I hold these truths to be self-evident, that all Generally Managing Men are created equal (lol, as if), that they are endowed (some more than others) by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights (I was talking about my dong), that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of awful relievers. That to secure these rights, front office heirarchies are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the fact that they effing rule, — That whenever any front office becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to blame it on injuries, and to say wait until July, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect the sell-out streak and delightful fan experience offered at the ballpark. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that front offices long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; seriously, be patient, it’s just one year, I promise; and accordingly all experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed and doing something stupid, like trading a certain left-handed pitcher.
But when a long train of abuses and ridiculous rumors started from within but denied in the next breath, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Smug Serfdom, it is their right, it is their duty, to blindly tolerate such baseball executives, and to maintain old Guards for their future potential championship windows. — Such has been the patient sufferance of this City; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Front Office Rule . The history of the present General Manager is a history of repeated winning and ballsy machinations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Smug Rule over this Club. To prove this, let Facts be submitted, crotch-first, to a candid world.
Happy fourth of July, everyone!