Dear Jacqueline Holm [General Manager; Quad City River Bandits]:
It has been a very long while since I last sent you a missive because the road is long for a minor league outlaw. I almost contacted you during a rain out in Stockton, but a hasty retreat was required to escape the charging hobos. Stockton is a vicious town in the rain.
I saw that yet another one of your home series has to be moved to another venue because of flooding, and I thank the baseball gods that I did not earnestly pursue that assistant GM/ride operator position you were flying this past winter. Imagine me a free spirit like myself trapped on that island, writing letters to the Army Corps of Engineers, requesting they re-route the Mississippi River so baseball could be played in the Quad Cities.
I admit I do have recurring nightmares of being trapped on that island with Darren Pitra [Merchandise Manager; Quad City River Bandits] and Evan Wiseman [Productions Manager; Quad City River Bandits], assigned to fend off pirates who want to pillage Modern Woodsman Park. I must say I look smashing in my leather bandolier, but Evan keeps playing Van Halen: the Best of the Sammy Hagar Years, the river keeps rising, and we have to sustain ourselves off Professional Sports Catering food, which takes hours to get even though we are the only ones in the stadium.
The rescue never comes, Jacqueline. It never comes. We are stuck in what Johnny Cougar once called the Great Midwest, either five years ahead of our time or twenty-five behind — no one really knows. I do not make it to Kinston to throw out the first pitch for the Woodies, nor am I the Celebrity Burrito Judge at San Manuel Stadium. I do not make it to Fayetteville to have drinks with Austin Schwartz in a luxury box. I am stuck in minor league hell with sins that will never be absolved. Morning eventually comes, and I awake, thankful the vividness is still just a dream, and today I set out for Fresno for or a game. Or Stockton. Or El Paso. The road goes on forever, but not to San Jose because they charge fifteen bucks to park in a stadium that most leagues would have abandoned in 2010.
Perhaps in late July the road will take me to the Quad Cities — perhaps that Thirsty Thursday on July 26th. Or perhaps the road will take to the Pioneer League. Minor League teams are clamoring for a visit from Bads85 this summer. Strangers are sending me minor league swag. If a River Bandits hoodie or the offer to throw out a first pitch somehow made it to me, well, I would probably be inclines to turn left out of Chicago.
Your friend in baseball,
Bads85
PS: The Waterboys are putting out decent music in the year of 2019!
Dead Religions 