The Day I Became a Major League Baseball Superstar


The American Express Card. Don’t steal home without it. ~from “Major League”

davidortiz

This year has been great to me. Not only did I sign a guaranteed contract to play what is, essentially, a kids’ game, but I’m living the good life now. No more 9-5 grind. No more endless traffic on the way to work. No more feeling obligated to, you know, actually work. I’m getting paid millions whether I work or not. Isn’t America great?

I gotta say the best part is not having to suck up to my bosses anymore. Yeah, they pay my salary, but I’m also making millions from endorsement deals, video games, and sales of my likeness. I can also stick it to the fans. It’s a privilege for them to come and see me work. I mean, they gotta have some entertainment to take their minds off their crappy jobs.

There’s also the matter of the umpires. They’re not technically my bosses, but I can take ‘em or leave ‘em. If they blow a call I gotta tell ‘em they’re wrong. They’re not the ones the fans are paying to see. If that means they get a broken jaw or spit in their face, what’s it to me?

Teammates? There may be no “I” in “team,” but there’s an “m” and an “e.” I only have use for them as long as we’re winning. If not, I don’t really care if they wind up in Toronto or Trenton or Toledo. They’re expendable. I’m the one in contention for the Triple Crown and MVP here.

I hear all these rumors about PEDs, steroids, that kind of stuff. What’s the big deal? Pretty much everybody does at least something. With 162 games in a season, I need that extra kick to help get me through. I don’t see what the big deal is with all the rapes and murders and terrible disasters in the world. I thought you guys loved the long ball. Remember how much you dug it in 1998?

Off the field? I’m just like you. I have problems. Mine are just bigger since I make a lot more money than you and have my face on lots of products. So what if I have a few anger management issues? You mean you never had eight different jobs in 11 years? Seriously? And you never said exactly what was on your mind on live TV? You need to start living, brah.

By the way, I’m sorry about that bullpen phone I broke the other night. I was just having an emotional moment. I’m all better now.

I hope you guys keep coming out to the games, by the way. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about you. I mean, without you, would I be making $3.2 million on average per year? (And that’s the average Joe, not me.) I need the support of you teachers, police officers, nurses, and military personnel. At this rate you’ll only need to work about 70 years or so to make what I get out of one year. Keep up the good work and keep America strong, all of you. It’s not as if your job is as important as mine.

I also regret to inform you I’ll be out for the rest of the season. I have a foot injury. I can’t imagine how you waitstaff and warehouse workers and cooks work through it, especially for the salary you get. And you guys don’t have access to the best doctors in the world. I don’t even think some of you have health insurance. Bummer. Hope you can still make a game or two in between your two part-time jobs.

Well, my team’s in the cellar and I have a bad foot. It’s off to my beach cottage in Hawaii to rest up. Hope you guys enjoy the pennant chase and I’ll see you at spring training!

Sincerely,

Your Favorite Overpaid Superstar

jobu

(I hope it’s readily apparent that this is a parody and is meant to be read as such!)

What do you think is wrong with sports today? How about what’s right?

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~ by Howlin' Mad Heather on July 30, 2013.

One Response to “The Day I Became a Major League Baseball Superstar”

  1. I was thinking about this the other day… the money thing- that’s probably our own fault because we buy into it.
    I do wish women’s sports would get more attention though.

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