Looks like we got some Grimsely names

What do these names have in common?

former Royals general manager Allard Baird.
Sammy Sosa
Chris Mihlfeld

Deadspin is pretty certain they are some names from Grimsley’s affidvat.
Mihlfeld is Albert Pujols’ personal trainer.
Uh-oh…this could be BAD. Very Bad…
I hope it’s wrong about Pujols.
But if it turns out Puljos is taking hGH?
Could you imagine the enomrous blackeye it would be baseball if Albert Puljos was connected to this?
I’ve criticized the mentioning of Pujols and illegal substances. He’s just a great player, I said. The linking of him to steriods, hGh, and all the like I attributed to the fallout of Barry Bonds. Nothing good in baseball could by without the question being raised “Is he juiced? Is it steriods? hGH? the Clear?”
It’s troubling. very troubling. If there’s one player in all of baseball that MLB has hope isn’t on anything, it has to be this guy.

But please remember, as Deadspin said:

We repeat: We are not claiming that Pujols has taken HGH. We are simply pointing out that Milhfeld is reportedly mentioned in the affidavit, and that he has connections to be Grimsley and Pujols. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to go back to our silent screams of pain.

I’m not going to let a mention of the possibility of Tejada and greenies go without a reply. I hope it’s not true. But him popping a few in the shadow of a possible Pujols hGH scandal is small potatoes. I’m not excusing it by any means, but greenies have been around a long time. If Tejada has taken them, he’s not the first… practically the entire 86 Mets were on them. Read “the Bad Guys Won” if you don’t believe me.

About Sammy Sosa…
Judging from Sosa’s season last year, maybe hGH doesn’t work all the time.
“Sammy Sosa…illegal substances? Say it ain’t so Sammy?”
“Sorry kid, I don’t speak english. Gimme a translator.”

It’s hard to believe that a medicore set-up guy can create absolute mayhem in baseball.

Buster Olney has this on his blog today:

A couple of years before, I had written a small story for the Baltimore Sun that Grimsley was the player who had crawled through the bowels of Comiskey Park and pilfered teammate Albert Belle’s cork- filled bat from the umpires’ dressing room in the midst of the 1994 season. But Grimsley had never acknowledged his participation and the story had never been fully told from a first-person point of view, so after talking with Grimsley a few times early in the spring of ’99, I edged into the conversation about the Belle bat, about Feb. 20 or so.

“If you happened to be the guy who allegedly took the bat from the umpires’ room,” I asked, “and I were to ascertain that the statute of limitations has passed [regarding what] would happen to the person who did this, would you talk about it?”

“If I happened to be that guy,” he said, smiling, “then that would be great.”

But Jason had another condition: He wanted to make sure his situation with the team was settled. Either he wanted to wait to find out whether he made the major league roster, for sure, or he wanted to wait until he was assigned to the minors. Jason Grimsley’s biggest concern was that his story would not be some kind of distraction for the team.

He officially was placed on the Yankees’ roster at the end of spring training, and during the first week of the season, he sat down and told the story of climbing up through a ceiling tile while holding a flashlight in his mouth and doing a mission impossible to switch Belle’s illegal bat during a game; Grimsley and the other Indians knew that Belle’s bat was corked, so he did everything possible to save his teammate from suspension. And the only reason he didn’t get away with it was that all of Belle’s bats were corked, and the replacement bat left in the umpires’ dressing room was a Paul Sorrento model, rather than a Belle model.

I’d bump into Grimsley every once in a while after he left the Yankees, and he was as gregarious and as funny as ever, a really good and easygoing guy, chatty; we’d mostly talk about his three young boys, who seemed to have the same kind of reckless, fun-loving personality as their father.

I’m suprised that anyone would stick their neck out for Albert Belle. Grimsley does seem to be a bit of colorful guy, but

Yankees Outfield Gary Sheffield is is out til September.
“How many teams do you think Shef has played with?”
“A player of Shef’s caliber? Two…the Yankees and the team he sold out to go the Yanks.”
“No, 6 teams…2 stints with 2 of them.”
“Really?”
“Yeah…and he has be rumored to be a little bit of a jerk at times.”
“But..he was friends with Barry Bonds. Surely, if he can befriend Bonds, he must be a jolly fellow.”
“Maybe they’re two of a kind.”
*For the record, I think Shef’s played his last game as a Yank. I bet his option doesn’t get picked up and he signs a deal with the Blue Jays.

Just want to put a plug for ArmchairGM.com. Great interactive sports site. It’s free to register. Do an article…do any opinion..or post a comment.

Let me get this straight… Gameboy is a gateway drug?

Tim, a gamer who is currently under treatment, agreed to discuss his addiction on condition of his last name not being used. He said he began playing video games three years ago at age 18. Soon he wouldn’t leave his room for dinner. Later, he began taking drugs to stay awake and play longer. Finally he sought help and picked up other hobbies to occupy his time.

Symptoms of addiction are easy to spot, Bakker says. Parents should take notice if a child neglects usual activities, spends several hours at a time with the computer and has no social life.

Bakker said parents of game addicts frequently echo the words of partners of cocaine addicts: “‘I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know what it was.”

“Hi…my..name is..Ben..and I’m a Gameaholic.”
“How did it start?”
“When I was 6…my parents got an Atari at a yard sale. Space Invaders. Frogger. Pac-Man. I started out on the light stuff.”
“What happened after that?”
“They got a Nintendo. Mario Brothers. Duck Hunt. Rampage. I was hooked using that gun to shoot that duck, but I never could shot that laughing dog. Then I got the PowerPad, that triggered my downward spiral into the bowels of my gaming addiction . Living in gutters, sneaking in Best Buy to play Demos, digging quarters out of sewer drains to play arcade games.I’m not prepared emotionally to talk about Mortal Kombat.”
“We’ll save that for the next session.”

I can still waste a few hours with NCAA Football, MLB, or Madden, but I lack sympathy for this.

The World Cup? Apparently the entire World is excited about something that I just can’t get into. Maybe it’s me…

I think that’s enough…but

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