note: My policy at Bramble Tamble is to not use real names for private citizens. I hope you will adhere to this policy; hell, it's my only rule here. (But you can use your own real name if you'd like. Cause I'm magnanimous like that.)