Look, I’m all for doing what we can to boost global harmony. Someone in Malaysia lost their house? I’ll grab the toolkit and the next jet over. People going hungry in Honduras? I’m on that shit, with a sack of Subway double meat turkey subs in tow. But as for this World Baseball Classic? I say f#$k it. Pull the plug, keep the boys home, and leave it to the Pittsburgh Pirates and Cleveland Indians to maintain global relations.
Seeing Papi return from WBC action with his luggage on one shoulder and an oversized ice pack on the other was one thing. But now hearing that The Elf Himself–our MVP, our fireplug and the veritable straw that stirs the drink on this Boston Red Sox team–might have strained an oblique wile reppin’ the USA, I’m thinking our contributions to this event going forward should be limited to 2,000 cases of Fenway Franks and a cardboard cutout of Jerry Remy.
I know that participating in the WBC is the “right thing to do.” It’s PC. It’s simply not kosher to be the guy who says, “We, as an organization, are more indebted to our team’s fanbase than the couple hundred folks in Guatemala who might tune in for an inning or two.” But I want Theo to be that guy.
Of course, I feel the same way about the All-Star Game and Christmas, so who am I to say.
