You can see them, two conspicuous characters, trudging along on the side of the highway, dressed in striped suites, their ankles bound by a three- foot chain.“Come on Alex, your holding us up. Let’s get these suspensions done and over with.” The answer is quick and irritated. “Slow down, Ryan. Why don’t you carry the money bags for awhile and let me hold the PEDs?
“Not a chance, gotta keep movin’ and get away before they figure out how easy they let me off. Sixty-five games, what a joke. The team’s in last place and not going anywhere this season, anyway. And the big part of my contract doesn’t even kick in ‘till next year. Ha, Ha,Ha!”
“I know. You got off easy. You’re lucky. I’m tryin’ to dodge a lifetime ban.”
“You shoulda thought of that before you did that press conference, Alex.”
“Look who’s talking. Weren’t you the one who rubbed their noses in it? Didn’t you brag about how the evidence cleared you?”
“Shut up, Alex. You were the one who said that going to Miami was such a great idea.”
“Hey! What can I say? I can’t help it if some people take their talents to South Beach, and some people go to South Beach to have the talent injected in them.”
“They said we could have gone down in history.”
“You mean like Bonny and Clyde or Dillenger and Baby Face Nelson?”
“Yeah, but instead we’re wobbling along this highway like the Penguin and the Joker.”
“We let ‘em all down, didn’t we? Our teams, the fans, the other players and especially the kids who looked up to us.”
“Speak for yourself, Ryan. I got plans. I’m gonna pass a few more guys on the home run list and get some big pay days. Look, it says so right here in my contract. I’m going to go down in history with Jeter and Rivera before it’s all over.”
“Alex, do me a favor. Stop yankin’ my chain.”
The preceding is a fictional account. Any similarity to actual persons is purely coincidence.