Michelle Obama tests postive for banned substance.

WASHINGTON, D.C. - The doping scandal that has enveloped all levels of baseball and tainted many of the biggest names in the Major Leagues has now reached the highest annals of power in the free world.

Cleveland Indians catcher and First Lady of the United States Michelle Obama has tested positive for at least one banned substance. No word from the slugger herself, but her agent said that they are “weighing their options” at this time. Major League Baseball has not released the substance(s) that Obama tested positive for.

Suspicion of Obama’s use of performance enhancers first came to light in 2006 when she had a breakout season, hitting 44 homeruns, driving in 136 RBIs with a .335 batting average and whopping .603 slugging percentage.

More impressive still were her 32 putouts of potential base stealers, good enough for a .384 caught stealing percentage, tops in the AL of that year. “No way in hell I’ll run on ‘Chelle. She’s got a cannon” quipped B.J. Upton, who ranked second in the AL in bases stolen for the 2008 season.

Obama was called before a Senate hearing in late 2007 on the subject of performance enhancers in baseball, resulting in one of the more memorable, and now infamous scenes in baseball history. While counterparts of hers that had testified earlier chose a more subdued approach, refusing to answer several committee members’ questions, Obama became a voice to which the anti-steroids community rallied around. Her responses to questions of her personal steroid use ranged from a humdrum “no, senator” to the scene in which she stood atop the witness’ desk, flexing in her bulging arms in her famous sleeveless top, yelling, “don’t disrespect my effort and love for the game! God made this! God made me this beautiful!”

When questioned about why Jose Canseco named her as a known user in the baseball community, Obama responded with “Jose Canseco just snitching because he finished.” To this, Lindsay Graham (R, SC) was forced to respond, “the witness will refrain from quoting Rick Ross in these chambers.”

The recent revelation of the positive test has led to widespread speculation of peripheral instances in Obama’s inner circle that could perhaps shed light on the polarizing woman. At its ugliest, rumors of spousal abuse were linked to husband Barack’s long trips overseas. The rumors also spread to the amateur ranks, to Obama’s older brother, Craig Robinson, and his Oregon State basketball team. After the connection was made, eyebrows were raised over the Beavers’ increase in wins from 6-25 in 2007-2008 to 18-18 in 2008-2009. Said Robinson, “This, I don’t need.”

While the sports community awaits a statement from Obama, speculation will only skyrocket, and will most likely involve many of her high-profile acquaintances, from Oprah Winfrey and her extreme fluctuations in weight, to Queen Elizabeth II and her timeless aging.

However the outcome, Michelle Obama's colloquial titles of "Most Powerful Woman in the World" and "Most Powerful Woman Behind the Plate" will be forever tainted.

Caption Contest!

Barack: I keep trying to go a little more to the right, but this jackass keeps going left!

or...

Joe: This is the best thing Eisenhower ever did.
Barack: I think you're forgetting about the interstate highway system and leading the allied forces in World War II.
Joe: I'm not.

or...

Joe: Hey Barack! Thousand Bucks you miss that putt!
Barack: Gambling is illegal here at the White House, sir...

An Exit Strategy to the Steroids Era

You know the sport is in a bad way when the offseason sounds as dramatic or more so than the actual season itself.

America's Pastime finds itself in a bad way revving up the 2009 season.

A chemical substance is now more important than any single active player right now. No one is above suspicion. Baseball had a savior from the Legacy of Bonds in Alex Rodriguez, who until a few weeks ago was on track to be proclaimed not only the Home Run King, but perhaps the greatest player of all time.

Then you realize how quickly perceptions can change.

A-Rod came out and 'fessed up, and as much as I hate to say it, set a course to get all of baseball out of the Steroids Era once and for all. I hate A-Rod as much as the next guy, even before his assumed dismissal from Cooperstown. But his strategy here, if mimicked by the League, might just do the trick.

Rodriguez himself confessed to the transgression. He went on air and said what everyone was already thinking, rather than impugn himself to possibly worse in the court of public appeal. It's the only court that's judging A-Rod right now anyway.

Baseball — the Union, management, etc. — needs to do the same thing. They need to use the admittedly damning yet valuable information from the Mitchell Report, other confessions, and other testimony and just come out collectively. It will be painful. It will be costly. It will forever be a blemish on the character of the game.

But isn't that where we are now? America's Pastime, my left butt cheek!, they clamor from the gallows. The Good Name of Baseball is now and forever tarnished in the annals of history, regardless of asterisks, font colors or fine print. There is no one above steroids at this point, no matter how Derek Jeter claims the contrary. A-Rod was, begrudgingly by some, baseball's last hope. No body in their right mind suspected him of using steroids until a report that was supposed to have been safeguarded outed him.

Facing it like men and claiming full responsibility is the only way to get something close to what is commonly called closure.

But we've all heard that sorrowful, responsibility-harking, call before. Hasn't really worked, has it?

That step isn't as absolutely necessary as this next one.

Get over it, kids. Just get over it.

Closure is all well and good. If you can get some level of it, it makes everything all the more better, but don't think for a minute that whatever one is trying to get closure from can't be simply forgotten or alleviated by good ole fashioned time.

Getting over it will be hard, because bad news is good news for the news business.

The ESPN Behemoth can't stop and won't stop, and I'm sorry to say, they're an important piece of this conciliatory puzzle, because they generate the most gregarious fodder (unless a certain collection of commentators and/or citizen journalists can united against them...HOBBERS ASSEMBLE!!!).

Buster Olney, after all, needs a new lunch box

It seems that many involved in the game don't want this era to end, because to do so might somehow either impugn the game by admitting the era exists at all, which as we've discussed, is a moot point these days, or that somehow the situation ought to be brought up ad naseum until every single name of every single person who thought about taking steroids ever.

The Steroids Era has come. The Steroids Era is trying to pass. The names are out there. More names will be dug up. Hall of Fame careers will be judged well and they will be judged poorly. The game can't help that. It's as much a part of the era as the juice itself. But that could very well be the net loss. I mean, I was in junior high during the Return to Glory in '98 with Sosa and McGuire. I know now that it was all fueled by roids, but it doesn't mean I didn't enjoy watching it then. Simply losing the hindsight respect could be that net loss.

Rather than the alternative. The game could be irreparably damaged, sent to the gallows of games like ringer. Baseball must uproot itself and move beyond its horrid past. Remember it, so as not to repeat it, but don't make it bigger than the game. Like it is right now.

Let's move on. That's the spirit of the nation these days. Let's pick ourselves up off the ground, dust ourselves off, and get to the business of of fixing baseball.

This Isn't a Debate...Is It?

ESPN is regularly guilty of the crime of High Over-Hyping.

Whether it's delving into what's REALLY going on in the Cowboy's locker room (crap), figuring out what's REALLY between Kobe and Shaq in 2009 (crap), driving a REAL stake through the heart of Barry Bonds (old crap), asking Andy Roddick's Mom what's REALLY wrong with his game vs. Roger Federer (double crap) or sifting through Tiger Woods' garbage to see what he's REALLY eating while rehabbing (awkwardly likely crap), ESPN has about 38 minutes worth of news in a given day and stretches to 1,440 minutes, making the minutiae of every single angle of every single play.

Not that I don't watch, but that can get pretty monotonous. And by "pretty monotonous" I mean, "Sub-consciously coercing me to harm others."

But last night the Super Bowl lived up to the hype, marking the second year in a row the Biggest Game of the Year was actually in contention for the biggest game of the year. Each marked good offenses, defenses, and big plays.

In fact, two game-winning drives.

Last year, Eli Manning's emancipation from the sure-death grip of a host of New England defenders was only shown up by a ridiculous catch that invokes the lame cliche "Way to use your head! HARF HARF HARF!" The rally lead to a Cheddar Plaxico touchdown that sealed the deal for the New York Giants, defeating the Patriots in their quest for undefeated dominance.

Last night, a fourth-quarter offensive firestorm caught ablaze from the Arizona Arsonist Cardinals, with Kurt Warner throwing for a bajillion yards, all of which to Hairy Larry Fitzgerald, was extinguished by Gentle Ben Roethlisberger's pumping pass to the smallest available bit of real estate in the back corner of the end zone to Santonio "Shower Power" Holmes, capping off a Super Bowl-winning drive.

Each were marvelous catches, in the upper echelon of Super Bowl catches of all-time. But ESPN had the gall to say that Holmes catch last night surpassed that of the year prior by Mr. David Tyree.

Needless to say, I was taken aback.

I found it laughable. There's no way you could look at these two plays and say that last night's play was better than last year's, unless you're from the furthest reaches of the bowels of inner-Pittsburgh (which I doubt, considering that this is a written medium, requiring literacy for its consumption). But then more and more people were jumping on the Steeler morbid-obesity band wagon. Even our own Steve Lattimer jumped on the wagon, mouth full of tater tots and a half-bottle of ketchup, to be washed down with a half pint of KFC gravy.

Just make these considerations, I may even spot the nay-sayers a point.

Touchdown vs. Not-a-Touchdown

This is the only valid point that I see the nay-sayers having a prayer in defending, although I would contend it is surely not enough. Tyree's heads-up play (GET IT?) was only a reception to prolong the drive, rather than seal the game, while Holmes' stab-n-snag last night was the deal breaker for the Super Bowl.

I say that while it's true that Manning-to-Tyree didn't guarantee a win, I would also say that Roethsldfjsf-to-Holmes didn't either. If the Cards had shown anything that night, it was that they had a flare for the fashionably late appearances, and had more than enough time (24 human seconds, 4:52 seconds in Hairy Larry seconds) to score a last-second TD and win the game.

Not to mention the scramble by Manning was far superior/freakish than the tender fat loafings of Roelkjflkjfasaukjfhburger on their respective plays.

Both catches were clutch, and went on to be the most notable plays on the game-capping drives of the winning team. Just because one directly resulted in six, while the other indirectly lead to six.

Game vs. Game

This seemed like it might be a draw, but in fact, I think it only supports my rightness; last year's game meant more than this year's game.

This year brought on the sixth championship of a franchise that isn't called America's Team. While noble the mighty Steelers are, them getting One for the Thum-...One for Another Appendage to be Named isn't that remarkable. What happens when Dallas or San Fransisco gets their sixth? Records are meant to be broken.

So what's better than building on a record? How about assuring another one isn't built. The New York Giants were the only thing standing between the free world and the utter domination of the Prince of Darkness and his gnashing mignons of terror — an undefeated season by Bill Belichick and the Patriots.

I'm happy for the Steelers, I really am. But there was much more history on the line last year.

Catch vs. Catch

The actual physical act of catching the football was far superior by David Tyree of the Giants last year.

"Oh my! How did he keep those feet in bounds?" This was a question asked by literally thousands of people last night as Holmes kept his toes daintily within the end zone to secure another Steelers Super Bowl, and rightfully so. It was a great catch. One for the ages, as I said at length earlier.

So how did he keep them in bounds? He practices.

Receivers are trained on several different skills, from tip drills to toe drills. Tapping the NFL-required two toes is necessary to winning games, whether it be to utilize the sidelines for time-saving measures or — as in the case last night — to pass the ball in such a place that it was only accessible by a tightrope walking receiver and no one else. He has done that move literally thousands of times.

David Tyree hasn't performed that move before or since Super Bowl XLII. In fact, I think it's safe to say that he won't ever do it again. I would go as far to say it will never happen again to anyone ever, but I know that now anytime somebody catches a ball around their head in a manner that may be construed as them using their helmet to catch it, commentators professional and otherwise will scream at the top of their lungs "THAT'S JUST LIKE THAT ONE SUPER BOWL THAT'S JUST LIKE THAT ONE SUPER BOWL THAT'S JUST LIKE THAT ONE SUPER BOWL THAT'S JUST LIKE THAT ONE SUPER BOWL!!!"

Tyree's catch itself was, simply put, much more remarkable. And after all, wasn't that the essence of the "debate' in the first place? Tyree's catch was better, in a more important game, and while it wasn't for a touchdown, it lead to the touchdown that lead to an upset against a far greater team.

Case closed. Until Trent Dilfer opens his mouth and tries to convince America other wise. Yeah, you heard me right — Trent Dilfer was trying to convince other people to think his football-related opinion was right.

There are circus clowns that know more about football than Trent Dilfer, and he, I, Dan Marino and the rest of the American public know that the only reason he has a ring is because of Ray Lewis. Speaking of the last Super Bowl, Jared the Hefty Lefty Lorenzen did more to help his team win a Super Bowl than Trent Dilfer.

Be it known; Trent Dilfer endorses Holmes' catch, which means I can't be wrong.

Friday Afternoon Fun Bag!

X Games live chat worked out so well, I had to abide by a request to have Tanner Hall drunk for the Fun Bag. So here we go again. And thanks to everybody that showed up, it was fun.

So to continue on the wacky Fun Bag experiment, here we have more comedic gold.

To keep in with the politics theme that we started off the week with in the Shit Storm, here we have the head honcho of athlete politicians.

Righteous.

One time I went to a professional wrestling match in Mexico City. The "Lucha Libre" itself. Anyways, Mexican wrestling is way sweeter than any other wresting.

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Shaquille O'Neal is one of the most enigmatic players of all time. Whether he's winning games, getting fat, rapping or asking people how his ass tastes, he's always entertaining.


In case you missed it, Steve Nash was on Conan the other night. Not as funny as the video he did with Baron Davis, but pretty good nonetheless. I'm still waiting for Ron Artest's appearance on late night TV.


And finally, Rasheed Wallace.


Fantastic. I'm ready to rock. Coming your way, assholes!

Caption Contest!

"Huh? No, sorry kid, that's not Fitty."

or...

"If you don't believe in Jebus, you'll probably stay in that hospital bed forever. You see..."

or...

"Actually, Amani Toomer here is teaching me how to shave laster on tonight."

Kurt Warner deserves your best shot. You can make fun of his age, the fact that he probably caught airborne herpes from Leinart, his love of Jesus, or his man-goblin of a wife. Do it.

Monday Morning Shit Storm

GET OFF MY PLANE!!!

Lots going on this week, first off I just wanted to wish everyone a happy MLK day. We also have the inauguration tomorrow, which is always fun.

These things are important, however in today's age of divisive politics, a struggling economy, global poverty, and violence in the Middle East I think we here at GRH need to divert our attention...

And determine which politician is the best baller.

Today's shit storm will be the best athlete/politician combo.

Now, we have a couple ways to do this.

First we can choose legitimate athletes turned politicians. Such as Bill Bradley.


Pride of Crystal City MO, Princeton Grad, Rhodes Scholar, NBA Hall of Famer, Senator, Presidential candidate, all around American hero.

But reality gets boring.

So you can also bring something out of you ass.
Observe:


King Henry VIII, hailing from the house of Tudor. I feel he could be a legitimate two-gapper at nose guard.

So there we go, lets have some fun with this.

...Oh and as always here at GRH if you start a political flame war you'll end up just like Bodie.

(Assist from Icehouse)