Take Them Out to the Guillotine the commune’s Stan Abernathie doesn’t know who bought him this Bud Ice, but he’s grateful none the less
Monday, Nov. 12, 2001
There was a lot of talk this season about contraction in baseball. In
other words, rounding up the teams that are too pathetic to wear the mantle
of MLB and having them taken out back to be shot, much like my last three
dogs who had the plague and my wife after she broke her leg power-walking.
Some say this would be good for the sport: to thin out the ranks so that
only the strong survive, and throwing the rest to the wolves of more popular
sports, like football and croquet. Others argue that it’s just a ploy by the
owners, a bluff to get the players to agree to electroshock tracking collars
at the next contract negotiation meetings. Everywhere, people are talking
about it: from a WWII vet I met in a barbershop on Tuesday to a traveling
salesman I met in another barbershop Saturday afternoon. The buzz in the
air is palpable.
What do I think about the impeding contraction? Good riddance! The teams most
often rumored to be under the axe are the Montreal Expos, the Florida Marlins,
the Tampa Bay Devil Rays and the Minnesota Twins—not a half-dozen men between
them. I mean that: the Devil Rays are actually a little-league team from
Georgia who won some kind of Cheerios Sweepstakes to play in the big leagues.
The last time they played the Yankees half the team went home with wedgies and
pink-bellies. So they’re an easy call.
How about the Montreal Expos? Frankly, I’m surprised a team named after an
off-brand of panty hose has lasted this long. No need to worry about protests
if we put them out of their misery, a gay pride parade in Nebraska draws more
folks than an Expos game. I went to an Expos game one time on fan appreciation
day, thinking I’d get a bobble-headed doll or something, right? Wrong. I went
home with Vladimir Guerrero, it turns out every ticket-buying fan got a player
for the weekend. He sealed my driveway and helped me dredge out the basement: a
very nice young man. It was probably our folly in thinking that Canadians would
be interested in American baseball anyway, since what they call “baseball” is
a far different sport that involves whiskey and chainsaws.
What about the Florida Marlins? Their problem is exactly the opposite of the
Devil Rays: the youngest guy on the team is 76, and he’s the bat boy. I guess
that’s what you get for putting a team in a place where the state bird is Betty
White. I saw a Marlins game once where the third baseman was killed three times
during the game: twice by line drives and the third time he had a stroke during
the seventh-inning stretch. They have more EMTs in their stadium than the
Cardinals have hot-dog vendors, and their games take six hours because they’re
constantly having to revive the players (and some fans) with the electroshock
paddles. And did I mention that they’re slower than David Wells in a Jacuzzi
full of glue? The entire team had one stolen base last year, and that only
happened because the catcher for the Brewers, Snapper McGee (who had been
traded from the Marlins only weeks earlier), died on the play and hence
couldn’t throw to second.
So the Marlins are out. That leaves the Minnesota Twins. Here’s my question to
you: has anyone actually seen the Twins in the last few seasons? I don’t recall
that I have and I’m starting to get worried that they might be buried in the
snow up there or may have been eaten by Sasquatches. I recommend we send some
St Bernards northward to confirm that the team is even still there before we
talk about folding their franchise.
The thing I want to know, though, is why only four teams? Surely these aren’t
the only miserable excuses for a baseball team that we could rightfully give
the ol’ Kervorkian treatment to. Are we sure anyone in Anaheim got those flyers
under their windshield wipers letting them know they have a team? The last time
I was at an Angels game, the team didn’t even show up, and I spent the
afternoon playing pickle with their coach and a janitor. I heard the Kansas
City Royals had to bus in hobos for their games this season, since the only
fans that showed up were the players’ moms, and they were driving the coaches
crazy, loudly second-guessing all of their decisions.
I’m sure we could cut a lot more teams if we were serious about ridding this
sport of losers and has-beens. Who would cry a tear for the Verno Beach
Needledicks or the Fresno Filibusters? What about the Woody Creek Dirty Liars
or the Mason City Menopause? Now that I think of it, I’m kind of tired of the
Chula Vista Screaming Dandies, the Eugene Scat-Flinging Apes and the Apple
Valley Dipshits, too. I say off with their heads, every last one.
Look, I’ve got nothing against any of these towns or their fans and I love an
underdog just as much as the next guy. I’m just tired of being called on to
pinch-hit every time I’ve sat down and just gotten comfortable with my beer
and sausage-dog, that’s all.
Milestones
the commune's scratch 'n sniff look at last year's office potluck
Opportunities
Pants a Capitalist
Free Virus Baggies
Take a Kitten, Please
the commune book selections
the commune's Bear in Rearview
the commune's Big Book of Duke
Faces of the commune
the commune 100: Leaders and Revolutionaries
the commune 100: Traitors and Noodledicks
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Site Map's Somewhere in the Glovebox |
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Terms of Gary Busey |
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