EXPLOSIONS in the world of baseball today as Hall of Fame pitcher Rube Cranberry released his highly anticipated tell-all biography and everyone is losing their shit.
Joe Torre died from dehydration due to mouth frothing, Ken Griffey Jr. bought a rocket ship and moved to space, and Sammy Sosa turned into a statue.
Babe Ruth’s ghost was seen weeping, Pedro Martinez did magic and became a bird, and Tommy Lasorda sealed himself in his pyramid.
The MLB playoffs have been cancelled, the Louisville Slugger factory self-destructed, and Cooperstown has declared martial law.
Pandemonium reigns and nothing will ever be the same ever ever again.
“Baseball as an institution tends to overreact,” said Cranberry, in the postgame scrum after his book reading, “they tend to lash out at anyone who speaks the truth about the dark side of the game. Happened to Conseco, now me.”
Major League Baseball’s lawyers tried desperately for months to prevent the book from being released but a loophole in the Patriot Act allowed for the highly contentious manuscript to make it through the legal red tape. Now, for the first time in the history of the game, people are getting a real idea of what goes on in those places that are all dug out… whatever they are called. (Nate find out what those digged out places are called before publishing)
Cranberry’s book outlines an almost systematic system of whoremongering, gambling, saying swears, smoking and inhaling, nose drugs, and staying up late that seems to be prevalent in both the major and minor leagues. He accuses certain owners of only buying theirs teams to seem cool and make money and implicates several dozen pitchers of belly itchin’.
But it’s Cranberry’s personal admissions that seem to be drawing the most criticism, more specifically, his motivation to play the game professionally for 23 years. That seems to have struck a nerve, especially with the purists.
“I did it for the gum,” said Cranberry, “it was always about the gum.”
Cranberry is referring to the free chewing gum and sunflower seeds provided to players and managers on the house.
“I studied economics in college and this is just a simple cost-benefit analysis here,” said Cranberry, “before I started playing baseball I was spending upwards of $250,000 a year on gum and seeds. I realized pretty quick that I either needed to get a job that paid more than that or one that gave me free gum. I ended up with both.”
“It’s a black spot on the game,” said Barry Bonds, outside the testicle re-inflation clinic, “it chips away at the integrity of the sport.”
“You’re supposed to play the game for glory,” said Ricky Henderson, “for adulation, for blowjobs… but gum? That’s wrong.”
The second half of Cranberry’s book is actually an incredibly well written and researched investigative report on the human slavery rings that fund most Major League teams but people are fixating mostly on the gum.