Dear Dave Heller [President and CEO of Main Street Baseball]:
Good day, kind sir! I see you have still not filled the position of General Manager with the Wilmington Blue Rocks. You lost a legend when Andrew Layman, the man who brought us Mr. Celery, retired rather than face Bobby Manfred’s cruel new world. You probably should look to fill a legend’s position with another legend, and that is where your old acquaintance Bads85 can fill the the void, plus help your organization handle the transition to the new Mid Atlantic League.
As you well know, my minor league experience is extensive, dating back to the beer gardens at Fiscalini Field in San Bernardino in 1991 when the California League was still the Wild West. Thirsty Thursdays back then meant $1.00 sixty-four ounce pitchers of Coors Light. Currently I have business cards bestowed to me by Joe Hudson [General Manager; Inland Empire 66ers] to prove that I am the official Thirty Thursday Ambassador of MiLB and beyond. While great responsibilities come with the title, my true contributions to MiLB come from my unofficial positions of Promotions Whisperer and Smoke Jumper of the Devil’s Arcade.
I am almost certain that you are cognizant that I have worked with numerous minor league executives over the years, many who have left the business because of the lack of a decent wage. While I treasure my time with these souls, there are only two types of people in this industry: lifers or quitters. But I digress, In 2019, my travels brought Daniel S. Frawley Stadium. I had been doing some heavy lifting with the front offices in Fayetteville and Kinston, as was passing through Wilmington en route to the Eastern League. Jason Estes [former Director of Marketing; Wilmington Blue Rocks] had promised me a Whit Goodman Bobblehead, but our signals were crossed, and I never met him that night. Rumor was he had passed out under his desk after too many Wild Turkey shots, but I doubt a consummate professional like Jason would do that. I do believe you organization still owes me one those Whit Goodman bobbleheads though. I am sure that can be easily resolved if I come work for your organization. If not, well, we both have good lawyers.
I see you are “looking for a joyful leader who is smart, dynamic, intellectually curious and able both to inspire and work collaboratively with a diverse group of people.” I have all that tattooed to my soul, so we do not have to dwell too much on that other than to say I will be so much more than just the gorgeous face of the Blue Rocks, I will be the Shane Falco who get the club across the goal line. Or the Johnny Utah who get his man. Or the quasi ghost that gets the girl at the lake house.
My vision for the Blue Rocks is straightforward: use the team to turn Wilmington into the epicenter of the Mid Atlantic Coast. The path is clear — expanded corporate sponsorship and high profile promotions. Yes, the Blue Rocks have an exemplary corporate sponsor base that is the envy of most MiLB teams, but unless a front office is trying to double their sponsorships, they are doing it wrong. Retention and expansion are the two cornerstones of corporate sponsorship, and Blue Rocks region is begging for seed to be sown. Who better to help spread that seed than the current President-Elect of the United States, who was once a lifeguard in Wilmington? Invite Mr. Biden to throw out the first pitch of the first Saturday night game of the season, and have the team in alternative Corn Pop jerseys, and not only do you win ALL the Golden Bobbleheads, but corporate sponsors from Newark to Alexandria are going to want some Blue Rock action.
While moving to a new league, the Blue Rocks do not quite need a full rebrand, but some re-tooling is required, especially in the mascot area. No, we are not talking about throwing Mr. Celery in a blender, but perhaps having him fall in love with Miss Clamato, and presto, Bloody Caesar alternative uniforms. And your moose? Well, it needs to get loose and develop an outlaw side. The Pat O’Connor (The king is dead! Long Live the King!) organized family fun era is over. Blue Winkle needs a shooter, and Rubble needs an ammo belt.
Let’s get to an important part of this negotiation: my salary requirements. Fortunately for you, I am spiritually wealthy, so I do not require a great deal of financial compensation. Humility also dictates that I decline a personal parking space. I would request a golf cart that resembles the Oscar Mayer Weinermobile to tool around the facility, but even that is negotiable. However, please realize the mere idea that I have interest in this position is a huge boon for your organization’s reputation. When other clubs hear that Bads85 is an official candidate for this open position, they are going to realize that Blue Rocks are flexing some serious minor league street cred.
As for “constant interaction with city and state officials”, please know that I have watched all episodes of The Wire at least three times, plus I used to run with former Senator Barbara Boxer (CA) in a relationship that can only be politely described as torrid. Babs and I taught each other a thing or two.
I look forward to hearing from you quickly. In deference to transparency, I will let you know that other organizations are very interested in my services, but you probably already knew that.
Your friend in baseball,
Bads85
Dead Religions 