Sports  – they’re ruined for me now. I’ll never be able to look at my TV the same way again.

It’s all about the World Anti-Doping Agency’s new campaign against the drug, sildenafil citrate, what the world knows as Viagra.

It seems that the WADA believes the diamond-shaped blue pills are being used by athletes around the world to create an unfair “competitive advantage.” Viagra, if you didn’t know, causes the dilation of blood vessels and subsequently increases the body’s oxygen-carrying capacity.

Athletes would benefit from being stronger and faster all with more endurance, and as a byproduct, improve their ability to fill their protective cups one would assume.

According to WADA, its use may already be rampant and that means watching sports just became a lot more weird.

Hell, even listening to them will be strange.

Honestly – what’s gonna be the first thing that comes to your mind when you’re watching a basketball game and the call is, “he’s taking it hard to the hole.”

Or in golf, “He stiffed it.”

Or in football, “He got nailed!”

Or in hockey, “He shot it right through the five-hole.”

Or in baseball, “He gave him the high hard one.”

Speaking of baseball, it has long been a particular fascination of my wife (and me as well to be honest) why pitchers play around with themselves on the mound so much.

Mystery solved.

Remember the Wimbledon final? The greatest tennis match ever played that went on for five unbelievably gruelling hours? How did they do it? Maybe they should change the words on the bottle too, “if your tennis match lasts longer than four hours, consult a physician.”

Pole vaulting in the Olympics just became unwatchable. Listening to pool commentary is now out. So are those already uncomfortable fabulous babe, sweaty out of breath athlete sideline interviews the networks love so much.

Some sports will suffer more than others. With all its man-on-man groinal area clutch and grab contact, has football just become a form of not-so-soft gay porn?

I am not the least bit homophobic, but that doesn’t mean I want to turn on my tube and envision what’s going on in the nether regions of my favourite players.

But with this revelation, from now on I know, I won’t be able to help myself.

Let’s say a receiver (oh dear) grabs a ball (oh my) on the sideline and out-sprints the defence to the end zone (ahem). Where will my eyes be straying during his celebration?

They’ll be looking to see if his “competitive advantage” is showing a bit, that’s where.

Steroids, amphetamines, HGH… they were all bad enough.

But this?

This hits us right square in our viewing pleasure.

Cheers – Gavin McDougald – AKA Couch