A toast to Manny. Griffey

Manny Ramirez reached the 500-homer plateau. Ken Griffey, Jr. is close to 600.
Does anyone care?
Well, of course, especially in Boston and Cincinnati. But there doesn’t seem to be much buzz about these accomplishments, or at least, as much buzz as they deserve.
Steroids, perhaps?
I believe Manny and Griffey are clean, but I can’t tell you why I feel that way. Maybe because there never seemed to be unnatural spikes in their productions. Both have always been great hitters, and these achievements seem as if they occurred in the natural course of events.
But it feels like there’s a steroids hangover. We have become so numbed by artificial numbers that when real ones come along we’re too jaded to react.
Manny and Griffey should be enjoying more lavish praise than they’re getting. And they can thank the cheaters of baseball for the muted response. The cheaters didn’t just soil the game, they also cast a pall over the careers of their fellow union members who followed the rules.
So a toast to Manny and Griffey, and a pox on those who spoiled the party