With the death of Fidel Castro last fall, the number of world leaders with even theoretically verifiable experience on the diamond has fallen to a new low. Despite efforts and reputation, Castro never quite achieved the heights of dictatorship as envisioned by self-impressed prevaricator “Che” Guevera, settling for middling career numbers in a pursuit fueled, per persistent rumor despite the dates not matching in the slightest, by the shortsightedness of the Baltimore Orioles, whom we delight in blaming for let’s say all of Cuba’s ills even though, again, they didn’t even exist during Castro’s youth.
So you find yourself in need of a dictator, but aren’t sure where to look? You want solid stats and a proven track record, but it’s a tricky affair: Rare is the dictator who swaps teams mid-career. Rare as well is the hot prospect, dictators often being defined in part by the longevity of their rule.
The Chicago Cubs of the National League have won the World Series, here, now, recently, in 2016 of the calendar you know; and, as such an incident clearly pursued and involved items of magic — including and featuring curses, goats, curse-breaking, enchantment and sorcery, spells and science — and perhaps some on-field action, we will surely be publishing investigative pieces in the near future. In the meantime, as there are no other events of significant concern to America or the world on the close horizon, you can go ahead and just relax for a while.
Though the frost of whorish winter still paints your nose red, yet spring is nigh, and if you’re a dedicated follower of popular engagement, that means you are ready to remain in-a-doors, shivering in dread of offending your allergies, and cracking your knuckles with delicate demonstration in preparedness for the fantasy season to come.
The following was originally posted in our Premium VIP Member forum by one of our regular contributors, but as it pertains to a Banknotes Industries product that is sold to the public – Out of the Boardroom Business Simulator – I figured it couldn’t hurt to repost it here, there being no bad publicity and we being so thoughtful.
What’s up, honchos, it’s your old buddy AlfaWolf here, ready as always with some more good advice. A lot of folks have been asking around here lately for tips on how to succeed in OOTB, so I’m going to go ahead and put together a post that covers the basics of getting started. The 2016 edition, which just hit the shelves for the general public (though us preferred people have had access since before the holiday period), is basically the same beast with a few new features, but if you for some reason haven’t kept up there will be a couple changes you’ll want to know. Let’s dive right in.
Vida Blue – This child will win both the MVP and Cy Young awards in the same year, a feat accomplished only seven other times, by men with names like Clemens, Gibson, and Verlander. However, he will never again equal 1971’s success, and his cocaine-fueled star will burn out slowly over the next fifteen years.
Blue Moon Odom – Named for its moonlike face, this child will share little of that celestial body’s serenity. It will brawl frequently with the others, mostly over who gets to start in the playoffs from 1972-1974. Unfortunately, little Blue Moon will end up on the losing end of most of those sibling-rival tiffs.
Rollie Fingers – This child will revolutionize the art of relief pitching and grow miles of stupendous mustache.
Catfish Hunter – Despite pitching a perfect game, winning a Cy Young award, and being inducted to the Hall of Fame, this child will never overcome the deliciousness of its namesake, especially when its namesake is blackened or stirred into a spicy gumbo.
Mudcat Grant – Use this one if Catfish is already taken. If someone did Mudcat, too, go for the synonyms Chucklehead or Polliwog. Note: the further you move down this list, the earlier the child will realize its whole life is built on a bad joke.
Jim Panther – After five middling years in the minors, little Jim will finally get the call-up. You will be so proud. His first four major league games, the only action he will see in 1971, will be disastrous. His next two years in Texas and Atlanta won’t go much better. After that, he will leave baseball to fulfill the true promise of his name, don a taxidermied jaguar head, and bound off into the boundless night.