Substance Fueled

I won't be too fazed if they take a couple hundred of A-Rod's home runs away due to a suspicion of jammin' on the juice, but they can't ever take away Dock Ellis's no hitter, admittedly pitched during an acid trip. That's the difference between 1970 and 2010. That, and the facial hair of the mid seventies Oakland A's. But better let Dock tell the story:
"I can only remember bits and pieces of the game. I was psyched. I had a feeling of euphoria. I was zeroed in on the (catcher's) glove, but I didn't hit the glove too much. I remember hitting a couple of batters and the bases were loaded two or three times. The ball was small sometimes, the ball was large sometimes, sometimes I saw the catcher, sometimes I didn't. Sometimes I tried to stare the hitter down and throw while I was looking at him. I chewed my gum until it turned to powder. I started having a crazy idea in the fourth inning that Richard Nixon was the home plate umpire, and once I thought I was pitching a baseball to Jimi Hendrix, who to me was holding a guitar and swinging it over the plate. They say I had about three to four fielding chances. I remember diving out of the way of a ball I thought was a line drive. I jumped, but the ball wasn't hit hard and never reached me."