Take Them Out to the Guillotine

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.