Baseball’s owners have finally stooped to considering whether or not they’ll return to the negotiating table to discuss with the player’s union if America will have its national pastime back this year. Here are our proposed line items to add to the bargaining process to ensure that the return of baseball is a success:
- Automatically declare Tim Anderson and Javy Baez the AL and NL MVPs of our hearts, respectively.
- Finally put the Seattle Mariners out of their misery.
- 200% more steroids.
- Give me a firm commitment that I will be able to download an app version of Backyard Baseball to my phone by no later than mid-July.
- No concrete policy idea here, but can we make this sport a little more fucking exciting?
- All players must choose among The Outfield’s “Your Love,” Megan Thee Stallion’s “Savage,” or Taio Cruz’s “Dynamite” for their walk-up song. There are no other options.
- LoR would be willing to accept a proviso outlining that a player may choose either Megan Thee Stallion’s initial version of “Savage” or Megan Thee Stallion feat. Beyonce “Savage (remix).”
- Mandatory racial sensitivity training for all St. Louis Cardinals baseball fans before they’re allowed to tweet. Actually, better expand this to all baseball fans.
- Change the Hall of Fame induction rules to make Charlie Blackmon’s beard immediately eligible.
- Two Pirates–Reds games per year replaced with a three-hour, no-holds-barred, dugout-on-dugout bench-clearing brawl.
- Atlanta Braves aren’t allowed to use the name “Atlanta” until they move back within the city limits.
- I get to hit Bud Selig.
- Send all Cubs fans a $10.50 cup of warm Bud Light and an audio recording of Karen from Naperville loudly insisting that “all lives matter” to simulate the gameday experience at Wrigley Field.
- Force Joe Buck to run blindfolded in front of the pitcher’s mound every half inning.
- Any team with a baby-blue throwback uniform required to wear it until there’s a new CBA (yes that’s over half the league) (and yes that last one was a stretch).
- Defund Tom Ricketts.
Left on Read 