Wherein we dispense advice via letters to those in need.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Dear Emperor of Baseball,

Recently we’ve seen that you’ve painted yourself into quite a corner, re: Barry Bonds and the Most Hallowed Record In Recorded Sports History. We are here, as a private service, to aid you in your quest to find an fair and amicable end to this unfortunate occurrence.

But first, your excellency, we would be remiss if we were to not take you to task, however gently, for a few choice comments that have come from the Commissioner’s office, vis a’ vis The Massive Noggin’d One and his chase of said Hallowed Record, heretofore referred to only as “MHRIRSH”. You have complained…no, that’s too harsh a word for one as delicate as yourself. “Pontificated.” You have pontificated, much as a pope would, regarding the MHRIRSH, the qualifications of The Massive Noggin’d One to hold said MHRIRSH, and, apparently, the fact that you have to work for a living. And while this may make sense to one as enlightened as yourself, you are leaving many of the faithful saying, to themselves, in between beatitudes, “Seriously, dude, WTF?”

To the lowly and unwashed, not befitting of your hallowed presence, the situation can be summed up thusly. The Massive Noggin’d One is currently playing. Therefore, The Massive Noggin’d one has not broken any rules (of Major League Baseball -- grand jury indictments notwithstanding). If TMNO had, at any point, broken a rule (put in place through Your Divinity’s discretion), he would have posthaste been dispatched to the Major League’s version of Siberia (the independent leagues -- see Canseco, Jose). While arguments between reasonable people can be had, indeed, have been had, regarding the presupposition of guilt, the fact is that every time TMNO and his swollen knees and cankles plays an out into a double in left field of PacBellSBCAT&TFieldPark, it is further proof of his innocence in the eyes of the Holy Protectorate of The Game. We realize there is more nuance to this situation, and agree with the unspoken, yet clearly enunciated, opinion of Your Spiffiness, namely that The Brown Paper Sack of Fault for the current scandal should be laid at the doorstep of the Players’ Union, ignited, and the Doorbell of Blame should be rung, so that Donald Fehr could then, with The Boot of Self Interest, stomp said sack, getting fault all over himself and the players surrounding him. And incidentally, yes, the mere thought of hearing Don Fehr’s wife, screeching like a tired, defeated banshee, “don’t put it out with your boots, Don!” delights us to no end.

Which brings us to the question of the hour. Should Your Grace bless the eventual securing of the MHRIRSH by TMNO with his Holy Presence? The answer, perhaps unfit for delicate sensibilities as uttered by the uncouth and improper mouths of the common rabble such as ourselves, is that yes, The Big Enchilada should not only attend the occasion, but should embrace TMNO, should grace the attending crowd with a speech, should even, if asked, dance a sporty jig at said event. It is the commissioner’s duty, his requirement, yes, his Day Job to do so.

This has dragged on too long, like the celebrity of competitive eating champions. By letting it get to this point, Your Holiness, you have risked revealing yourself as one not able to make decisions. Hoping it would never come to this was never a wise strategy. Hope without action is rarely a wise strategy.

The solution that eluded you so completely, was simply to answer at the first opportunity that of course you would be there. Why wouldn’t you? After all, it is your day job.

Bastards Public Relations

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