Dear Corey Bungo [Vice President, Corporate Partnerships; Winston-Salem Dash]:
When I was a young child, I dreamed of working diligently in school and growing up to be a dash. Other children did not share my vision, and often made fun of me for this goal, but I have outlived most of them as they have died of unnatural causes. Imagine my excitement when I realized for organization has been rebranded The Dash instead of those odious Warthogs. Dashes are virtuous creatures that are more beautiful than unicorns (and fart much less) while Warthogs are bastard children of unholy coupling of wildebeests and feral swine. Of course the fact that I am just finding out about this now even though the change happened in 2009 reflects rather poorly of your promotion department, almost certainly a result of a top heavy corporate accounts front office.
Minor league baseball is spreading beyond regional boundaries as the internet and UPS has allowed interstate merchandise sales. Some of your fellow teams in the Carolina League have realized this and have developed exquisite logos that are worn proudly from Southern California country clubs to strip clubs in Montreal. I was trembling with excitement when I discovered the Dash, thinking one of God’s greatest creatures would soon be tattooed to my soul. Little did I know that your team was named after a hyphen, not a real dash. I was quite shocked to see your logo was one of those most phallic images in all of sports.
There is absolutely no pretense with your team logo — it is a throbbing, elongated cock. From a purple throbbing base to the about to explode, white mushroom head, your organization’s logo is an almost perfect one eyed monster. Even the truncated version looks like an old man’s fatty.
You might be unaware, but the Fayetteville and Down East clubs are involved with some serious dancing at the phallic altar, poised to embark on Wood Cup this season, but they are not even on the same playing field as the Dash. Your organization’s logo is a magnificent blue balled ramrod, screaming to be gripped in pleasure. I have never quite seen anything quite like it, and I have been a minor league road warrior for over twenty-five years. I was quite apprehensive when I heard your mascot’s name was Bolt, wondering what homoerotic image would be standing on your dugouts, but someone in upper management must have drawn a line in the sand.
I am a bit surprised your numerous corporate sponsors have no qualms being coupled to such a pork sword, but hey, more power to them. I must raise a toast to you for having an insignia so emboldened. If only the warthog were so virile, it still might be your mascot.
Your friend in baseball,
PS: Grip it and rip it!