You know what the saddest part of the A-Rod steroid scandal is? It's taking attention away from the impending release of a way more entertaining baseball tell-all—the autobiography of Darryl Strawberry.
It's a shame that Strawberry has to fight for space on Page Six with a dull Boy Scout like Alex Rodriguez. What The Straw did with his New York Met teammates back in the 1980s is infinitely more shocking, more scandalous and most importantly—more fun. No one has time to bulk up to superhuman proportions when they're busy banging groupies in the locker room.
The book, "Straw: Finding My Way," comes out in April (Citi Field giveaway?), but just get a load of some of the teasers. This could be the best memoir since that Mötley Crüe book.
Beer "was the foundation of our alcoholic lifestyle," he writes. "We hauled around more Bud than the Clydesdales. The beer was just to get the party started and maybe take the edge off the speed and coke."
Of course. Nothing mixes better with $500-a-gram blow than 12-ounces of beechwood aging.
The team's mantra on the road, he writes, was to "tear up your best bars and nightclubs and take your finest women... The only hard part for us was choosing which hottie to take back to your hotel room. Lots of times you . . . picked two or three."
Naturally. But what happens when stealing strangers' girlfriends away isn't enough?
He once watched a pitcher march a frisky fan to a private room for oral sex: "I was jealous. When I saw her heading back to her seat, I gave her a sign. She smiled, turned right back around, and met me in that same little room . . . I had to be quick and run back out on the field."
Just think ... if only Strawberry's career hadn't been derailed by all that cocaine, he could be getting serviced in a Cooperstown bathroom right now.
DARRYL BARES MET SEXCAPADES [NY Post]
Shine the Light Over Here For a Second! [Why's My Head Growing?]
Got a Straw?: Darryl Strawberry Is Writing a Book! [Brock Out]