In my search to find something of interest to write about this afternoon, I came across this gem of an article by some mustachioed gentleman calling himself Ray Ratto. The article posits the question, “What could be worse than Frank McCourt?” and then answers itself by saying, “Well, a lot of things.”
As fun as it is to mock silly mainstream baseball articles, it’s probably not wise to make it a habit. For one, it’s too goddamn easy. For two, the art has already been perfected elsewhere and it’s not a very smart move to invite comparisons upon oneself that will prove to find one lacking. That being said, it’s Friday afternoon, and the first beer of the weekend has officially been opened.* We better get a move on before this turns into something altogether aloof and absurd, or before nothing gets written at all.
*We are enjoying a Kingpin Triple Hopped Double Red Ale at the moment. It hails from the Bridgeport Brewery in Portland, Oregon and is quite good. I believe it is currently fashionable to talk about baseball nerdery and craft beer at the same time and would like to align myself with this growing trend.
I guess my main issue with the title of this article is the inclusion of the words “a lot of things” in the answer to the question. I have no doubt there are a few choice scenarios that could emerge from this Dodgers fiasco that would indeed harm the team even more than Frank McCourt already has with his borderline unfathomable disregard for fiscal responsibility and sound decision making, but to say there is “a lot” reeks of sensationalism to me. In order to qualify our possibilities as “a lot” I believe we would have to enter the realm of fiction to get there. I suppose Marge Schott could come crawling undead from her grave, and buy the team with proceeds earned after her arrival from prime-time interviews, willful scientific research, and the selling of samples from the Earth’s molten inner core. She’d trade Matt Kemp for John McDonald and then just release the rest of the team’s non-Caucasian players, ensuring decades of further Dodger’s destruction and suffering—there are only so many Jamey Carrolls in this world. Jerry Jones could buy the team and then put a 78-foot 3D television right in front of home plate, all but guaranteeing that no popular free agent would sign with the Dodgers ever again. I mean, you literally can’t pitch or hit with a television in your way, who would sign up for that shit?
We could continue to pile on this way. I think Hitler and other popular dictators from history are still available for some imaginary baseball team ownership, although after all that Marge Schott stuff I think we may have reached our quota on uncouth prose. Remember that earlier warning about the aloofness and the absurdity? I think we’re almost there. This beer is 7.5%. Great value.