Question to the Yankiverse: Would our magical, incredible, Hollywood storybook 2013 World Series victory be tainted?

Two in a row! Jeet hitting off a tee! Youk on the Stairmaster! Only 6-and-a-half games out of the Reviled Card, with KC looking over its shoulder! Yeah, baby! We're no longer the Hafner-empty Yankwads, driven by cheap. The A-Rod bombers are back, MONEY! And the world is looking a little bit of Grandish!

Nevertheless, now that Pinstripe pride and power hath been restored, the faithful fan faces a disturbing conundrum. (And as far as conundrums go, there is nothing worse than a disturbing one):

Because of A-Rod and his - well - issues, could our miracle march to the 2013 World Selig Series be darkened by allegations of performance enhancing elixirs and/or surgical augmentations?

Think of it: We win eight of 10 the rest of the way, rising to steal that vaunted fifth AL post-season perch from the adorable, peach-fuzzed Royals. We win the one-game playoff behind Hiroki Kuroda, best pitcher in the game. We roll past the Tigers, as we did this weekend, and then beat the Redsocks behind a merciless onslaught - (rhymes with Don Slaught) - of A-Rod and Youk/swinging the cuke! Then we face the Pittsburgh Former Yankees - good grief, do they have Bernie Williams, too? - and take them in four. Sorry, A.J.

Would critics claim the 2013 World Series was tainted by some colonel's secret sauce? Will this undermine our victory ride down the Canyon of Heroes? Would we face a rain of syringes?

I say, hell, dammit: If America runs on Dunkin' Donuts, why shouldn't the Yankees do something about their Low T? And this is no time to be a contrite or beholden fan. If MLB wants innocence and purity, let it televise Tee Ball. Have you heard John Sterling's last two WinWarbles? The man hit a solid 7.00 seconds on each, without straining a chord. He's gotta be juicing.

Listen: The baseball world wants an Evil Empire in the same way the WWF needs the Undertaker. So be it. The Yankiverse needs to step to the plate and supply one. Only the nastiest villains - the Freddies, the Chuckies, the Jasons - become Hollywood franchises. You start questioning your villainhood, and the box office plummets. From now on, every chance we get, we gotta kick a puppy. Hell, the team can wear Kevlar vests in its victory parade.

Eight out of ten gets us a one-day ticket to Kuroda Land. Two in a row, baby! Two in a row! I can feel the evil rising! Look to the darkness, Luke. Two in a row.