Sport Shorts

A Baseball Carol

T'was a cold, grey Christmas Eve, in a year unknown, when all the world was preparing for the joyous day about to dawn. All except, that is, one Ebeneezer Selig, who sat in his dimly lit, damp, cold high-rise office, plotting the demise of another helpless baseball franchise, that he might yet again bewail his poverty, while lining his pockets with the livelihood of the common man.

As he sat there scheming, a dreadful apparition appeared to him. The spirit was gaunt and pale, its eyes sunken and body stooped.

"Who are you?" the trembling Selig asked.

"Ask me who I was," the spirit replied.

"Who were you then?"

"In life, I was your childhood hero, Ty Slobb."

"What do you want with me?" the frightened man requested.

"Much," Slobb replied. "I am here to warn you of the fate which awaits you, and to help you prepare for it."

"But, why are you bound in those horrible chains?" Selig inquired.

"Because I was a p***k as a player, and a bigger p***k as a man. You, Ebeneezer Selig, have been even worse as an owner, and the mother of all p***ks as a commissioner."

"Oh, Ty," Selig begged, "have you no words of comfort for me?"

"None," the spirit snapped.

"Can't you send three spirits to haunt me, to help me work out my reclamation?"

"How?" Slobb countered. "The spirit of Baseball past has been turning over in his grave so fast and so often that he's too dizzy to stand up. The spirit of Baseball present is still buried under the last stadium you tore down. And the spirit of Baseball future says that with you help, there isn't going to be any baseball for him to be the spirit of!"

"But," Ebeneezer Selig insisted, "it is only because I am a good man of business. . ."

"Business?" Ty Slobb shouted. "Business? Bleacher seats were your business! Knothole gangs were your business! Doubleheaders were your business! Tickets that children could buy were your business! Oh, Ebeneezer, what great evil is this that thou hast wrought in the name of Business?!?"

Selig swallowed, sitting back down into his chair. In a small, terrified voice he asked, "You said you were here to help me."

"I am," the ghost acknowledged.

"Then, what are you going to help me with?"

"Do you see these chains that I bear?"

"I do," Selig nodded.

"Your chains are ten times as long and as heavy. As part of your penance, they will be permanently stapled to your genitals!"

Selig gulped again. "I thought you said you were here to help me."

"I am," Ty Slobb smiled. "I'm here to help you choose your treadmill!"



See, some stories do have a happy ending!

This message was edited by Keiichi on Dec 27 2001.