A slugger born every minute

Baseball’s never been pure.
Owners worked together to screw the players.
Gamblers bought players to throw games.
And umpires to blow calls.
Cork a bat here, smear a little pine tar there. Scuff a baseball or two, and dab on some Vaseline.
Then came the performance-enhancing drugs.
Even the clean guys get a boot from blood doping.
It’s all about genetic engineering now. Athletic supermen.
For every slugger, there’s a thousand slugs.
Twisted, repulsive freaks. Monsters and drooling horrors, all of them.
Dump the survivors into the circuses.
As long as the crowds still pay to see them, I guess.