I'll never forget when Sports Center juxtaposed two photos of Barry Bonds late last season during a piece on steroids.
The two pictures will be forever burned into the back of my brain as a true testament to the utter immorality the sports world is now based on.
The new motto should read: Lie and cheat your way to success, no matter how many "Your head should have its own satellite" insults you'll hear along the way.
The worst part about this whole steroids debacle is that everyone knows it has been going on for years. What has baseball, let alone any major sports league, done to prevent it? Absolutely nothing.
While speculation has been present for years now, instead of enforcing a stricter drug-testing regimen, the players have been given unions that seem to run their leagues. And here's the part I can't stop cackling about: The players can just up and decide not to play whenever they want. They can decide not to play a game - emphasis on the word "game" - for money. Allow that to resonate with you, please.
Funny, you don't see garbage men, the quintessential men behind the scenes, going on strike because they feel they aren't getting paid enough to pick up other people's trash.
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So now, in the eye of arguably the most ignominious scandal sports will ever face, something has to be done.
As much as they hate the ubiquitous label of "role model," athletes have no choice but to accept that people look up to them.
While Jason Giambi testifies to a grand jury that he took steroids, high school athletes are simply receiving a permission slip to do what would have been unthinkable decades ago.
Think about why young baseball players chew tobacco. Maybe - call me crazy here - it's because they see their favorite pros with a dip that could double as a goiter.
But let's get back to Giambi and Bonds' testimonies. There was Giambi's, "It didn't help that much anyway" declaration. But we saw a picture of the poor sap and were all placing bets on where his neck went.
For the record, I had money on George Steinbrenner taking it in an effort to cut costs and make room for Ichiro Suzuki.
Then there was Bonds. With his bald dome poking out of armor most of us would call a body, the devious turtle-looking creature claimed he had no idea what he was taking. Insert your own punch line here.
But redemption is just beyond the horizon for all of us seeking it. While these behemoths rake in the dough from their newfound muscles and the ladies come flocking, it's going to be hard to perform when all they've got a toothpick and two raisins down there. And Marion Jones can't enjoy constantly having to shave her chest to eliminate all that added drag.
