The biggest voice—and the one that is possibly the most directly affected—is Hank Aaron's. He was widely quoted this weekend for saying that anyone who has been proven to use steroids should be banned from the Hall of Fame. That would conveniently eliminate both the man who broke his biggest record (Barry Bonds) and the man most likely to break it in the future (Alex Rodriguez) ... but not Mark McGwire, who is currently being "banned" anyway. He also wants the 102 names from the infamous list of 2003 released, as if that would solve anything.

"My feeling has always been the same – the game of baseball has no place for cheaters," Aaron said Sunday morning. "There's no place in the Hall of Fame for people who cheat."

He's right cheating is bad. But is using steroids really cheating? Let's ask another current Hall of Famer:

"I certainly don't think you can stand up there and hit a Nolan Ryan 100-mph fastball just because you put something in your arm or took a pill," he said.

Oh, wait ... that was Hank Aaron again. But at the same time, Aaron has no problem with Pete Rose joining the club. In the same impromptu press conference, Aaron said that Rose belongs in Cooperstown and he would like to seem him there. He says that Pete's situation is different than the steroids question. (It is. It's worse.) But if Pete would just ask for forgiveness and admits his faults, this could all be over.

There's the rub, isn't it? Pete Rose doesn't want forgiveness and will never say he's sorry. That's always been part of the "conditions" for the removal of his lifetime ban and that's why it hasn't happened yet. Even if Pete does get the ban lifted, he would be relying on the Veteran's Committee to get him into Cooperstown, which is not a lock. Aaron and two prominent former teammates of Rose (guess who?) have been lobbying Selig on his behalf, but there are just as many Hall members who want to see Rose humbled first. Maybe he broke one of their records?

If there's one thing that induction weekend never fails to reminds us of, it's that there is no more arrogant group of people on the planet than Baseball's Hall of Famers. (Except maybe the baseball writers who put them there.) If you think Rickey Henderson is the new king of that mountain, you're sadly mistaken. (See also: Reggie Jackson.)

MLB commissioner Bud Selig mulling pardon for hit king Pete Rose [NY Daily News]
Aaron wants past steroid users exposed, banned from Hall [Atlanta Journal-Constitution]
MLB: Aaron says Rose belongs in Hall [Honolulu Advertiser]
Rickey has last laugh [Daily Star]

Wayne Ellington was drafted late in the first round by the Timberwolves — along with every other player in the NBA Draft — but most will remember his historic night for the time they met his girlfriend. She goes to Drexel and wanted him to stay local, but he's blessed to be going to Minnesota. Tell that to Ricky Rubio.

Joe Morgan decides to tell a story on Sunday Night Baseball. (Stop me if you've heard this before. OK, I'll continue anyway.) It was an utterly harmless story, until it proved to be an "utter crock." (Stop me if you've heard this before. OK, I'll stop.)

Take it away, Dash: "Let's say you love the Chicago Bears. (Relax....it's just an example.) And let's say you don't mind having a few dozen tattoos on your body. That doesn't logically follow that you need 92 Bears autographs permanently inked in your skin."

Simona Halep decides to get a breast reduction — but that was before Alena Schurkova, a professional volleyball player with 32Es, weighed in. "If she does this it sends out the message that girls with big boobs can't play sports and that is just wrong," Schurkova said. Halep hasn't yet reconsidered.

Fact: Chris Forcier is leaving UCLA. Fact: He needs a better press team than his family. Fact: Writing "fact" lots of times in a press release does not strengthen your argument.

Tucker Max and an unnamed ESPN columnist walk into a bar... no, there's no punch line.

Artie Lange was who we thought he was! A much more thoughtful, rational expression of the same sentiment, at least.

"YouTube is filled with grainy cellphone videos of drunken bleacher brawls, but few capture the drama, action, suspense, and heartbreaking childhood trauma of this donnybrook from the Yankees-Marlins series. It's like the Citizen Kane of stadium fan fight clips." Getcher popcorn ready.

What do you do when you win the Stanley Cup and your team's owner is Mario Lemieux? You go to Sewickley and swim with the Cup, natch.

You already know what happened, but it's worth another watch, if only to make Lucky Pierre a permanent phrase in the cultural zeitgeist.

But an earlier draft of the script, dated Dec. 1, 2008, is making its way around the Web. It's 129 pages, which means it's up to the intern to parse through it, pick out the good parts and then compile the particularly entertaining excerpts. It wasn't hard to find a handful of lowlights, and in addition to the ones included, there are a surprisingly large number of pointless factual inaccuracies: The Charlotte Knights are Triple-A, not Double-A; Scott Hatteberg never played one year for the Rockies; Bryan Bullington and Roger Ring were not the draft choices directly before Jeremy Brown; and when Olmedo Saenz grounded out in the ninth inning of the fifth game of the 2001 ALDS, there were no outs, not one, thank you very much.

Besides that — and plot twists that pit Beane as an avid concertgoer and convert Paul DePodesta into a weightlifter — the screenplay made me wish some studio would take a chance with this movie, even if Michael Lewis himself didn't see the movie in the book. The first two acts are slow, relying on Bill James to explain sabermetrics to the women dragged to the theater by their geeky boyfriends brothers. The last 30 pages, though, are as action-packed and climactic as a trading deadline and AL West race can be.

And yes, there are cameos from Lenny Dykstra and Joe Morgan, outright allusions to Roy Hobbs and Jimmy Stewart and subtle nods to Bobby Knight and Angels in the Outfield. It's Moneyball, coming to a theater near you... well, maybe never, but hopefully soon.

"OK, Let's start with a naked Billy Beane, the steam rising off the shower and crowning his head, like... God!"

"Great idea, but here's a better one. We'll cut to a Bill James voiceover, and then cite Henry Chadwick."

"Oh, I like it. But it's a bit too, hmm, secular. Let's throw some stigmata in there."

"You sure you want to go that route?"

"Absolutely. And blood! Lots of blood!"

Lest the movie offend the Jewish crowd, Arn Tellem makes a cameo when Beane goes to Tellem's son's bar mitzvah and, like everyone else, struggles to keep a yarmulke on his head. Bobby pins, Billy. That's the trick. And don't be depressed — bar mitzvahs are fun!

A few scenes in and Beane's already throwing chairs against the big board. Nobody pays any attention. Apparently there is fighting in the war room.

I think this is the beginning of a beautiful uncomfortably intense friendship.

Because after you seduce an Outback waitress, your next step isn't to call the Indians' general manager in the middle of the night?

Ah, Christmas — makes more sense than you think. But don't bother trying to figure out how It's A Wonderful Life comes into play.

I thought this was the most entertaining soliloquy of the movie, but then everyone's favorite Sunday Night Baseball analyst makes an appearance.

And the Lord said, "Ask and ye, Chad Bradford, shall submarine, no problem."

Well, all of this certainly makes a lot more sense now.

From bar mitzvahs to Auschwitz? Let's hope this was one of the segues Soderbergh edited out.

One of the screenplay's more puzzling revelations is that Jeremy Giambi is obsessed with The Natural. And, apparently, he's so caught up in the climax that he yells, "Yeah, Hobbs!" even though he's seen it hundreds of times. Also, this is why Beane trades him. Yeah, Beane!

Billy Beane and fantasy baseball owners across the country: not so different after all.

Should make for an interesting Spanish subtitle.

Aaaaaaaand scene!

Here's what Joe had to say about last week's story, per Larry Brown Sports:

Jon [Miller], I want to correct something that I said last week - you weren't here so you weren't involved - but last week we were talking about Don Wilson pitching a no-hitter and I remember talking to him about Hank Aaron and saying it wouldn't be the worst thing if he walked him. And he said "get away" and he went out and struck him out. Well it happened in the dugout, not on the field. I got it mixed up with an incident I had with Al Hollins, who in a similar situation was pitching with me at the Giants, so I had the two confused.

Again, it's a little improbable that Joe would breach the old, inviolate rule about talking to a pitcher during a no-hitter, but, whatever, that's what Joe says, and Don Wilson, tragically, isn't around to tell us any different. (He committed suicide in 1975.) So there the story ends, right?

Alas, this is Joe Morgan, a man who can't get from subject to predicate without saying something egregiously dumb. And, lo, do I detect another fib?

I wasn't watching last night, but it's safe to assume that the "Al Hollins" mentioned above was actually Al Holland, a teammate of Morgan's in San Francisco in 1981 and 1982 and in Philadelphia in 1983.

Joe claims he mixed up the Wilson and Holland stories — that Holland was pitching "in a similar situation" in 1981 or 1982, meaning, presumably, that he had a no-hitter going late in the game, and that Joe sauntered over from second and suggested he walk a big bat, etc. Let's have a look at the record, shall we? Surely there are some computer numbers out there that might help us.

Holland was a relief pitcher, a decent one for a time, and he recorded only 11 starts over his 10-year career, 10 of them with the Giants. Only once did he throw more than four innings of no-hit ball. That would've been Sept. 29, 1981, against Cincinnati; Johnny Bench hit a solo shot in the fifth to break it up. Now, I suppose it's conceivable that Joe would've proposed walking Bench at that point, even if his old teammate was then in the winter of his years. But consider: Holland didn't just have a no-no through four-and-a-third. He had a perfect game.

Maybe it's a little mean-spirited to bird-dog an old man's yarns in this way, and if Joe were just harmlessly estranged from the notion of fact, I probably wouldn't bother. He's not, though. He's downright hostile to the truth, and in turn to his own audience, whom he seems to regard as nothing but a lot of slack-jawed morons begging to be lied to. And he obliges, time and time again. In that, he is, as Joe Morgan himself would note, very, very consistent.

Joe Morgan Lies Again When Clarifying Previous Lie on Sunday Night Baseball [Larry Brown Sports]
September 29, 1981 San Francisco Giants at Cincinnati Reds Box Score and Play by Play [Baseball Reference]
EARLIER: It Wasn't So, Joe

Las Vegas golf-course developer, Ken Jowdy, is accused of taking more than $25 million from investors to build a resort in Mexico, only instead of actually building anything, they guy just spent the money on parties for him and his friends. Oh, and his friends are Joe Morgan, Roger Clemens, Reggie Jackson and Pete Rose.

The losers in this scenario included many ex-Rangers, Islanders and Devils including Bryan Berard, Michael Peca, Mattias Norstrom, Chris Simon, Steve Rucchin, and Rem Murray, and current Cup carrier Sergei Gonchar. The winners? The friends who got six-figure no-show construction jobs and anyone who likes to stick stuff in Roger Clemens' ass. According to the lawsuit, Jowdy gave Brian McNamee a job as a personal trainer and put "a Clemens gal pal named Adrian Moore, described as a 'regular party attendee who was close to Clemens,' on his payroll 'as a personal favor'" to the Rocket. (That's New York Post-speak for "they were doing it.")

Other winners included the "porn stars, escorts, strippers [and] party girls" who were flown for the lavish "bacchanalian revelry" that Jowdy used to woo his baseball party pals. The hockey goons weren't invited.

From one angle it makes sense: If you want to throw crazy sex parties to impress your famous "friends," you can't be stealing from those friends. So you have to target a different group of gullible millionaires to finance your orgies with the first group. On the other hand, if you're going to steal money from rich athletes, why would you go after NHL players? You don't see jewel thieves breaking into trailer parks, do you?

Plus, why would anyone want to impress Joe Morgan? (For the record, Joe says: "It's unethical to use my name when I never went to any of those parties, nor was I involved in any other activities." (His name came up in the lawsuit, but so noted.)

According to the filings, Jowdy lavished attention on the baseball players "under the guise that these individuals would eventually purchase real estate" in the planned resorts, called Diamante Del Mar and Diamante Cabo San Lucas. But, the ex-major leaguers never expressed any interest, according to the suit.

Specifically, the suit states, "Clemens and even his wife were vocal and adamant that they would never purchase" the property.

"Nevertheless, Jowdy continued to provide - and these individuals all continued to accept - gratuitous, extravagant private air travel, five-star hotel accommodations, luxury home rentals, unlimited food and beverage expenses, golf tournaments and lavish parties several times a year over a three-year period," the suits allege.

Baseball players: "We may not like you, but we'll take your free stuff."

NHLers: Our Cash Was Blown on MLB Porn Party [TMZ]
GOLF RESORT DEVELOPER BILKED NHL STARS: SUIT [New York Post]

From Sunday's game, here he is, verbatim:

I guess I can tell this story now, one of my great experiences when I was a young player. Don Wilson was pitching a no-hitter against the Atlanta Braves. They had Orlando Cepeda, Rico Carty, Felipe Alou and Hank Aaron, of course. And they got to the ninth inning, he got two outs, no one on base, and Hank Aaron was the hitter. And in my infinite wisdom, I ran in to the mound. I said, "You know, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if Hank Aaron walked right here. He said, "Get back to second base." I proceeded to go back to second base. He threw three fastballs right by Hank Aaron. No-hitter.

Charming, right? And, alas, very likely an utter crock. This would've been June 18, 1967, Joe's third full season in the bigs. That Braves team did indeed feature Hank Aaron, Felipe Alou and Rico Carty — though not Cepeda, who was in St. Louis that year. And Wilson did indeed throw a no-hitter, striking out Aaron to end the game. None of that's the problem. The problem, as a tipster points out, is that Joe Morgan wasn't playing that day. Look at the box score. The Astros' second baseman was Julio Gotay. Morgan, who was probably hurt, hadn't played since June 3. He would pinch-hit the next two games, then return to the lineup June 21.

Now, Joe may well have said something to Don Wilson in the dugout, in which case he was merely indulging in a little poetic license last night. But given baseball's time-honored superstition about talking to pitchers during a no-hitter, not to mention the fact that Joe has told some stretchers before, I'm loath to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Please, Joe. Enough with the lies. As a wise man once said, how do you think we got Enron?

June 18, 1967 Atlanta Braves at Houston Astros Box Score and Play by Play [Baseball Reference]

Dan Steinberg on The Sporting Blog talked to Miller on the eve of Randy Johnson's 300th win, artfully guiding the conversation from Johnson to broadcast milestones to Joe Morgan and Internet criticism with a masterful segue: "Hey, speaking of Joe, do you get irritated with some of the criticism?"

That leads him to another question: "What about the Internet stuff, do you read blogs?"

Take it away, sir:

Oh no, I don't even understand what the point of it is. I mean, I know people are communicating, but it's not interesting to me. I like the blogs that the beat writers have now....

But for the rest of it, I don't really care about it. I mean, for me, if there's criticism, and it's about something that I could do something about, or at least something that I could say that's a good point, or no I disagree with that for this reason, well, that's good. I mean, we all need feedback, and maybe somebody makes a good point. You know, I was a terrible English student in high school. I couldn't probably diagram a sentence today. I mean, if somebody uses the phrase dangling participle, I'm going 'Huh?' I don't have a clue what that is.

...

But if somebody just says, this guy sucks, or he stinks? Well, that's not interesting to me. You know, there's nothing I can do with it. With Joe, you know, Joe knows a LOT about the game. Whether occasionally he mangles the language or says something that maybe comes out different from what he meant to say, like a million other ballplayers, that all could be. But they told me that there's a Web site called FireJoeMorgan.com or something. Well, what's the point of that? That's just mean, mean-spirited. I mean, what is the actual point?

Jon Miller on 300 Wins, Spanish Accents and FJM [The Sporting Blog]

Throw it back: AT&T Park (formerly SBC Park and originally Pac Bell Park) was one of architecture firm HOK's cutesy, retro-chic nostalgia palaces, all red brick and synthetic quirkiness, set down in a neighborhood built on a landfill and quickly trending toward Web 2.0-era schlock. This, you're meant to think, as you sip your Chardonnay and lazily check your e-mail via free Wi-Fi and gaze beyond the giant Coke bottle and the giant glove at the moneyed layabouts plying the Bay in their sailboats, this is how baseball used to be. (There's an old story, probably apocryphal, that the architects had intended to stick the bullpens in center field, but somehow forgot when the time came to build them, so consumed were they by the ballpark's outward appearance. That's why they're now in foul territory, a la Wrigley. I love this story. It's like a little parable.) These throwback ballparks are the brick equivalent of a Ken Burns documentary — is it any coincidence that Burns' Baseball arrived in the thick of the retro craze? — a window not on any actual history but on how baseball wants its history to be seen. It's a lot of infantilizing crap.

Private Benjamins: For years now, the Giants have billed AT&T Park as "the first privately financed ballpark in Major League Baseball since 1962." This is true if you don't count an estimated $25 million in municipal fire, police and garbage services; $33 million for the land itself, donated by the city; $83 million in property-tax exemptions; and on and on. (These numbers come by way of Baseball Prospectus, subscription required, from a study of hidden stadium costs by urban planner Judith Grant Long.) This has been the Giants' greatest public-relations coup, convincing San Franciscans they were getting a great civic landmark for free when in fact the public was footing 40 percent of the bill — and for a stadium enjoyed primarily by people from San Jose.

Absolutely fabulist: I don't expect a rigorous approach to history from a baseball stadium, but I also don't expect a baseball stadium to treat history like Boris from the Politburo with an X-Acto knife. In 2003, after the death of Bobby Bonds, the team unfurled a number of banners around the stadium in his honor, reading (if memory serves) "Giant For Life." This would've been a touching tribute, except that Bobby Bonds was famously and bitterly not a Giant for life, having been traded away in the game's first star-for-star blockbuster. On its own, maybe this wasn't so bad, but then came the treatment of his son. For 15 years, the team sold Barry Bonds and sold him hard, but last year, with Bonds at last off the roster and prevailing sentiment now aligned against them, the Giants all but sandblasted him out of their stadium, taking down the banners and murals commemorating his pursuit of Hank Aaron's record. Whatever you think of Bonds, this was very much his house, the dimensions tailored expressly for his bat. You can't just pretend him away. But the Giants tried, turning their ballpark into a massive, twee memorial to the team's animating philosophy that its loyal fans are a bunch of distracted, slobbering morons.

Testimonial: This isn't an AT&T Park story, per se, but I will always associate the place with an uncomfortable afternoon once spent in the company of Joe Morgan, back in 2004, at the height of his anti-Moneyball tubthumping. What I remember most vividly is that we made our way from the field up to the press box, and at pretty much every stop, he would jerk his thumb in my direction and announce to anyone in the vicinity that I was a fan of Moneyball and wanted to know why he wasn't. He'd laugh. They'd laugh. And I left the ballpark that sunny day feeling like the whole place was some sort of terrible funhouse, with carnies popping out of every corner to say, "Boo!"

Next up: Nationals Park. Got any horrible experiences to share? Send them to craggs@deadspin.com.

So to honor his honorary honor, we'll let Joe Morgan pick the players of the games in today's closer. Well, I'm not asking him specifically, but I have read enough Fire Joe Morgan to understand how this works.

• Whiteout. There was some exceptional pitching by the Colorado Rockies to blank the White Sox in Chicago, 2-0. Jorge De La Rosa, Jason Grilli, Taylor Buchholz and Brian Fuentes all helped to pitch a shutout. So who's the player of the game? How about Willy Taveras, who stole five bases. Oh, sure, none of those steals led to Taveras scoring, but ... stolen bases! Those are hard.

• They're Ba-ack. The Yankees have won eight of 11 and are back in this season thing with an 8-4 smothering of the Houston Astros. Mike Mussina is now at 10-4 on the season, and a lot of Yankees batters contributed, so Joe Morgan will go with Derek Jeter as the player of the game. Granted, he went 1-for-5 with no RBI, runs, or an error, but that's because he doesn't need to prove himself day in and day out. We already know he's special.

• Dramatic-O's. There was a wild one in Baltimore, won by the Orioles 8-7 after a 2-run rally in the ninth. Oscar Salazar's solo home run and Ramon Hernandez's game-winning single sealed the win over the PIttsburgh Pirates. Joe Morgan's player of this game? That's right. It's Dave Concepcion.

Now, of course, a whole cottage industry of Morgan-bashing has developed, led, of course, by Mose Schrute and the gang at Fire Joe Morgan. But let's not forget Michael Lewis' famous (and rather prissy, actually) bitch-slap in Sports Illustrated.

Someday we might have a vote between Morgan and Tim McCarver. But for now: Just Morgan.

So: Do you like the Joe Morgan? Do you not like the Joe Morgan? Let us know.

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Then this morning, another reader points out that some poor shmuck at the Tampa Tribune didn't get the memo on all of this. Sports columnist Joe Henderson constructed an entire column, which ran today, on the premise that Ruth was doing something illegal when he drank beer during prohibition. From the column:

Babe's "juice" was barley-colored and had a foamy head, and it was also against the law to consume it. If we're going to cramp Bonds for bulking up like some cartoon character, then we also must note that 612 of Ruth's 714 career home runs were launched during the Prohibition era.

Poor dope. Sad, really. So should Joe Henderson become the guest of honor in a return engagement of our weekly feature Why Your Hometown Columnist Sucks? Probably not. It's Florida, after all. They get a lot of things wrong down there.

Joe Morgan Blows Your Mind [Deadspin]

Well, guess what? The cartoons were just nominated for a Sports Emmy. Yep. In the category of "Outstanding Achievement In Content For Non-Traditional Delivery Platform." Other nominees include ESPN.com's "Off Mikes" and "E Ticket: The Wizard At 95." Honestly? At this rate, that guy below who rapped the Eagles song should be up for one next year.

The other major category? Outstanding Sports Personality: Sports Event Analysts. The nominees? Joe Morgan, Tim McCarver, Troy Aikman, John Madden and Johnny Miller. The Sports Emmys, ladies and gentlemen!

Sport Emmys Nominees [Emmy Online]

ESPN says Gammons will be a regular on the Sunday night broadcasts, though it's not known yet whether he will be in the booth with Morgan and Jon Miller, or if he will be "in the stands." We have a fear that Gammons — whom we genuinely like — will be reduced to Jim Grey status if he's mulling around the stands, so we'll cross our fingers that he's in the booth.

Particularly if he can reign in Morgan a little bit. We are desperate to see some classic Morgan-Gammons discussions on Billy Beane, traditional baseball statistics and (fingers crossed!) Pete Rose. It'll be awesome.

Gammons To Make Three In ESPN Announcing Team [USA Today]

In the summer of 2003, I was flying from DC to SF one night, and Joe Morgan was on the plane. I think that Joe has two sons; well, if not, they were younger-looking kids sitting next to him and he was really getting on them the whole flight (I was sitting in the row behind them). We all start getting off the plane, and he is starting to get more and more heated on these two kids.

Right as we get to the terminal, someone yells. "Hey, It's Joe Morgan." And, Joe Morgan swivels around, all 5-foot-2 of him, looks him in the eye and gives the guy the finger. It was awesome. I wish I were famous.

Though he wasn't seen, Jon Miller was there, blinking, wondering what, if anything, he could possibly say.

Athlete Run-In: Sammy Sosa, Way Back When [Deadspin]

So anyway, yeah: Joe Morgan's going to be broadcasting for the next eight years, at least. Enjoy that, America.

MLB, ESPN Reach Eight-Year Agreement [MLB.com]
Fire Joe Morgan [Blogspot]

(By the way, the guy in that picture with Joe is Joey Jam, the self-proclaimed "Entertainer to the Stars." So you know.)