Pitchers and catchers report for duty this week.  Several big name sluggers, such as Manny, Dunn and Abreu have not yet found work in today's economy.  Other great baseball names, such as the Big Hurt, Ray Durham, and Junior Griffey aren't even getting courtesy phone calls from teams this winter.  The Yankees have thrown around their usual funny money, while everyone else in the league pinches their pennies.  Our very own Cubs have a chance to do something they have only accomplished one other time in their history - win their division three years in a row, but yet most of us are down because of the nagging feeling that we could have done more.  Teams such as the Angels, White Sox and Red Sox seem to have come back to the pack a bit, and other teams, such as the Pirates, Nationals, Rangers and Mariners do not see to have a chance anytime in the foreseeable future.

Football is over; the NBA has fallen back to the niche outlet that it was before Jordan, Magic and Bird, and the NHL is and will always be for Canucks and wanna-be-Canucks.  This ought to be one of the best times of the year to talk baseball, and what's number one on the charts?

Freakin' A-Rod and his five-year-old piss.

He isn't a Cub - thank God, because there were a few times he could have possibly ended up here.  He may be the most talented ballplayer any of us have ever seen.  There isn't any particular baseball skill that he lacks.  But he's never won anything.  He's been traded twice, and nobody left behind has shed a single tear.  He seemingly has no friends in the game.  He was born in America, but he is of Dominican descent, and has lived there at times in his life.  Neither country wants to claim him, and especially when you consider how openly the D.R. canonized the charming and delightful Sammy Sosa, you must take that into consideration.

Yes, kids, I used the adjectives for Sosa with all the facetiousness I can muster.

He looks like a freak.  Not a swollen Michelin Man like Bonds or Sosa, but like some refugee from Top Model with his makeup and lip gloss.  Ever since he broke in, there's been all sorts of conjecture about his "humanity" away from the game, the manner in which he has conducted himself in the "relationship arena" does nothing to clear things up for us.  Madonna?  Really?  If he is already categorized by one and all as an strange-looking, arrogant, aloof weirdo who acts like he sleeps in a space pod, why would he go and seek out one of the ten other people on this whole planet who might be even more arrogant and haughtier than he?

If I saw A-Rod on the street, I would turn and run the other way.  Or maybe I would freeze perfectly still, in hopes that maybe his velociraptor brain might not be able to process my presence.  I can't even IMAGINE how his teammates feel about undressing in front of him every day.  I'd be afraid that he might smell my blood and try to gut me.

This has nothing to do with the Cubs, except for the fact that I now thank God every night that A-Rod does not rock the Blue.  And this has little to do with baseball, except that he is the highest paid performer in the sport, and even considering all his faults, misgivings, and pecadilloes, you could always at least grudgingly give him some credit for playing clean.  But, it appears that even that little bit about him is as phony and fake as the rest of him.

A-Rod?  I gotta tell you buddy, I hope that some agency picks up this little post today and puts it out there for all to see.  Because as much as I want to see MY ball club win, my second biggest wish in all of sports is for you to just.  Go.  Away.  Forever.  You and Bonds and McGwire and Sosa and Michael Jackson, just go to Dubai or someplace far, far away where they can hook you up to the special machines where they feed you vampires human blood or whatever it is that you crave to get through your days, and just go away and be the pets of some trillionaire sultan, and never be seen above ground ever again, and just leave us the hell alone.

A-Rod, we hate you!