Comrades! Citizens! Brothers and sisters! Men and women of the Badger State! I am addressing you, my friends!
In spite of the heroic resistance of our beloved Brewers, the St. Louis Cardinals won the division last year. It is no consolation to note that they went on to win the World Series, thereby negating the futile cries of weak-willed pundits who maintained that our division was the weakest in baseball.
A grave danger hangs over our team.
How could it have happened that we surrendered the division to the forces of LaRussa, and that many are picking the Chicago Cubs over us? Is it really true that Alfonso Soriano and Carlos Zambrano are invincible, as is ceaselessly trumpeted by the boastful fascist propagandists? Of course not!
History shows that there are no invincible teams and never have been. The New York Yankees were considered invincible but have won but one World Series in the last seven years. The Boston Red Sox in the aftermath of their curse-breaking triumph were also considered invincible, but were easily smashed in 2005.
The same must be said of LaRussa’s Cardinals today. This team has not yet met a full-strength Brewers contingent. Sheets, Weeks, Hardy, and Koskie were all felled by injury at crucial moments of last year. These players are all back this year. With these warriors on the diamond, St. Louis and Chicago too can be smashed and will be smashed as were the teams of New York and Boston.
It may be asked how our small-market team can compete with the checkbooks of the behemoths of our league. The answer lies in our hearts, our big beating cheese-loving hearts. Our whole valiant Buckethead Brigade, the rest of our whole valiant crowd, all our face-painted adolescents, all our overripe and bra-less dairy princesses, all the finest middle-aged men and women of Wisconsin, finally all our bloggers and certain traditionalist scribes–condemn the perfidy of the Tribune Company and George Steinbrenner, and sympathize with Mark Attanazio. They see that ours is a just cause, that the enemy will be defeated, that we are bound to win.
Overcoming innumerable difficulties, the Brewers are self-sacrificingly disputing every inch of Cardinal and Cub “dominance.” Jenkins is coming into action, blasting the ball all over Arizona. The catching squad, now featuring high-average Estrada as well as local hero Miller (the pride of West Salem!), is displaying unexampled valor. Our relief squad, anchored by Cordero — obtained in exchange for the filthy traitor Carlos Lee — stands tall and strong. Our resistance to the enemy is growing in strength and power.
What is required to put an end to the danger hovering over our team, and what measures must be taken to smash the enemy? Let us begin with the idea that sacrifice is needed from our young Brewers. Hart must seize the job in right and hold on with both hands. Nix must come out swinging instead of sucking. Braun must make sure that Graffanino and Counsell — both fine men and noble souls — are nevertheless ignominiously kicked into the dustbin of history. Yovani Gallardo, a team awaits its destiny — are you man enough to seize it?
Above all, it is essential that our formerly-injured players should understand the full immensity of the danger that threatens the Brewers. They should abandon all complacency, all heedlessness, all those moods of peaceful “it’s-just-a-game-ism” which was so natural last year at this time. Today, when last year has fundamentally changed everything, that thinking is fatal.
The enemy is cruel and implacable. He is out to seize our bases, watered with our sweat; to smash home runs and doubles over our fences. He is out to restore the rule of oligarchs, to destroy the Upper Midwest and continued baseball existence in Wisconsin. He wants to implode Miller Park and watch the vultures pick our bones clean. He wants Jenkins and Mench to bitch about playing time, and for Turnbow to melt down, and for Capuano to go back to being Capuano.
Ned Yost must realize this and abandon all heedlessness. He must mobilize himself and stop thinking about failure, about small-ball, about bunting and stealing bases. Does he not know that there can be no mercy to the enemy? Plus, we suck so bad at those things.
Robin Yount, the great mustachioed anchor of our World Series team 25 years ago, used to say that the chief virtue of the Brewer must be courage, valor, fearlessness in struggle, readiness to fight, together with the people, against the enemies of our team. Of course, that was in the American League…but it is certainly true. But we have a secret weapon which is about to bloom forth in splendor.
We, the Milwaukee Brewers, are the blackest team in all of Major League Baseball.
Will you deny it? After all, African American representation in the great game is falling precipitously. Yet we start three black players…at the same time! Bill Hall, Rickie Weeks, and Prince Fielder are well-beloved by the overwhelmingly white community of our fans, and form the nucleus of hope for our franchise. Can any other team boast the same, in this era of Latin dominance and a rising Asia? And yet, we are also relying on several Latin players as well! (We got rid of Tomo Ohka in the off-season, but it was not because he was Japanese. It was because he was only serviceable. This is no longer good enough!)
The Brewers stand strong against the marginalization of the black man in baseball. We are the rainbow, the glorious rainbow of united humanity! All forces of the people — for the demolition of the enemy!
Forward, to our victory!
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