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Vive Le Lance
Your cover billing, Super Man, usually conjures up the image of a hulking bodybuilder, but Armstrong has earned the encomium because he's developed the most important muscle of all—the heart.
The most famous cyclist in the world on your cover without a helmet? Thank goodness for the helmeted pictures on pages 35 and 36. Those I could show the kids.
Here's why none of this will ever work, or even be implemented: It makes sense.
What the baseball owners and players should be negotiating is how to get a family of four into decent seats, fed and back home for under $75. If they do this, I won't care how much money the owners or players make.
Verducci's simple plan to avoid yet another baseball strike misses the mark. MLB's central problem lies with neither its greedy players nor its corrupt owners. It is the myopic fans alone who are to blame for supporting taxpayer-funded stadiums, paying high ticket prices and continually forgiving MLB for its never-ending saga of labor disputes. Verducci's simple plan would do nothing about the fans.
My view on Pete Rose has always been based on my experiences in the bowels of the L.A. Coliseum during the summers of 1959 and '60, when my father, Wally Moon, played with the Dodgers. Reading has always been important to the Moon family, and the earliest thing I can remember reading and studying was the warning about betting on baseball posted on the Dodgers' clubhouse door. As a six-year-old I understood that if you gambled on baseball, it meant you would be expelled from the game. If I could grasp that at age six, why couldn't Pete get it?