Dear Sean Peterson [Director of Ticket Operations and Sales; Inland Empire 66ers]:
Ask not for whom the bell tolls because it tolls for George Bateman {Ticket Sales Coordinator; Inland Empire 66ers]. When you told me last night at the 66ers’ Season Ticket Holder Barbecue that George has left the organization, I was initially shocked because he had just received his own business cards. However, the minor league front office dance card is a fickle but fierce foxtrot that often sees savage turnover. Compatriots sally forth at great frequencies, often without saying good bye, disappearing in the night on a train that came for someone else, only to surface a few weeks later with the Tennessee Smokies. Or the Erie Seawolves. Or with the Tulsa Drillers.
Not you though. You are a rock that even Sysyphus could not move. In fact, I hereby deem that you have earned you California League nickname, “Rock.” Not “The Rock” as you need no articles before your name. So now we move forward, Rock, without George, but that just is the way it is. We do not have the luxury of looking back as the minors are a perpetual one way avenue, and we can only grip our favorite bottle of bourbon, take a pull, and continue down the road with Saint Christopher in the backseat, just looking to get hurt. Outsiders often mistake this for the road to damnation, but we know better, Rock. Salvation is not what we seek; we are just looking for that moment that the uninitiated will never taste — that moment when the roar of the crowd tickles the pitch of the perfect promotion.
As the man on the radio says,
Ain’t nothing left to do but walk the streets so dark
And whisper I love you to a moment there inside your heart
Let the trumpets sound, but listen to the morning dew
And fill yourself with what you found
We are going to have to break-in George’s replacement properly though. Imagine when this newb receives his first letter from me. I do hope GM Joe does a little better job vetting his employees next season. I have to tell you, there were a couple people walking around in employee gear that looked like this job was an alibi for their big bank heist in a few weeks. It is never good thing when someone on payroll is scarier than some of the miscreants on the season ticket holder list.
Speaking of season ticket holders, it is painfully obvious by 2019 Monday attendance figures that the 66ers full season ticket base is rather anemic. As the Thirsty Thursday Ambassador, this falls out of my job description, but since I am a giver, I will offer SAGE ADVICE. Have a promotional sale this offseason named ONE Equals TWO or FOUR. Here is how it works: allow someone to buy a single season ticket package, then spread those seats out or thirty-five or eighteen games with seats right next to each other. Exclude July Fourth, but throw in Opening Night, which will boost the attendance at the home opener.
You essentially do this anyway with the Ticket Redemption thingy, but market the shit out of this this rather than have twosomes and foursomes buy packages that do not add up to seventy. People will think they are getting more for less, and boom, you have that sweet, sweet season ticket money in the bank. Sweeten the deal by allowing these freshly minted season ticket holders the option to purchase Sunday through Wednesday tickets at some absurdly low price like three dollars. Flood social media and emails with this promotion. Maybe have GM Joe pose in something tight for a little beefcake action. Maybe have me dance.
Speaking of GM Joe, did you see that iron man throwing batting practice to the masses at the barbecue? I was going to step in and take him yard, but I figured he would try to put one under my chin, and I would have to charge the mound to uphold my honor. I would never receive a 2019 California All Star Game polo if I wrestled him to the ground.
I need to go, Rock. Training for next year’s Beer Mile started this week.
Your friend in baseball,
Bads85
PS: George could not really launch a hot dog anyway.
Dead Religions 