From AT&T Park in San Francisco I'm Pedro Gomez, ESPN

Scene: Post-game on the night that Barry Bonds finally hits 756. Outside the Giants locker room, ESPN correspondant Pedro Gomez stands, microphone in hand, ready to go on air.

Scott Van Pelt: And now with more on tonight's historic milestone, ESPN's Pedro Gomez joins us from San Francisco. Pedro?

Pedro Gomez: Scott, the mood in San Francisco tonight can best be described as more relief than celebration. 756 marks the end of a long, excruciating struggle that the historic chase's tragic hero will never forget.

SVP: Pedro, you've said that Bonds has expressed relief over the chase coming to an end, has he--

PG: [interrupting] Bonds? I didn't say anything about Bonds. I'm the 'tragic hero' here, Scott. I mean come on, I've been stuck out here covering this pompous clown while you namby pamby assholes sit back in Connecticut cutting half of my pieces from the air.

SVP: [taken aback] Well, uh, Pedro, this really isn't the time or the place to talk about sacrifices you've--

PG: Oh, cut the shit, pretty boy.

[pulls can of beer out of pants pocket and cracks it open]

I'm the one who's watched a promising journalism career head straight down the can while spending three-plus years covering this farce. I'm the one that has to spend every night in a tiny room in a Best Western in Oakland - fucking Oakland - because ESPN only pays $45 a night for my accomadations because of some bullshit about my not having enough "years of service" with the network. Don't tell me about sacrifice.

[takes a long chug of beer, a majority of which ends up on his shirt and face]

Did you know that I sleep with a handgun under my pillow in case I get robbed again? Last time they took my socks, man, my socks!

SVP: Pedro, I'm sorry, but we're gonna have to cut you off...

PG: [loosening tie] Oh, sure, cut me off. Now that the chase is over, who needs ol' Pedro, eh? This is BS. Do you have any idea what I've gone through while covering this neanderthal? The guy will barely talk to me, and when he does it's just five straight minutes of him yelling at me and calling me a fag.

[in between sips of beer] Did you know he and Randy Winn once decided, on a whim, to hold me down, de-pants me and squirt an entire tube of BenGay on my crotch and then laugh hysterically while I ran pantsless around the clubhouse with my nuts on fire frantically looking for a towel only to have Barry Zito and Pedro Feliz snap me with towels until my butt cheeks turned so red my ass looked like John Kruk's face after sprinting up ten flights of stairs?

Or the night I spent hanging from a hook in a bathroom stall with my underwear wedgied so far up my ass I could feel the tag in the back of my throat, all because I asked Barry a question he didn't like.

SVP: Uh, Pedro, this really isn't--

PG: Or the time when he went 0-4 and decided, in the middle of an interview, to give me a pink belly so hellacious I couldn't eat solid food for a week? Does that ever make the air? Does it? Nooo, because I'm too much of a pussy, always toeing the company line, so it's all sunshine and rainbows and stories about how Barry made a great adjustment on a 2-2 pitch from David Wells. Well screw that. From now on, Pedro's only lookin' out for one guy - Pedro.

[chugs remainder of his beer, throws empty can at passing clubhouse attendant, pulls half-empty bottle of Yukon Jack from suit pocket, uncorks with teeth and takes a long pull]

How's this for a report, ass wads? "Barry Bonds was a dick yesterday, he's a dick today and he'll probably be a dick tomorrow." Is that what you've sent me out here to learn so that you fucks have something to put on the air in between some asinine Nascar story and the latest installment of "Who's Now?" Gimme a fuckin' break.

You know what, fuck this. I'm done.

[takes another long pull of whiskey, and pulls out a handgun from inside waist of his pants]

How's this for a signoff, cocksuckers? ESPN can lick the remnants of Ben Gay from my chemically scarred nutsack and those of you watching at home can fuck yourselves with the rosin bag Bonds once threatened to shove up my ass. How's that go over with the soulless pricks at Disney?

[begins firing randomly in the air]

[yelling amid screaming passersby] From AT&T Park in the darkest depths of hell, I'm Pedro Gomez, , ESP MOTHERFUCKIN' N.

[cut to Van Pelt in the stuido]

SVP: [clears throat] Coming up next on SportsCenter, did Derek Jeter and the bombers have enough firepower to hold off a late surge from the Blue Jays?

Neil Everett: And later, our "Who's Now" panel tackles the hot issue of the day: Anna Kournikova or Sidney Crosby? Hear what our experts had to say. Stay tuned.

[cut to commercial]