Dear Anderson Rathbun [General Manager, Burlington Sock Puppets]:
Congratulation on the hiring of your new Director of Promotions, who will be a fine addition to you staff as he brings decades of minor league experience wherever he goes. Once upon a time in the wild west of San Bernardino, legend has it that he invented the Beer Batter at Fiscalini Field on a summer night so hot even angels were pleading for a tumultuous downpour. Sixty-four ounce pitchers of Coors’ Light were only $1.00 on Thirsty Thursdays back then, and when the crowd howled at the night, the night answered back.
You might be thinking “Wow, this is great, but I did not hire a Director of Promotions.” You are correct, Anderson — another example of why you are one of the sharpest front office minds in what remains of the Appalachian League. You did not hire anyone; I appointed myself your Director of Promotions. Let’s face it, despite the 37% increase in attendance last year and all those numerous accolades you should be very proud of, you need a wizened MiLB veteran like me to take your club to the next level.
I know you might also be thinking, “Whoa, whoa Bads85! We cannot afford a person of your expertise!” Again you would be correct, but since I am spiritually wealthy, monetary compensation does not interest me. Plus, I will still be living high in the hog from all that sweet, sweet cash Allan Benavides [General Manager; Eugene Emeralds] will be paying me for my work with his team past and present. You do not have to pay me anything, not even a team store discount, although 20% is sort of the standard rate on the MiLB circuit.
Since you will not be putting me on an actual payroll, our successful partnership will be based on my terms. First of all, I work remotely. I have no plans to move from Southern California to Burlington, NC. High Point, maybe, but not Burlington. On the chance that I am at your Burlington Athletic Stadium on game day, I can assure you I will be at a local watering hole long before the stadium lights are turned off for the night. Or maybe I will be at your desk sipping fine bourbon while you finish up.
Secondly, I do not work exclusively for the Sock Puppets either. I have other obligations like running the Inland Empire 66ers Twitter amount (for now — I won that privilege in a fantasy football bet with the GM), and I write COMEDY GOLD for the Eugene Emeralds (also for now; Allan has not been returning my texts ever since I forgot his birthday). I do not think you ever have to worry about me working for the Myrtle Beach Pelicans, although there is a brick with my name on it at their stadium.
So let’s get down to business. By now you have probably done some research and realize I was the mind behind the Fayetteville Woodpeckers’ smashing inaugural campaign in which I introduced the one of the greatest slogans of all time: “Fear the Wood! Respect the Pecker!” Upper management was not too fond of it, but a local t-shirt company in town sure was. Some of my other greatest hits were:
- Viking Funeral Night
- Yard Gnome Paintball Target Tuesdays
- The Bass Boat Regatta
- Canadian Car Bombs and Strafe Canada Night
- Touch My Squatch; Win My Heart and Mind Night
Hey, is Jack McDowell still your manager? Have you ever had a sit-down with him to explain how his free agent signing with the Indians crushed the hopes and dreams of a city? Or is something that should stay in the past? If not, we could probably come up with nifty promotion that involves spot welders from Parma.
Anyway, I have to run. I am supposed to be on the Dad Hat Chronicles’ podcast tomorrow, and I have no idea what to wear. I listened to your episode on that show. You were not as good as the Otterbots’ guy, but you have me now to rectify that.
Your friend in baseball,
Bads85
PS: Your stadium needs a corporate sponsor for cash flow. Let’s reach out to Lotrimin, which makes that wonderful product that kills the fungus responsible for athlete’s foot and jock itch.
Dead Religions 