Unsportsmanlike Conduct

For sure police know more than I
About who lies or tells the truth,
Though how could anybody spy
(Unless mixed up—or super sleuth)
The years of drug use he denied
Until too clearly, he had lied?

Lance Armstrong was despicable
As though sports’ anti-doping rules
To him were not applicable
And Tour de France arbitres fools.
Contenders were as bad almost
But he’s the one who riches grossed.

I hope my quandaries drift afar.
For now, though, I doubt everyone
Like Manti Te’o, Irish star
Whose cyberromance seemed undone
When hoaxers set South Bend abuzz:
Lennay Kekua never was.

But was in fact his cover blown?
The jocks at Notre Dame aren’t dumb.
How was it he had never known?
Was he, too, willing to succumb
To pranks that confound wretchedly
A timeless sports fan such as me?

I’m happy this year baseball scribes
Found role-enhancing drugs to blame.
For one of their most trenchant gibes:
Electing to the Hall of Fame
No one! Not Clemens, Sosa, Bonds.
Where Big Leagues fail, the press responds.