Ryan Braun

            When Clare was in third or fourth grade, she bent a towel rack in the bathroom trying to do pull-ups.  To prevent further destruction and injury, I came up with the idea of “spring training,” for my little ballplayer to exercise and get strong just like the pros.  This worked better than I could have hoped, to the point that my daughter will now lose herself for, say, two hours at the gym.  She likes the equipment and the challenge.  To the best of my knowledge, she has not looked for any “outside” help, either to pump iron or swing a bat.

            Last night, the two of us watched MLB Network, and Clare was downright gleeful over the season-ending suspension handed down to Brewers’ outfielder Ryan Braun.  She’s the same way with Hall-of-Fame voting; the more Mark McGwire, Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens suffer, the happier she is.  I don’t take credit for making my daughter this way; my wife Michele and the good teachers at St. Bernardine’s Catholic School are probably more responsible for shaping Clare’s beliefs.  In any case, I am impressed.

            There really is pressure on young athletes to perform.  Everybody wants to start, everyone wants to play in college; PEDs are a way to make that happen.  Clare had dreams of playing NCAA Division I, so the temptation to cheat was out there.  But my kid decided to sweat the old-fashioned way and has passed every drug test administered since high school.

            We live in a time where that’s cause for parental pride.