I think we can all agree the MLB Fan Cave was a complete success. Families across the country huddled around the warm glow of plasma for each interview, fast camera zoom, and hilarious comedy skit that Major League Baseball’s season-long marketing gimmick was able to produce. Surely, this was a golden age for the sport, now that two men were watching every second of it and we got to watch them be forced to do so.
What wasn’t to like about lead caveman Mike O’Hara? Who doesn’t love watching good fortune come to an attention-starved Yankees fan? He had everything a baseball audience in 2011 could want–Jokes about women and marriage! Adam Sandler impressions! A backwards baseball cap! Right off the bat, we knew he was one of us. Only talented.
Sadly, it all had to come to an end, and those same families who bonded through the watching and the huddling were forced to turn to each other for entertainment, and found themselves disgusted. But now, once again, MLB is looking for a new clown to poke and prod and deprive of sleep and inject with experimental drugs.
And that fan… could be you.
But it won’t be! Because it’ll be me.
You may not understand the economy, but you know that it’s bad. I mean, it’s got to be, otherwise you’d have that high-paying job at that firm where all those guys in the Facebook albums you stalk work.
Fortunately, if you’re patient/lazy enough, there are positions available where you can do the things you already do, but for money. You just need to fulfill the simple requirements, like knowing about baseball or labeling yourself with broad, self-congratulatory adjectives.
And if anything, I’ve only gotten more “fun and creative” since last year, so obviously I will be submitting my application to be the MLB Fan Caveman with a ton of exclamation points. Not only that, but I will be enclosing certain concerns with several sections of the application.
“Please address the following questions in a two-part essay (1,000-word limit)”
An “essay?” What is this, Mrs. Watley’s fifth grade theme-writing class? I’ll tell you what I told Mrs. Watley, Major League Baseball: Also, your subtly suggestive wardrobe choices arouse and confuse me. I think I need to go speak with the guidance counselor. Also, down with homework.
“Type or Paste Resume Here”
You know who needs my resume? My parents. So they can see all that I’ve accomplished in this cold, cruel world and stop leaving me voicemails asking when I’m going to move out of the family room or at least unlock the door so they can retrieve some of their things like glasses and Mitch Albom books and pain medication.
“Pass a background check to the satisfaction of MLB”
You don’t want to know what I’m capable of and I don’t want to tell you.
Just like every trailer for a superhero movie, “you have no idea what I’m capable of.” Only instead of saving an entire city, I would be challenging a bar full of innocent Giants fans to a broken bottle-fight after the last pitch of the 2010 NLCS.
”Each winner must share thoughts regarding games and topics of MLB and pop culture interest via daily blogging, vlogging and through social media platforms”
It’s not enough you want my history, Major League Baseball? Now you want my thoughts?! The last person to ask for my thoughts was a grade school teacher who soon found her clipboard had burst into flames. I’m not saying I definitely have mind powers, but it’s something to consider before being so intrusive.
“Please fill out this contest form in its entirety.”
I’ll tell you what I told that pitching robot who messed up the ceremonial first pitch at CitizensBankPark: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
So basically, anybody with any sort of intentions of filling this thing out should know that it’s basically impossible, so don’t even try. Did you read some of these questions? Ridiculous. Better to just leave it alone and allow people with the time and a big family room all to themselves to fill it out in peace.