Things that will be more interesting around here this winter than baseball
A Friday List
It sure smells like we got a big ol’ pot of labor strife cookin’ up in the kitchen, don’t it? Owners are claiming other-worldly billions in losses due to the pandemic and are now aggressively trying to depress wages. The CBA expires after next season, so the league is gonna blast balls to walls to best position themselves for the upcoming negoshe. It is worth mentioning of course that teams are all too eager to share with the public every detail of a player’s contract to ensure we all know exactly how much he is making while fiercely defending the proprietary nature of the company’s accounting books. So we know Joey Votto makes $20 million a year because that information is publicly shared, but we don’t really know that MLB lost $3 billion because they want us to take their word on it.
Never forget that as teams continue crying poverty.
Anyway, it’s gonna be a boring winter. And that really sucks, because I really like baseball and it sure seems to me that if ownership could get their collective keesters out of their rears and see consistent year-over-year growth is not only an unrealistic expectation but actually is actively destructive over the medium- and long-term and just fucken chill out we’d all be able to enjoy it a bit. But god forbid, I guess.
So here’s some ideas for how I’m gonna try to entertain myself this winter because MLB can’t even do this one damn thing for me, the fan, who is not only the actual financial reason they do it, but also their own overtly stated reason they do it.
- sit in the dank corner of the basement where that pile of insulation is and eat the crumbs of drywall littered around
- sew shoelaces into the tops of my feet
- toss some onions into the dryer with my bedsheets
- cut the butt pockets out of my jeans while wearing them
- finally get around to giving the kids a bath
- make a plaster cast of my arm and then make a mold from the cast and use the mold to make me a jello arm and put bananas in the jello and then walk around with it saying “this shit is bananas like that No Doubt song!” to everyone I see in the Wal-Mart parking lot
- watch fucking Hillbilly Elegy (no joke fuck that guy)
- go inside the Wal-Mart
- finally get that Burt Bacharach tattoo I’ve been talking about all these years
- spend another $100 at MLB shop because I’m pretty much all talk