At an unexpected news conference this morning, Commissioner of Baseball Bud Selig announced he was imposing a ban on all of Major League Baseball for the foreseeable future. Selig, clearly tired of all the steroid issues that have plagued baseball for most of this century, stated, “It’s in the best interests of baseball for baseball to simply cease to exist as a spectator sport for a while. The National Pastime needs a timeout!”
Selig, sweating profusely in a sweater lent to him by former Presidential candidate Rick Santorum, urged people to “watch some other shows on T.V. for a while, perhaps some old Cheers reruns, or that dancing stars show that young people seem to like.”
When asked if his decision would be challenged by the Player’s Union, he thundered, “By God, everyone knows the players would be just as happy to sit home and collect unemployment compensation, like all the other low-lifes out there.” His comments were met with thunderous applause from the thunderous applause machine his entourage had installed in time for the press conference.
Clearly encouraged by the positive response he’d artificially generated, he put his note cards aside and began to speak off the cuff, proclaiming that starting today, he’d begun a “To Hell With Baseball” campaign, insisting that to save baseball, he would first need to burn it down, seed the ground of every Major League Stadium with salt, and sell those who toiled in the low minor leagues into slavery.
“If you can’t enslave those who would someday embarrass the sport with PED use, then, from where I stand, the Commissioner’s Office isn’t worth a bucket of that warm beer they sell at Fenway for $18.00 bucks a pop.”
When reminded that without the revenue generated by ticket and merchandise sales, and cable T.V. contracts, some teams might not last long if this ban should continue indefinitely, Selig scoffed, “Do you really believe that a bunch of teams owned by millionaires and billionaires gives a rats ass about that stuff? That’s all just funny Monopoly money to them. Besides, if the Economic Crash of ’08 is precedent, then all Steinbrenner, Jr. and the rest of those guys will have to do is go up to Capitol Hill with their gloved hands out, cry poverty, and someone up there will bail them out. I’m surprised you guys hadn’t thought of that. That’s how we think all the time.”
As Selig was completing his remarks, Alex Rodriguez, who had been walking down the hall from his penthouse suite above the conference center where Selig was delivering his speech, happened to drift into the large, velvet-encased room. Selig beamed as he called A-Rod up to the stage, then lifted A-Rod’s hand up into the air proclaiming, “And I couldn’t have done any of this without my good friend and future business partner, Alex Rodriguez.”
Rodriguez, looking both sheepish and cheap in his Gatsby-inspired attire, responded, “All I have to say is I learned from the best, Mr. Selig. No one can take a great game like baseball and piss it down the drain like you can.” Selig, obviously moved by A-Rod’s calculated attempt to ingratiate himself with an older white guy nearly as rich as himself, punched A-Rod lightly in the arm and declared, “My friend, we are just beginning. By the time we’re finished, absolutely no one in his right mind will ever switch on a baseball game again.”
Rodriguez, distracted by his own reflection in a floor-to-ceiling mirror across the room, winked at himself and responded mechanically, “I’m just happy to be a part of all this.”
Selig then turned serious to the T.V. cameras that were now overheating his smoldering toupee and concluded, “At least no one not watching any longer will be able to say that baseball is a dirty game, because a game not played at all is as clean as a game can get.”