I am sure that if one were to ask any baseball fan about a player that captured their imagination, every fan can recall the rookie that came out of nowhere to hit clutch homeruns in a pennant race or the veteran that had that magical season that kept you on the edge of your seat for every at-bat. It is that emotion, that magic if you will that has allowed baseball to be romanticized worldwide. I hate to be the one to do it, but I have to wake us up out of that dream. The fairy tale is over. Our Paul Bunyans and John Henrys have been replaced by the all too real Svengalis and Rasputins of the sports world. Wars couldn?t do it. The color barrier couldn?t do it. Work stoppages couldn?t do it and even a missed World Series couldn?t do it. In the midst of the deluge of names and drugs, today?s baseball players have done what those other things couldn?t; they have taken away the innocent joy and anticipation from our pastime. Baseball above all other sports is delicately and inexorably intertwined with its statistics. No other sport inspires the numerical association with its records and players as does baseball. With the constant, almost weekly announcement of the next name of an HGH or Steroid user, the records and statistics that we once held dear are assaulted, sullied and debased. Some might say, it is only the records of today that are suspect, not those of the past. I would submit that while I am in agreement with that line of thinking, there are those who would tell you that there is just no way of knowing what players did back then. The mere intimation of doubt casts a pall over what was the natural succession of talent. ?Records were made to be broken?? is what we were always told. With the revelations of the ?Steroid Era? of Baseball, we can add hearts and trust to the list of broken items. While the plight of the finger-wagging Rafael Palmeiro may not have inspired tears, didn?t you feel good for Rick Ankiel in his comeback only to be slapped back to reality after his name was added to the ?List of Lists?? When Hansel and Gretel dropped breadcrumbs to mark their path out of the forest, they did not expect the birds to foil their plan. Unfortunately, the only path that the constant flow of names is marking off is the one that leads to greater cynicism and frustration for those of us that loved to escape to the fairy-tale world of Baseball. In the coming years, there will be more names and more stories and all the while we will continue to watch baseball. It is in our blood and it is a part of who we are. Just like the family member or friend gone astray, we cannot easily turn our backs and just let disaster occur without trying to turn things around.