I just googled myself and saw this story about how I might own the Cubs! Wow!
Nobody told me about this, but it’s hella exciting. I guess my agent, Scott Boras, is finishing the deal. I don’t really know the details. Scott takes care of me pretty well, and he gets angry when I ask about specific things. Last time I had a salary negotiation, for example, I planned to sit in on the talks. After about a day, he screamed at me for demanding a few things I didn’t totally need, like a coin fountain. The next morning, though, we made up. He bought me a plane ticket to Phoenix (roller blade paradise!) and a week’s stay at the Royal Palms Hotel and Spa.
I’ve been trying to call him for a whole day, but his secretary Amelia (a rotten-hearted female who I will never ask out again) says he’s busy.
Now I just keep daydreaming about what I’ll do when I own the Cubs. The first thing, probably, is that I’ll move them to Miami. It’s a much better town without all the wind and cold weather. Second, I’d make all the seats in the stadium bean bags. Imagine that! Businessmen in bean bags! What an experience!
Third, I’d hire Melky Cabrera and make him pitch on the regular rotation. It would humiliate him and teach him an important lesson about being a bastard. Yesterday, after the post-game showers, he put a live frog in my locker. It was absolutely terrifying. I tripped over a bench as I was backing way, and everyone laughed. (My towel came off and I think some of them saw my penis)
In order to prove that I was still top dog, I had to do a pretty sad thing. I rose up, steeled my nerve, grabbed the frog, and hurled it hard against the wall. Derek Jeter was like “what the fuck, man?” and everyone else sort of stopped laughing and turned away shaking their heads.
They may not have liked what I did, but you know what? They respect me.
I’d also train the Cubs players to do incredible dances between innings.