Dear Mike Abramson [General Manager; Hartford Yard Goats]:
Hello! I hope your little golf soiree went well this weekend as the city of Hartford certainly could use additional revenues from Dunkin Donuts Park to pay down the construction loans quicker. You might be wondering why does this Bads85 guy keep writing me when I never respond to his wonderful missives in hopes that he will just go way. Well, Mike, let me explain how this works. Winter is a hardship for the wizened minor league ambassadors, so we have to figure out a way to get to Spring Training without losing our minds. Some guys just sin in the living room, staring out the window. Other guys embark on crime sprees. Me, I write minor league executives to share oral tradition about tales of the road. I am Ulysses S. Grant at Galena; I need a new war.
Your organizations was fortunate enough to attract my attention for a variety of reasons, mainly its adept use of social media, plus that old Hartford Whalers Zamboni you have. In sort, you pretty much hit the lottery because of my great spiritual wealth and knowledge of minor league baseball. Even if you never respond, I can already feel our bond strengthening. Not to sound ominous or anything, but the last organization that decided to ignore my missives experienced massive floods on the Mississippi this past season and had to play most of the first half of the season on the road. I really had no control over that, but the baseball gods work in mysteriously ways. I think my good friend Wade Howell [Vice President, Down East Wood Ducks and Hickory Crawdads] summed it up best when he said, “Shit, I sure as hell would have you writing letters to us instead of about us.”
So what are the plans for that Whalers’ Zamboni? I hope you are hiring the best people to restore it to its former glory. As I am sure you know, a Zamboni is a special vehicle that is a portal to the soul of the community. They also offer a wealth of promotional ideas. Your organization can have the mascots, Chompers and Chew Chew race it between innings while lucky little children whose parents dropped down a ten spot can ride and wave to the crowd. If your organization were really motivated, it could procure another Zamboni and could could have jousting contests in the concourse between innings.
I am sure as we trudge through winter we can brainstorm all sorts of other ways to make money of the Zamboni while creating memories, but we really need to talk about your mascots. Just what look were you guys going for with those things? If creepy, disturbing, and sure to leave emotional scars on children was the goal, well, you guys nailed it. How many children who frequents your games have nightmares about flannel and polka dotted furry monsters living their beds? I mean, these two are American Gothic on acid, or Norman Rockwell on ‘shrooms. I know mascot costumes are very expensive, so you do not need to relegate them to the trash heap, just dress them better. I would suggest railroad garb. Children trust a conductor and love trains.
It gets late early out here so I better wrap this up.
Your friend in baseball,
One response to “Once Again I Reach Out To the Yard Goats”
No, you’re Captain Benjamin Willard, waiting for a mission.