I'm not sure Jose can complete a complex thought. He was an amazing hopped up talent in his prime, but he always came across as bright as a board.

If anything the credits would be:
Story written by XXXXXX based on steroid fueled delusions of Jose Canseco.

Well, since the Yankees are already referred to as The Empire and Stormtroopers are clones...

It's baseball...in space!

Major League of Extraordinary Gentlemen?

Can't be any worse than the science fiction spun by that roid-controlled duffus Roger Clemmens in front of congress. Perhaps it will involve much 'mis-remembering'.

I imagine the story is going to run like this.

Year: 20somethingish Century
Setting: Overly technological future where there is nothing fun left in the world.
Plot: People don't know how to have fun anymore because they stay inside and play with their computers. A wacky scientist, with a penchant for breaking the law, clones the greats of baseball from their gear in Cooperstown. The world is amazed it forgot this majestic game. Things become better and children and animals play together in the street.

Or

Cloned baseball players ruin the sport because now the average Joe can own his own team for $19.99. Their physical characteristics are augmented so they are capable of steroid like feats. There is probably going to be a preachy type somewhere in the novel saying that the homogenization of baseball is ruining the sport. Clones are a shot at the players that are "ruining" the game now. Boohoo.

Bleh, give it a rest, baseball died a long time ago.

There better be soylent greendog sellers in the stands, or it's just not sci fi enough.

Oh. Hell. Yes.

An excerpt:

Jaime Costas walked into the New Amsterdam Yankeez Stadium and was totally surprised to see 6 identical twins of himself. He was like, whoa, for serious. They were just like him, down to the clothes, except for they were 10 years younger. Jaime shuddered with dread, for he knew what he was like 10 years ago.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Jaime asked his former coach and current butler, who had come with him -- and was now Jamie's personal taxi driver in New Amsterdam, New York.
"Si, Jaime... they are mucho athletico."
"There's only one explanation..."
"No, Jaime. No bueno!"
"Zyntherol X! That drug that got me kicked out of the Super Leagues ten years ago and I was never the same because now I had a vengence and became the greatest hero I am today."
Suddenly, the 6 Jaime clones stared at him now in the middle of the pitcher's mound.
"There can be only one!" They screamed at him, all at the same time.
"Oh crap, coach. I can't take these crazed, really really strong guys because I know how strong I was back then, I was on Zyntherol X!"
"But Jaime, now you're on Zyntherol Z!" Said his coach and excellent best father figure.
"I know coach! Bring them on!" Said Jaime as he started to fly, six inches off the ground.

I recall a story about a team that went to some island in Polyniesia and developed/created some super ball players. I recall that they watched films on Ted Williams hitting balls for days, till they could replicate his swing. Don't recall if it was "Sci-Fi" but, as that's just about all I read, I think it must have been.

I want to know what sf editor is going to give a book deal to anyone who doesn't do it the right way??? This jock's name has no weight in the sf community. But then again, a book doctor can be a great thing, and a big Name can get on interview shows. And maybe Opra will love it because it's just dumb enough for her to understand, and then ten million copies are sold and it makes Tor a shit load of money. I want to be this guys ghost! I've done it before, I can do it again. Talk about a job with no ego gratification.