Project Mayhem

C’mon, for all the whining that goes on about how steroids is cheating and ruins the integrity of sports, has anyone stopped to consider that they just might be good for athletics?  Indeed, there’s a whole new niche just waiting to be discovered: The Supplemental Games, the ultimate extreme sports. 

Don’t be naïve; regulators are never going to stop athletes from juicing anyway, given that blood doping is often undetectable.  And even if they do, somebody somewhere will come up with a way to beat it, so why not just legalize it? Under strict supervision of the American Medical Association, the MLB, NFL and NBA create spin-off leagues where “juicing” is an integral part of game strategy. 

The Supplemental Games is the chance in a lifetime for average players who don’t have Shaq’s power, Reggie Bush’s speed or the endurance of Greg Maddux.  Now, no-name players like Domenik Hixon of the Giants, Brad Snyder of the Indians and Jason Maxiell of the Pistons can begin snagging multi-million-dollar endorsement deals, too, for brands like the Milk Advisory Board, because, of course, “It Does a Body Good.”

Seriously, aren’t you a bit tired of hearing about Kobe, A-Rod, Tom Brady and the likes?  Wouldn’t it be great to finally root for somebody other than the typical cast of stars who were dealt a winning genetic hand at birth?  Yes, The Supplemental Games would be a victory for Average Joe’s everywhere.  Steroids would do for the average guy in sports what Viagra did for the average guy in bed.  Now everyone’s a hero. Grab your bats, gentlemen, and let’s play ball!

In an industry where careers have such short lifespans, it’s time to move over and give average guys a chance.  Average guys like me, for instance…  I was always good in sports, but not great; good enough to make the team, but not good enough to start.  While the stars got all the glory – and the girls – all I managed to pick up was eight stitches on my lip while serving as a tackling dummy. (Till today, I swear I got them while scoring the game-winning touchdown.) 

Now, instead of sitting on the sidelines for a good part of their careers, average players become superstars — or supped-up stars — with advanced abilities, bigger paychecks, more fame, and the admiration of fans. 

And the athletes aren’t the only winners.  Brands that had no place in sports are now center stage.  Instead of Gatorade Jugs on the sidelines, the multi-billion-dollar steroid industry has its own “Juicing Stations.” Take a little hit; hop back on the mound and fire a 108 MPH fastball … in the eighth inning!   And because of the juiced-up nature of the games, entire new structures will need to be built to house the required new stadium dimensions: 140-yard football fields, 13-foot-high basketball rims, 110-feet gaps between bases, titanium bats, etc.  That puts even more people to work. 

New sponsors will undoubtedly sprout up to proudly display their names on the side of buildings, such as Anabolic Park and BALCO Field. And ad-income will soar with the influx of creative new advertisers: “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up … but as long as I’m down here I’m cranking out 20!” 

That all sounds good, you say, but what about the record books and the embarrassing disclaimers next to the athletic accomplishments?  No worries.  After all, it’s the Supplemental Games, we embrace our heritage.  Our noted Hall of Fame building would be called “The Asterisk” and would be an extension to the Cleveland Clinic, just down the road from Canton.  And speaking of the Hall of Fame, steroids would even give us back our favorite retired athletes.  Cal Ripken, Joe Montana, Larry Bird, all the babies who cried during their retirement speeches can now come back to shatter their own records.  Imagine the turnout on game day!

Hmmmm … this sounds so good that maybe even I’ll come out of retirement.