Yes it's true. There are only 122 skull numbing games, give or take an off day, left in the MLB season. How will we make them last? That's right folks, only 122 more chances to see Barry Bonds physically disintegrate from the effects of that Devil flaxseed oil, only 122 more opportunities to see Rocket Roger's latest chapter in the saga "I'm better than everyone else so pay me more or I'll either leave or go back to Boston". Only 122 more games, of which there's an 85% that Ken Griffey Jr. will spend most or all of them on the DL. Baseball these days is about as exciting as washing your hair; lather, rinse and repeat. But it's not just what's happening on the field that is sooooooo engaging. The Boss is furious over revenue sharing, and why shouldn't he be? If there's one thing that The NFL has taught us, it's that revenue sharing and the competitive balance it brings is bad for sports. You only have to look at the financial disaster the NFL has become to see why revenue sharing is such a terrible idea. The last thing we want is competitive teams in Pittsburgh, Kansas City and the like. There's something enchanting about the predictability of the same 2 or 3 teams going to the World Series every year, isn't there George? Way to take an already lifeless and dreary sport and make it less interesting, Boss. What doesn't amaze me is how little Steinbrenner, and others like him, actually cares for the sport. What does amaze me is how a king of industry like George could fail to see the forest for the trees where the business of baseball is concerned. Maybe he's just delusional and thinks that some desperate network executive will hit his head on a rock and give MLB another huge contract, like the one before this one. Maybe he just likes being the big fish and doesn't care about expanding the volume of the pond. The last time I cared about baseball was when Big Mac was chasing 62. I wanted so much for him to get that record and so much for Sammy Sosa not to get that record. I mean really now, every one knew that Sosa was juicing. Here's a career plugger all of a sudden jacking 60? But Big Mac looked big enough, and he had hit 50 before, so we all bought in. Of course not to be outdone, Kobe Bonds had to turn the spectacle into a circus. So if I have anything for which to thank Bonds it's that his greed and selfishness tore the lid off the box. As the punishment for too many years of flaxseed oil wreaks havoc on Kobe Bonds, the biggest question in baseball concerns the newest phenom, Albert Pujols. But the question is no longer will he or won't he. The question is, does he or doesn't he? I hope he doesn't, but Mark McGwire, like my first serious girlfriend in 11th grade, taught me that anyone and I mean anyone can and will lie to you. I loved Mac by the way, not as much as my first girlfriend, but loved him like that big lummox of a brother who couldn't run his way out of a paper bag in a rainstorm but could still hit a ball a country mile. Watching his persona disintegrate under questioning was no treat though. Note to Big Mac, when the topic of discussion is the past, don't tell every one you didn't come there to discuss the past. Just say, "I'm a cheat and a liar" and they'll eventually forgive you. It worked for Bill Clinton. Meanwhile, Pedro Martinez is making loot in Flushing, Greg Maddux' one month renaissance is over, Kobe Bonds is stuck on 713 home runs (restoring my faith in a divine being), Johnny Damon looks like an adult now and the Bucs look more and more futile every day despite some of the best young talent in the game. Who are the best teams this year? Come on, I'm getting shampooed here.