Somewhere in the dark, damp depths of a make shift pole barn set up outside of a lavish condo in the Eastern suburbs of the Twin Cities, a shadowy silver bearded individual sneaks into a corner, pulls out a cell phone and dials a number …
*Ring ring* … *Ring ring* …
“Hello? Yes, is this … Hello? Can you hear me? The rain must be interfering with my signal … you’re what? You have champagne all over your phone? Yes, I saw the celebration. How enjoyable for you … Sir, Mr. Smith … I know you’re exceptionally euphoric and busy, but if you just have a moment … I’m sorry? Oh, tell Joe I say hi … Yes, I heard Span say “We’re gonna get Denarded in here!” That was a hilarious play on words … Mr. Smith, if you can just give me a moment though … sure, sure. I can wait while you go into a shower stall … Sooo … Did I see the game? What game? Ha, no I’m kidding, of course I saw it. I thought you guys were fucked to be honest. Do you need me to pitch for you in your opening series in New York? Ha ha … Kidding again, of course. … Ok, you got a moment? Great. Let me just lay it right out there:
“Don’t you ever try to upstage me with your shitty little team again, you crusty fuck.
“Where do you get off? Seriously, this is just out-fucking-rageous. Your quaint little ball club had their moment to shine for three entire days this past weekend. You won a couple of games against the mighty Kansas City Royals and set up your fun little one game playoff, but everyone in this city … No, in this state, realizes that this is Vikings territory. Everyone wants to see football. They want to see the drama of the greatest quarterback ever take the field once more and play against his former team. That is some tangible shit right there, Mr. Smith. Its palpable nerves in the air that makes your hair stand on end! This little baseball game you play? These silly little highlight reels? Jesus, Bill! You almost shit the game away, and now you want the Twin Cities spotlight? Come on!
“Maybe you didn’t see what I did on Monday night. Maybe you didn’t notice that Monday night’s performance was perhaps one of my best ever. Do you realize what that means? It means it was one of the best performances ever by one of the games greatest quarterbacks playing in the most highly anticipated football game in the history of football games. That game ended up producing the single greatest viewing audience on cable TV for any sports game in the history of the world. THE WORLD Bill! And you think you’re little team of scrappy underdogs is really going to upstage my epic performance? Mr. Smith, you are sorely mistaken.
“You do realize your predicament now, don’t you? You’ve completed a wonderfully exciting game, but in the long run it won’t mean anything, not like my game means something to millions of people across the world! Your silly team is going to be exhausted now and crawl into New York City, a place that I played in last year, and get blasted out of town like the playoff hopes of fans were during the Jets five game stretch to end the season last year. It’ll be embarrassing, and every simple minded Midwestern baseball fan in Minnesota will be yelling for your head! You couldn’t have just let your team, and the Metrodome, pass in peace. Nooooo. You wanted one last hurrah that will end in burning wreckage! Trust me, I’ve been there! They’ll demand your soul!
“I feel no remorse for you because of this. You think you’re so damn smart, Mr. Smith. You bring in Cabrera, Pavano and get your team to the playoffs. You think that you can get this city in fervor after riding my fantastic game’s coattails. Well best of luck, sir, but you will fail. You will not take the spotlight off of me. Others have tried and others have only failed. Just ask Mr. Kahn. Ask Mr. Jesus, my own teammate. This is my town now. You’re all just witnesses.
“So enjoy your flight, Bill. Sweet dreams, Mr. Smith. Think about this as you sip your now bitter tasting champagne for the rest of the evening, you selfish prick. And let it be known that if you ever think of stealing my spotlight again I will shoot all of your piranhas like fish in a barrel. That is my promise to you.
“Oh, and tell Gomez ‘Gooba Gooba Gooba!’ He’ll know what I mean.”