Bill Simmons once described Milwaukee (or maybe all of Wisconsin) as a time warp, that the city's buildings and parking lots were pretty much the set of That '70s Show, and having visited the city a handful of times since reading that article, I can see his point. Despite a few urban retail centers, nestled against the shores of Lake Michigan, the city is, for the most part, still full of the warehouses with their steel beamed ribcages that supplied two coasts, the sweaty hearts that loaded the trucks and the boats, and the fat-bellied beer breath that conquered the cold center of the continent and made America great.
I bring this up because last night's revelation that Milwaukee Brewer, Ryan Braun, tested positive for a PED also feels like a time warp, only not the kind that brings about nostalgia for the working class and classic rock, but rather it is the kind of news that returns the baseball dialogue back to shadowy accusations and calloused calculations about whether dollar bills can drip from a syringe into the bloodstream. With nostalgia, we want to go back and relive the glory, but with what we have here, we will wind up wanting none of it; and because we will want nothing to do with it, this story will most likely fall on deaf ears, disobey Dylan Thomas, and go gently into that good night. Case closed. Another ballplayer gave into temptation and pricked his unblemished legacy.