Letter to the Meatballers

First of all, I'd like to say thank you for the opportunity to play for your organization. I heard you guys almost won once in the 80s, and I'd like to be a part of a 2012 game that we almost win.

Secondly, I think we should all take some time to say goodbye to Greg, who wouldn't have wanted to go any other way, according to his autobiography I Wouldn't Want To Go Any Other Way (Get Me Inside A Hippo's Mouth).

Couple things I'd like to get out of the way:

1. I've rejected general manager/manager/potato advocate Mark Russo's contract offer of 4-years, $.08, and instead accepted a pile of gravel/month. I hope there isn't any jealously in the dugout because of my contract status. I'm just here to help the team begin ballgames.
2. Keep that Christensen youngster away from me. We don't see ear-to-ear because of a violent incident in '08, and I'd like to have a separate dressing room in the clubhouse just so there aren't any problems. Plus, he soiled his dungarees in 2004 and it single-handedly cost Canada the bronze medal. I, and the people of the province of British Columbia have, and never will, forgive him for that.
3. The game-ending triple play that manager Ruso "referred to" in his "press release" sent my "life" "spiraling" out of control. Just two months after the game, I married a piece of living room furniture, Ben Kong, but we bitterly divorced later in the year after an argument over a carpet sample. My other marriages/divorces were all fabricated to further my juggling career. I don't wish to speak any more on the issue.
4. I would like to patrol left field for your squadron, though I am able to pitch if needed. In my living room the other night, I tossed nine scoreless innings, using a variety of pitches, including my famous Arm Pit pitch.
5. Final thoughts on the roster:

* J. Scott - Has "morning odor"
* Louise Russo - After unimpressive career on the field, has officially been named pre-game watermelon tosser. I think she's finally where she belongs in the organization: behind the scenes and hidden from the sun.
* What's-his-name - Opinion coming, Winter, 2012

Finally, I'd like you all to welcome my personal assistant, Henrick, a canary who lives in my hair.


thank you again, and I look forward to our season opener, and then making up and excuse and missing our second game.

- O. Rainbow