Well, I just read some comments by the legendary "Goose" Gossage about one of his counterparts that got my blood boiling. Sports of course are populated by athletes who are human beings. Sometimes it's easy to forget that fact as a fan or casual observer. It's easy to view these individuals as machines at times. Some of these athletes compete in very noble fashion, and we collectively idolize and admire their respective levels of sacrifice and dedication in their efforts to challenge themselves to achieve greatness. In most sports, competing alone isn't enough and winning is everything. Man is simply obsessed with victory. Winning is the foundation of sports mythology on which every sport is based; be it a sport that pits man vs. man, man vs. animal, man vs. nature, man vs. him/herself, or a combination of all the above. The drive and dedication to overcome insurmountable odds and rise to the top, is the vehicle that drives all sport. All sports require a blend of acquired skill, knowledge, and inherit ability. To truly excel at any sport requires years of dedication and practice, until the learned skills become instinct. Some individuals work hard to hone their respective levels of skill, while others rely on a seemingly limitless amount of inherent ability (or even other more dubious methods, we'll get to that later). It is my contention, that this later group, with the seemingly limitless ability become media darlings. They are then over-hyped, over-blown and overrated. Their fan base grows and they become larger than life itself. This of course detracts the attention of humanity from those that are truly deserving of the recognition of achieving greatness. Fans of these false idols accuse the detractors of their heroes of espousing hate and being overly critical in an attempt to tear their false heroes down to build others up. This is total BS, as it's just calling the truth as you see it. It is with that in mind(and the fact I?m kinda bored) that I've decided to share with the board collective, my list of the biggest frauds in the history of all sport. We'll start with the biggest fraud on the planet.......
1) Saccharin Ray Leonard: This clown started out with the silver spoon in his mouth. By stealing the gold medal at the 1976 Olympics from the guy who should have won it with a vulgar display of "style over substance", the Saccharin boy brings home the Olympic gold and instantly becomes the love child of the boxing media. Ray then turns pro and selects Angelo "flick the jab, and run like hell" Dundee as his trainer. Ray beats up on the first twenty-five cadavers (not counting Pete Ranzany, whom I actually like)
that Dundee feels confident enough to place the Saccharin boy in the ring with, padding the hell out of his record. Saccharin Ray gets his first real test and world title shot against Wilfred Benitez, who's only real claim to greatness is that he was a world champ at a young age, 'cause in reality, he's a paper champion and is ripe for the taking. Ray beats Benitez in a dull and boring fight, and this would indeed set the standard for Ray-Ray. Being dull and boring in the ring while acting like the second coming of another Sugar Ray outside the ring. The media of course, eats this up and plays up the Saccharin boy. Ray begins to believe the firestorm of horsecrap about himself, that the media has created and decides to step up in competition. Ray then climbs in the ring with Roberto Duran, and "The Hands of Stone" pulverize Ray. Literally kicking his ass up one side and down the other. Ray just plain gets clobbered by Duran.
Dundee however has the solution: "I know how we can beat Duran." He says. "Don't think of it as running, think of it as effective evasion." BS. Ray then rematches Duran and runs like no man has ever run before. Duran quits on his stool at the end of the 7th, in the Famous "No Mas" fight. The Saccharin addicted media doesn't buy Duran's legit reason for quitting: "I came to fight, he came to have a footrace." and immediately begins to rewrite history with a myriad of reasons on WHY they feel Ray made the Panamanian brawler quit. My favorite is the misguided theory that Duran became constipated prior to the fight while he was struggling to make weight, and then really had to go in the 7th round. This is a bunch of revisionist, conspiracy theory, advanced by the Saccharin crowd so that they can say that their false idol, literally beat the crap out of Duran. More horsecrap.
The ray-ray for Ray media then begins to suggest that Ray should unify the world welterweight belts and silence his critics by fighting Thomas "The Hitman" Hearns. Ray immediately suggests that he isn't feeling to good(suffering from an acute case of the bigchickenitis syndrome is why...) until it's revealed that the Hitman is having trouble making weight and goes for a week starving and dehydrating himself prior to his last fight. Now all of a sudden Ray is feeling better and wants to fight him. Go figure. Tommy absolutely schools Ray for 14 rounds making him the recipient of a brutal technical boxing lesson. In the 14th round, Tommy begins to tire from kicking Ray's ass all night long and the referee prematurely stops the fight. Ray gets his first gift decision. The entire boxing public including the Saccharin crowd, is screaming for a rematch. Ray doesn't give him one because he knows he lost and would lose again. Ray then needs to build his confidence back up and fights a stiff named Kevin Howard. Howard floors Ray in the third, but recovers and manages to hang on and beat this nobody because he sucks ass. Even the Saccharin addicted fanatics worry about the outcome of this fight. Realizing that he's about to be exposed as a fraud, Ray reveals that he's had a $5000 a week cocaine habit and is also supposedly suffering from a detached retina from his last fight and his vision is failing. There has never been any proof of the detached retina, and it's my contention that Ray's vision was failing and he found this odd, because his drug dealer failed to tell Ray that if you do that much coke, your vision is bound to get a little cloudy. Ray thankfully retires to deal with his personal problems.
In 1986, Marvelous Marvin Hagler fights John Mugabi and he looks totally shot. His handspeed is gone and his feet have slowed. After the fight in an interview with Al Bernstein, Hagler states: "I think this is gonna be my last fight. Would you miss me if I left?" These are the MAGIC words to the Saccharin boy. Hagler started calling Ray out in 1982 and Ray was ducking him. Ray NOW reveals that he wants to fight the Marvelous one and that God has healed the detached retina. Either that or he had laid off the drugs long enough for his vision to come back. In this fight Ray does so much running, you'd think he was trying to get a Nike contract. Hagler gets fleeced by the judges who were either Saccharin addicts or think they were supposed to be judging a footrace. Hagler retires as Ray refuses to give him a rematch because he knows he got a gift decision.
The Hitman fights later that year and he also looks to be totally shot, in his latest fight against James "The Heat" Kinchen. Ray now finds the courage to give him a rematch also. Tommy kicks Ray's ass bigtime, flooring Ray twice. The corrupt judges are there for Ray again, and he gets another gift decision and the fight ends in a draw. BS. Ray then manages to steal two more titles from Donny Lalonde when the lure of big money convinces Lalonde to agree to Ray's terms and come in at 13 lbs under the limit for the fight. Ray's reign in fraudulence" ends at the hands of "Terrible" Terry Norris when Norris kicks his ass.
Bottom line: Saccharin is just plain bad for you.
2) Dennis Eckersley. When you ask any longtime A's fan what their vision of the word "dominant" is they'll probably tell you that an image of the Eck-boy looking in at the batter, pointing, and then pumping his fist like he was some kind of a world-beater, is the hallmark image of A's baseball domination. With that in mind, let's take a look at the alleged HOF career of this particular clown.
The Eck-boy's career gets off to its start as a starting pitcher for the Indians. The Eck-boy enters the league with some wicked stuff. A blistering, tailing fastball and an exploding slider. The Eck-boy even manages a "no-no" in his days with the Indians his stuff was so good. The problem is the Eck-boy is a two pitch hurler with no command. Some days he found the plate, some days he didn't. When he released the ball, no one knew where the hell it was going, not even the Eck-boy himself. The Indians then pawn his ass off to the Red Sox, and the Eck-boy somehow manages to gain some control and posts a 20 win season his first year in Boston. From there it was all downhill in Boston for the Eck-boy and he went from looking like a world-beater to a guy couldn't get anyone out. The Sox got rid of the Eck-boy when he still had some value and pawned him off to the Cubs where he spent three seasons with his ERA in the stratosphere. The Cubs waive the Eck-boy since no one wants him. The Eck-boy then comes up with the brilliant excuse, err I mean revelation on why his performance has gone into the crapper: "I've got a drinking problem so bad, that I make the bear from the thread below look like a pansy who can't handle his liquor!" The A's buy this line of BS and sign the Eck-boy. The Eck-boy does manage to get a few people out in first few seasons with the A's with the help and guidance of Dave Duncan. The Eck-boy's career is made by the widespread usage in baseball of "set-up" man. The "Set-up" man of course bridges the gap between starter and closer meaning that the Eck-boy can now come in in the 9th inning, get a few people out and post a save. The concept of a "set-up" man would have offended the likes of Bruce Sutter and Rich "The Goose" Gossage who were the real dominant closers in baseball history, but have yet to make it to the HOF because of the baseball sports writers fixation with the fraudulent "save" statistic. The Eck-boy proceeds to rack up a myriad of "saves", taking advantage of this fake statistic. The Eck-boy also manages to keep his ERA at an all-time low, due to the fact that the tonages of inherited runners that he wasn't able to prevent scoring on him, were charged to his "set-up" men. When the Eck-boy was brought into the game in a non-save opportunity he would often put a runner or two on just so he, could indeed get the save. This as A's fans would have you believe, is a HOF'er. "He was clutch!", they say. Bullfreakingcrap I say. Let's take a look at the Eck-boy's most "clutch" moments.
1988 World Series: The A's are one out away from stealing game one of the series from the Dodgers. They're leading 4-3, with two outs and one on the pond, the Eck-boy has been brought in to seal the deal. The Eck-boy had walked the runner on first base due to his "clutch" control. Lasorda had only one pinch hitter left since he wasted three of 'em in his indecisive decision to have Mike Davis at the Plate(the dude whom the Eck-boy had walked) and only had Kirk Gibson left on the bench. At this stage of his career, Gibson was 50-something years old, and was giving new definition to the word SHOT. Not only was Gibson so far over the hill that was the pinnacle of his productive career with Detroit, he couldn't even see the base of that hill that he had just came over from the pasture that he was residing in LA. Not only that, he couldn't even walk he was so crippled from nagging injuries.
Nonetheless, Lasorda had Billy Russell wheel Gibson out to the plate in a wheelchair. Gibby immediately falls behind in the count 0-2, when the Eck-boy throws him two fastballs that it's obvious to even a tee-ball pitcher that the totally shot, and crippled Gibson cannot catch up with. The Eck-boy with his "clutch" control again, runs the count full on Gibby. What does the idiot do then? Stay with the heater that was making Gibby look like he was ready for the old folk?s home? Not a chance. In a moment of pure brilliance the Eck-boy uncorks a beautiful, hanging slider that Gibson jacks into the cheap seats. The Eck-boy loses and the Dodger's run the series to seven games and beat the A's. The Eck-boy straight up lost that series for them. That hanging slider would indeed become a post-season staple for the A's pitching staff, since it was the exact same pitch the equally over-rated Dave Stewart, threw to an equally crippled, Eric Davis in the series two years later. Eric the Red, would of course, crush that pitch 430 feet into left-center for a three run jobber.
The Eck-boy would have a chance at redeeming himself in this series. The A's were trailing the series 3-0, to the Big Red Machine when he was brought in to protect a lead in the 7th inning in game four. The Eck-boy started out pitching to the weak hitting, Joe Oliver. You guessed it, the Eck-boy goes with the hanging slider and Oliver rips it down the left field line for a two-bagger. The Reds then really ripped into the Eck-boy and blew the game wide open and go on to sweep the series.
Bottom line: When the big game is on the line, don't give the ball to a dude who has hair longer than your sister. The Eck-boy was a total fraud whose greatness is based on the fake "save" statistic.
3) Lee Wulff- Let's take a gander at the supposedly great flyfishing career of this shmuck. The Wulff-boy started out his flyfishing career in relative obscurity. The dude could definitely cast like gangbusters. This fact is undisputable, irrefutable, and incontraverable. Can't take that away from him. He was a great casting instructor and from all reports was a proficient, but definitely not a great angler. He caught tons of fish, during the times of the year when everyone caught tons of fish and struggled just like everyone else did when the fishing sucked. He did gain some reknown on his own via his totally shameless, self-promotion. Enter Kurt Goudy. Mr. Goudy was indeed a rightful legend for his unparalleled passion for all sport. Mr. Goudy, of course hosted the Wide World of Sports on NBC. Mr. Goudy liked all competitive sports and was a virtual fountain of sports knowledge. He liked flyfishing and would frequently share with the viewer the many flyfishing endeavors that he, along with his sons, embarked on. Mr. Goudy befriended the Wulff-boy. This was the Wulff-boy's ticket to instant, flyfishing fame. Goudy first featured the Wullf-boy while fishing in Labrador for big brook trout. These are arguably the dumbest fish on the face of the planet. The Wullf-boy gained infinite reknown for his ability to catch big fish on weird looking patterns. What they fail to tell the viewer, is that these fish are so stupid, that they'd hit a tree branch if you threw it on the water. Wulff is frequently featured on WWofS, on other fishing adventures and Goudy waxes poetic about how the Wullf-boy is able to fish circles around his two sons. His legend grows to Clark Kent-like proportions and he becomes some kinda super-fisher. What he fails to mention, is that neither one of his two sons can fish worth a damn. These two idiots couldn't outfish anyone even if you gave 'em a gillnet, a harpoon gun and a case of dynamite. They might have liked to fish, but just plain sucked at it. But the Wulff-boy is a legend. Total hogwash I say. Since substance abuse is a common denominator for the frauds listed above, it is my contention that the Wulff-boy was also on drugs. I actually have proof of this. There is no way a non-drugged up person can create such a vile-looking, abortion at the vise like the Wulff-series of flies and then think something like: "Hey Joan, come and look at this baby! It's gonna be a real fish catcher!"
Bottom line: The Wulff-boy? A shameless self-promoter and total fraud.
4) Lance Armstrong- Let's cut right to the chase with this cat: He's juiced to the gills. I don't claim to know anything about pharmacology, but I'd bet my house that if you gave a list of all the stuff this dude is on to a toxicologist, he'd say the stuff Lance is using would make the entire boat-load of anabolics that Barry Bonds is on, look like a few Flintstone's vitamins. Proponents of Armstrong know he's juiced, but will argue vehemently against it. He's in great shape!", they say. "His resting heart-rate is only 45 beats per minute!" They say. It is my contention, that there's only three ways you can have a resting heart-rate of 45bpm. They are as follows:
1- You're a lizard.
2- You've just drank a cocktail supplied by a Haitian witchdoctor and have been rendered into a zombie-like state.
3- You're juiced to the gills.
Since Lancy-boy doesn't have a tail or scales and can talk, the first two are highly unlikely. As the great Sherlock Holmes once said. "Via the process of elimination, however unlikely the only option that remains must be the truth!" So goes it. The Fact that the bicycle juice boy has never been caught in a random test, with his hematocrit levels through the roof just proves he's a smart fraud. If Miguel Indurain was juicing himself up, he would have ridden Lance straight into the ground.
Bottom line: For his chemical fraudulence, the Bicycle juice boy, sucks hind titty! That particular H.T. of course has an implant from Dow-Corning, making it almost as fake as Lance is.
Willie- Part-time fraud investigator
