Long ago, Goliath walked out toward David and yelled, "Come over here, and I'll give your flesh to the birds and wild animals." A fight began, and David reached into his shepherd's bag and took out a stone. He hurled it from his sling and it hit the Goliath in the forehead, making Goliath fall to the ground.
But Goliath got up with just a bruise, took his sword, killed David, and fed his flesh to the birds and wild animals.
Sound familiar? No? Then you must not be a baseball fan.
Every time the baseball playoffs start, fans are subjected to the same story line — Goliath makes it to playoffs, Goliath romps through David's little brother, romps through David's baby sister, and gets to the World Series to play David. And more times than not, David gets fed to the lions by the hand of Goliath.
Oh, how wrong that is.
Yankees. Angels. Mets. Red Sox. Dodgers. Cubs. Goliath. The Roman Empire. The British Navy. The Soviet hockey team. The house in Las Vegas. The Harlem Globetrotters.
It just all rolled off the tongue like 1, 2, 3. People either love or hate those who always win. When the Globetrotters win, we love it. When the house wins while we're in Vegas, we hate it. But small market baseball fans are different. When the big market teams muscle the other teams out of the playoffs, we just sit back and take it.
"There's always next season," we say. But, damn it, we small market fans can't sit back and take it anymore.
Next season, the Yankees will sign our best player. Next season, the Red Sox will trade a planet for a middle reliever. And next season, the Cubs' brilliant public relations office will dub their playoff loss another "curse" and sell their pathetic fans the pseudo-romantic story of the "underdog." But, dearest Cubs fans, it's not a curse. And you are not the underdog when you spend $100 million on a baseball team and still fail to win — this year, it will be 99 years. It's simply pathetic.
It's sad to watch small market teams throwing rocks at Goliath and hoping one of them knocks him over. It's disheartening to watch David having to settle for putting a chink in Goliath's armor. And it's pathetic that we just sit back and take it.
I am angry. And I'm done "taking it."
I propose a boycott — screw Major League Baseball. In the past, I urged people to watch the games even though we knew the playing field wasn't level. I hoped one day, MLB would get a salary cap in place and the universe would be peaceful again. But it hasn't happened yet. So I am not watching a single game of this year's playoffs.
I love baseball. I want to see the Indians and Diamondbacks meet in the World Series. But that would only lead baseball fans to believe a salary cap isn't necessary.
So, dear baseball, it's not you, it's Major League Baseball. For now, I shall leave you. But one day, let's reunite in a better place.
Yours truly.
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