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By Elizabeth Merrill
Thursday, July 9, 2009 KANSAS CITY, Mo. -- The crack pipe looks like a toothpick in the ballplayer's mammoth hands. Who knows why Willie Mays Aikens started, but now he's hooked, sitting on the couch, gut jiggling out of his sweatpants, talking to God, the Holy Spirit and himself. His old Kansas City Royals teammates don't come by to the condo on Locust Street. No, this is a place for guys with giant gaps in their mouths, and in their lives. They're Aikens' only friends. Soon, they'll steal all of his baseball memorabilia. Activate your ESPN Profile!
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