The Looming Arod Scandal Tsunami: The Curse of Madonna

Went to the market yesterday. There he was, our 3B, headlined on every magloid, linked to you-know, the 50-year-old, veins-in-the-biceps lady (right).

Got me thinking about the Lost Legions who came before him.

We start with Christopher Columbus, whom she landed at the peak of his career, after returning from the New World... just kidding. She started long before C.C. Sansalvador. But let's get to her modern trophy case.

In 1985 she bagged Sean Penn. He was coming off "The Falcon and the Snowman." They did two years (which must be why Penn has such a boner about closing Gitmo; he knows what it's like.) It took him 10 years to win an Oscar. In the meantime, it was "Shanghai Surprise," "Cruise Control" and "We're No Angels." Those are the equivalents of 20 HR and a .296 average. Yep. That's Bobby Abreu.

Then she netted a trout named Warren Beatty, again, at the top of his game. He made "Bugsy." He served 16 months. It took him until 1998, "Bulworth," to return to the game.

Then came Tony Ward, the obligatory bisexual porn star. These days, he's probably singing in a church choir somewhere, or wrapped in a straight-jacket, ranting how he won't even harm a fly.

Then Vanilla Ice. Yep. THE Vanilla Ice. For those of you who don't remember Vanilla, I refuse to inflict his image upon fellow human beings -- it's like Batman's code to never take a human life. Let's just say, he was to rap what Kei Igawa has been to the Yank rotation. And let's just say, he has yet to make a comeback.

Then basketball center Dennis Rodman. That was mid-1990s, when he was morphing into the Ru Paul of sports. They were fated to be together. He was a great rebounder. He has yet to rebound.

Then out popped her fitness trainer, Carlos Leon, who seeded her with his bursting spermatozoa. He probably weighs 300 pounds these days.

Then Andy Bird, whoever that is. He scored the best deal of anybody. He sold his story to the tabs.

Then Guy Ritchie, who did the longest stretch, now pictured at a supermarket near you.

On deck... ARod.

I know what we all hoped: Check the guns on that wacko lady. Maybe some of her workout gorilla insanity will rub off on our boy. The key word, though, is "insanity." We're talking about a woman who devours men like that evil force in the old Fantastic Four, Galactus, did planets. Or to use a baseball analogy, she's the Billy Martin of females: Short term excitment, but in the long haul - well, somebody's going to get punched out.

She's going to leave this guy on the side of the road like an empty sixpack of Pabst. And God help us if she takes a shine to Jeet.

If anybody thought it was a certainty that Arod will break Barry Bonds homerun record, they didn't take into account the arrival of Ms. Galactus.

And if we think it's a certainty that Arod will rebound in 2009 and have an MVP season -- just put those failures last year behind him and return to 2007 -- think this:

Shanghai Surprise.
Cruise Control
We're No Angels.

Twenty home runs. Two-ninety-five average.

We better have solid backups in our batting order. And ugly-looking ones, at that.