I was walking around the perimeter of the little league field scouting for future big leaguers I could take in my farm system drafts when I tripped over some junk behind the center field fence. Russell Field was very deep in center field (for a little league park) thus very few people wandered this way. I pulled myself back onto my feet, holding the fence for support. I kicked the pile of junk and saw what appeared to be an old kerosene lamp. I picked it up and rubbed the face of it with my sleeve -- more in the interest of keeping the gunk off my hands than actually cleaning it. It suddenly became very hot and I dropped it. It began to smoke. I started to walk away quickly but then the smoke began to take the shape of a man who looked an awful lot like Albert Pujols if you discounted the fact that he had wisps of smoke rather than legs.
I stood in stunned silence starring at what I was certain was an hallucination of some kind. It reminded me of the time I thought I saw a giant space craft floating over Malden Square. I don't do drugs and I was not drinking this time. The smokey man was adjusting his sweater vest which looked very tacky over his otherwise bare torso. He said something to me but it did not register. He repeated it but much louder.
"Thank you for freeing me," he said. "I've been trapped in that thing since the seventies."
I really wasn't sure I wanted to enter into conversation with my delusions so I just nodded. He seemed slightly annoyed with me as if waiting for me to do something. I tried just turning and walking away, I had settled on the idea that I was dehydrated and should pick up a bottle of water as soon as possible. But the smokey Pujols appeared directly in front of me as if he had been there all along.
"Apparently you do not know how this works. I am a Baseball Genie. I can influence events and give you knowledge of baseball beyond all men. As the person who has freed me from my captivity I will allow you five wishes."
"Five," I asked. "I thought genies customarily only allowed three wishes."
"Are you complaining or would you rather not have any wishes at all?"
"Uh, okay sorry about that. Can you give me enough money to buy the New York Yankees and still have billions to spare?"
"Are you not listening? I am a Baseball Genie. I do not have the power to grant wishes that are unrelated to baseball. So I cannot give you money or make any part of you bigger or smaller. I cannot make girls fall in love with you or make being fat cool."
"Fine. You don't have to get all testy about it. You being a lame genie is not my fault."
"I walk perfectly fine when I choose not to float. I am growing tired of this. What are your five wishes?"
WISH ONEI wish to have a perfect understanding of baseball. I want to be able to look at stats or see a player on the field and instantly know exactly what his potential is. I want this understanding to also include what general managers are thinking when they make personnel changes. Eventually word of my outstanding understanding will reach general managers and owners everywhere. But I would turn down offers from every team except the most pathetic franchises. The worse the team the more likely I would be to help. Just think what that would do for my blog!
WISH TWO
I wish steroids has never existed. I wish every achievement in baseball history was completely untainted by anything having to do with performance enhancing drugs. I am assuming that this would result in Barry Bonds being perceived as a Hall-of-Fame bastard, rather than a bastard who will never be in the Hall-of-Fame. Mark McGuire, Sammy Sosa, Roger Clemens, Rafael Palmeiro, and Jose Canseco could all be fun again.
WISH THREE I wish MLB Opening Day was a National Holiday. We have so many stupid holidays for so and so's birthday and to honor this group and that group. Just think how many people could avoid lying to their bosses or using up vacation days. We could have parades in the morning (parades in April have to be better than parades in January, right?) and barbecue traditions after the game. Since everyone had the day off all the games could be day games.
I wish everyone played fantasy baseball the way everyone listens to music. I know not everyone listens to music but the people who never listen to any music at all are few and far between. I want fantasy baseball to be integrated into normal life that way. Think about it, kids would want to learn advanced math to improve their ability to understand baseball through statistical analysis. Men and Women of all ages would have another common point of interest. Parents could tell their children stories of the days when every league was either American League or National League and they never mixed and their children could be annoyed about it.
WISH FIVEI wish that every kid would play baseball. I want baseball to be everyone's favorite sport. I never want to pass a baseball field again that isn't either covered with snow or kids playing ball. I want little league to be like the cub scouts used to be before too many scary things happened. I want being on a little league team to teach kids the values that so many do not seem to be learning. I want kids to learn to work together and to support each other. I want baseball to work through children to eliminate prejudice. I want baseball to be too important to be tainted by petty differences.
"Damn you sound like a beauty pagaent contestant," the genie laughed. "But I like it."
He winked and made some odd gestures with his hands. There was a distant rumble and he blinked out of site. I can only hope my wishes come true.
Now, Back to the other kind of fantasy baseball...
He has been a potential closer for longer than is recommended. He has shown better stuff than results...until this season that is. With the Seattle Mariner closer Brandon Morrow, on the disabled list with right biceps tendinitis (a minor but annoying problem for a pitcher who is called on multiple times a week) David Aardsma is the favorite to see save opportunities.
