Batgirl enjoyed this of a certain story Batgirl's intrepid reporter Art broke a few days ago:

Fans duck for cover as a shattered bat flies into the crowd on a single by Minnesota Twins (news) designated hitter Michael Restovich (news) in the fourth inning against the Florida Marlins (news) in Fort Myers, Fla., Monday March 14, 2005. No one was seriously injured in the incident. (AP Photo/Charles Krupa)

Meanwhile, in the comments Yankee Fan points our eye to this story from ESPN

Coming off knee surgery and caught up in baseball's steroids scandal, Barry Bonds said he may not play at all this season -- despite standing on the doorstep of the sport's most hallowed record.

The San Francisco Giants slugger also said he was physically and mentally "done," and blamed the media for at least part of his troubles.

"I'm tired of my kids crying. You wanted me to jump off a bridge, I finally did," Bonds told reporters Tuesday, shortly after returning to training camp. "You finally brought me and my family down. ... So now go pick a different person."

That's right. Barry Bonds is going to take his steroids and go home. So there.

Meanwhile, it seems the biggest story from the steroid hearings, beyond putting the fear of God (if God is an anti-trust exemption) in Selig and learning that Dennis Kucinich speaks espanol muy excellente, is the massive PR hit taken by Mark McGwire and his comically engorged head. I mean, all he did was say, "The past is a lie that memory has no return." No, wait, that's Gabriel Garcia Marquez. But anyway, his performance didn't go over very well with, you know, anyone as Newsweek reports. And SI columnist Stephen Canella opines that McGwire is a lunkhead, Jose Canseco may not be such a boob after all, and—gasp!--baseball needs new leadership.

The message of the day was that Congress doesn't trust baseball to clean up its own act, and Waxman brought the hammer down near the end of the hearing when he suggested Selig and Fehr should step down. Selig tried valiantly to portray himself as a steroids hard-liner -- he trumpeted his harsher minor-league policy and quietly accused the players' union of stonewalling his attempts to institute stricter penalties in the 2002 labor agreement. The strategy backfired. Selig, never the most authoritative figure to begin with, was made to look like a weak negotiator who was castrated in the collective bargaining process. (It might help if he made sure subpoenaed documents were free of "drafting errors" before handing them over.) In a room full of power brokers, Congress did little to hide its contempt for someone who didn't fight very hard for what he thought was right.

Can Selig and Fehr mop up the steroid fallout to Congress' liking? I doubt it, especially since the commissioner's sellout of the union Thursday isn't likely to put Fehr in a compromising mood. McGwire tried to close the book on The Steroid Era by reminding us again and again that he's retired. This story may not end until Selig and Fehr do the same.

The players are, of course, responsible for what they inject in their own butts, but Selig and Fehr are utterly complicit in the freakish swelling of every cranium in the game. Because the rewards for superstardom are so great, it was incumbant on Major League Baseball to take firm and clear measures to keep ballplayers from artificially inducing greatness. Instead, Fehr fought valiantly to protect the right of players to ingest this crap while Selig happily sat back and watched all the Pepsi commercials those same guys were starring in. As a result they both deserve to be shriveled like one of Jason Giambi's testicles.