Alas, now in the face of overwhelming evidence, I must finally admit what you have all suspected all along: I used steroids to obtain my massive (head) size.

I started working out while quite young to try to gain an advantage upon my Little League peers. At age 12, I was lifting 3 times a week and regularly exercising with a running coach to improve my base-thievery. By high school, I was in the gym 5 times a week, drinking three protein shakes a day and pounding Power bars in class.

Of course, it helped me greatly on the baseball diamond. Hits that normally would have gone for gap-shot doubles left the yard because of my increased strength. I led the baseball team to back-to-back state titles my sophomore and junior years in high school--I was a veritable deity on the field.

And yet, as great as things were on the field, I never quite fit in off of it--not even in my own dugout. Come to think of it, things weren't even that great on the field. You know how people with big heads have to cut the back of their ball caps to squeeze into them? Well, I had the opposite problem: I had to cut the back off my hat, press it together and tape it back up to get it to stay on my head. That's right, I had a small dome.

I couldn't keep any of the batting helmets on my head either--I had to special order a T-ball helmet. It didn't help that it said "Pro T-ball Helmet" in bright pink, large letters on both sides. I was constantly tormented by other teams and even jealous teammates.

"Hey, little-head!" opposing pitchers would shout while I was at bat. "How come your head's so small?"

"Yeah," a third-baseman would add. "This guy's head is tiny!"

Before my senior year, I knew I couldn't take it any longer. I had two rings and was named the local paper's M.V.P. the previous season, yet was never treated with respect by my classmates. It was at this point that I started juicing.

Big heads, you see, have always been the envy of mankind as well as a factor in natural selection. The dinosaurs, a fearsome species that invented a form of calculus that we couldn't even begin to comprehend, had massive domes--no coincidence that they ruled the earth up until 5,000 years ago, and in fact, STILL EXIST. (http://objectiveministries.org/kidz/)

The results were remarkable. I went from a size 4 hat to a 6 in two months. Suddenly, girls began to pay more attention to me. "Wow, your head is almost normal-sized!" they'd say. "Would you like to come back to my place?"

By the time the spring season rolled around, I had grown to an amazing size 12 head! I regularly injected myself with human growth hormone as well as anabolics. It was only through vicious neck-workouts that I could even support the weight of my oversized, sexy melon. That season, I was on base a remarkable 82 percent of the time, getting beaned a state-record 42 times.

Sadly, there is no happy ending to this story. By playoff time, I was wearing a size 16 hat--except that there is no such thing. Actually, I had to cut and stitch up 4 size 8 hats to create one size 16 cap (don't ask me about the math, your puny dome could never process this sort of advanced trigonometry). For a batter's helmet, I wore a small wheelbarrow.

In my first at-bat of our first-round game, not surprisingly, I took a two-seamed fastball upside my head. I went to take my base, but alas, never made it. The weight had finally proved too much--although I originally thought I was walking to first, I was, in fact, doing the curly shuffle, orbiting my gi-normous skull. I did approximately 6 complete revolutions before I realized my dome was resting on top of home plate.

Now recuperating, I'm hoping to walk again soon, and perhaps eventually play baseball again. For now though, kids, the lesson is this: As Aristotle said, only do steroids in moderation, for it is the mean in which lies virtue.