Cork doesn't matter.

Batting with a corked bat in an MLB game is an illegal act, according to Rule 6.06(d), and the umpire must eject any batter caught using a corked bat.

However, cork doesn't matter.

Formerly the National League's Official Physicist, Yale's Dr. Robert Adair concluded that "players nowadays are using light bats anyway so there would be insignificant gain in the hitting performance and significant degradation in the range of a hit ball. Corked bats are inherently weaker than standard bats." While using the corked bat remains illegal, no physical evidence suggests a corked bat could even at best add a couple feet to the longest drives.

Sports Illustrated reported that each Sammy Sosa's 66 home runs in 1998 averaged over 393 feet. A ball hit 393 feet will qualify as a home run in nearly any stadium, and so will most balls hit 390 feet.

Sammy Sosa also cracked, splintered, fractured, and broken dozens of bats in every season of his career. Prior to Tuesday night's game against the Devil Rays, no one ever had seen cork in any of these bats. All suspicion regarding Sosa's extraordinary achievements in recent years centered on the belief that Sosa was juiced, not his bats.

The thought that his past accomplishments are tainted in any relevant way strikes us pure malarkey. We've seen suggestions that the Commissioner's Office should x-ray the four Sosa bats that reside in the Hall of Fame. However, any modification of these bats qualifies as a defect rather than as an advantage, so the soundness of those bats does not affect his accomplishments. We cannot marginalize Sosa's achievements in any way without committing a greater offense to the integrity of the game than he did with his actions Tuesday night. Consequently, we must continue to acknowledge him as an all-time great and deserving Hall of Famer.

Unfortunately, Sosa tarnished his legacy quite badly yesterday night. Possibly without malice and certainly without an adequate amount of forethought, he strode to the plate with an illegal bat.

The idea that a professional athlete would ignore any variation in the condition of his equipment, especially a fundamental extension of the body like a baseball bat, is patently absurd. Even if the reported white "C" on the edge of his bat didn't indicate corking, Sosa should have known the difference by the bat's weight alone.

In his pseudo-denial during the post-game press conference, Sosa justified owning an illegal bat by claiming he used it to "Put on a show for the fans. I like to make people happy and I do that in batting practice."

Sosa offends his legions of admirers by insinuating that we, his formerly adoring public, are responsible for his cheating. Sosa cheats for us, to make us happy, because he likes making people happy.

We're tempted to engage in wonton hyperbole about ridiculous rationalizations, but Sosa spoke for himself, and we see no evidence that he's attempting to con anyone with this explanation.

Over the last decade, Sosa has grown into baseball's most marketable player, and the connection between his accomplishments and the accompanying rewards is clear in light of the way in which Americans treat celebrity. He understands why he benefits from his grand power performances, but he followed this knowledge to an indefensibly mistaken conclusion.

The essential enduring quality of baseball is that everyone played a form of the game as children, and nearly everyone believes they could find some success on a baseball field. Football and basketball require unique size, and hockey, golf, tennis, and especially auto racing require significant financial resources to attain a respectable proficiency. Only soccer requires a lesser familial commitment to succeed, which explains the game's dominant popularity throughout the world.

Of our major sports and athletic spectacles, baseball stands alone as an activity where any kid from anywhere can grow up to be Sammy Sosa, David Eckstein, or Eddie Gaedel through hard work and determination. Even if it lacks the showcase element that holds television audiences consistently enraptured on a weekly basis every fall, baseball echoes the true spirit of traditional American values far more than our alternative entertainment options involving contests of skill.

Fans don't marvel at the exact length of Sosa's homers. We gape that someone so similar to ourselves can perform acts at which most of us can only dream. If we gave semi-pro players metal bats, many of them could launch comparable drives.

Sammy Sosa's home runs, including those hit in batting practice and exhibitions, merit our attention and wonder because we also know that given his legal bat, we could not even make contact with most of the same pitches he drives 400 feet on a consistent basis.

Sosa may have cheated baseball last night, but his subsequent explanation of his actions qualifies as a fundamental breach of trust between a superstar and his followers. While his actions are not criminal, many newspaper columnists have taken offense because of a belief that they represent the average fan and Sosa's actions violated his covenant with that average fan.

Instead of playing music this morning, many Chicago FM stations only discussed Sosa. We listened to an irate mother relate how she needed to explain to her two young sons why their hero cheated. Sosa deserves the condemnation of every parent, and fans should not quickly forgive him, even if he only committed his supposed mental mistake.

While we'd prefer to see him accept his punishment without appeal, this incident should not be allowed to cheapen Roger Clemens' attempt at 300 wins on Saturday. Therefore, the Commissioner's Office must sit Sosa down for 14 days, whereupon he'll appeal for a reduction to the normal 10-day punishment, and following a necessarily expedient ruling, he can begin serving after this weekend. When Sammy returns, we must attempt to treat him like any other Cub. Cheer him when he succeeds, and boo him as Todd Hundley when he fails.

Sosa's punishment should not be a reexamination of his place in history, but rather our abdication of the absurd adulation that apparently led to his egregious actions.