Sometimes Austin Needs Cajoling

Dear Austin [Vice President, Sales & Marketing; Fayetteville Woodpeckers]:

I can tell from the lack of your responses that you are deeply concerned about the stadium delays and costs overruns, what with Mayor Mitch being worthless these days as he concentrates on train whistles and widening the road his on which his funeral home sits. As a veteran of stadium openings, I can tell you it will not get any easier in the next few weeks as stress will cause your large intestine to try to eat your pancreas. However, all you really need for Opening Night is working beer taps, and your little baseball cathedral can be a work in progress. Hard liquor flowing cannot hurt either.

In an effort to ease your burden, allow me to suggest a name for your mascot: Breezy, you know because he is cool like the breeze. Don’t call him Woody because Aryan prison gangs will adopt him as one of their own. Plus ,whenever Breezy first makes an appearance eat game, the PA can blast Skynyrd, and people will dance gleefully with our larger than life cockaded ‘Pecker. Or you can call him Ozzie and play “Crazy Train” when he runs on the field. Just do not let my buddy Nick be the guy in the suit as I cannot lose him to a heat stroke.

Speaking of strokes, yes, I just put forth another stroke of genius. I am really good at this, Austin, as GM Joe of the Inland Empire 66ers knows. I think we are about to wrap up negotiations as he is afraid I am going to offer my services elsewhere and turn a moribund promotion department into a force. I think the only thing left to settle is my official title. I want to be called the King of Pain or the Butcher of Crimea, but GM Joe does not think that is fan friendly. I also do not think he is too keen on my idea of combining Faith and Family Night with the Christian Persecution Festival. I think we get all the church groups in the stadium, then SURPRISE! LIONS!

Hey, I hear the Down East Wood Ducks are going to have $1.00 Busch Light and Natural Light 12 Oz cans on Thirsty Thursdays. I am pretty sure those arethe same shitty beers, but one can’t argue with the price. Maybe those dorks will have blind taste tests on the dugouts. Do you know Fridays down there are Food Truck Fridays? Their promotion schedule is out, and I have to wonder if the ‘Peckers have even started theirs. I gotta say, those guys, led by some dude named Wade Howell, are kicking your ass right now. Wade Howell, man, that sounds like the grandson Thurston left behind when he went on that three hour cruise with the Gilligan and the Skipper. Are you a Ginger or Mary Ann guy?

Do you know they call themselves the Woodies? They are already infringing on your name and innuendos. This is why you need to get the ‘Peckers thing going. Woodies are for middle school boys; ‘Peckers are for men. Right now, these guys are lapping you, and they only have four full time employees in their front office. I am not going to stand for this. We need to ride down there to explain to Wade that the party is over. We should probably bring back some of their food trucks too since your guys have contracted with Professional Sports Catering who use the blood of the labor force as condiments.

You probably have not heard yet, but I have started an effort to picket Peoria Stadium during the Cactus League because of the failure of Professional Sports Catering to make amends for the Beer Line Fiasco last fall. Actually, I really have not done much because I am tired, plus the Super Bowl is this weekend. I was sort of hoping someone on Twitter would take the reigns on this, but that probably is not going to happen, so I will have to do everything, as usual. Every trip to the desert is like this, but is is a labor of love. I just might hire some crises actors to get our point across though.

A sad thought just occurred to me — as long as you work for the “Peckers, you probably will never venture to the Cactus League with us. It really must suck knowing that your organization is tied to the Grapefruit League and long bus rides. The rite of spring is a chore in Florida, plus you have to contend with all this Ohio transplants that moved there just to die. I think you need to start re-thinking your career as your soul is in jeopardy with the Grapefruit League. Go West, Young Man. The California League is calling.

Your friend in baseball,

PS: Now more than ever, Respect the ‘Pecker!

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