I’m Charged Up

The day is Tuesday, the second of August to be exact. It’s really, really warm and yours truly is sweating. I am on the train back home from my place of corporate labour. It’s around 6pm (German time). I am tired, groggy, grumpy from a pretty slow day at work but suddenly I feel energised. It’s Major League Baseball’s trade deadline day and my Twitter timeline is starting to heat up. I started the day by ominously tweeting “SOTOO” and it seems like its actually about to happen. Juan Soto, 23 years old, generational talent, the new Ted Williams is about to be traded, likely to one of my favourite teams: the San Diego Padres. They are going to have to give up everything to get him, all of their prospects. Do I think this is good? Do I support this trade? Am I happy or worried? What are my emotioooons?

My mom calls me. She asks if I can bring home some McDonalds (My mom wanted me to clarify that this is indeed a rare occurrence. She almost never eats fast food and is a vegetarian). Her order: Vegan TS and some fries. I begrudgingly say yes. I am clearly emotionally vulnerable right now, very occupied and generally speaking not a good son. Announcement in the train: Final Stop. Frankfurt Central station. Get the fuck out.

I gather my stuff. I am still really sweaty. Mind you, I am wearing office clothes. The boi has too many layers on. I stumble out of the train and head to the McDonalds in the train station. I look down on my phone: the Washington Nationals (Soto’s team) are calling up prospects, a sign that a trade might be imminent. Jeff Passan again tweets that the Padres are the favourites to land Soto. The line in McDonalds is way too long. Apparently a lot of people like eating fatty, greasy food when its boiling outside? I don’t understand the world anymore.

I follow up my first Soto tweet with an even more empathic “SOTOOOOOOO” statement to my timeline. Its my time to order at the robot machine, McDonalds refuses to employ real people any longer. My order number is 239 (My mind is extraordinary. Remembering details. Sheesh). They are only at number 225 so I will have to wait for a while. I stare at my phone. My juices are flowing. Then finally all the tension is released and replaced by new tension.

Soto has been traded. No, wait they are finalising the trade. What does that mean? The details are as expected: The Padres get Soto, and the Nationals get everything. San Diego essentially just leveraged its entire future by giving up every single one of their young stars. The most consequential deadline day trade in MLB history just happened. I am waiting for a Vegan TS and I am hyped. After a 9-hour workday I feel giddy. Love you sports.

I decide to do a stream of conscious tweet storm a la James Joyce, just without the symbolism. I realise that no one in my twitter bubble has even heard of Juan Soto. I get no interaction. I am tweeting into an empty abyss of apathy from my friends. I don’t care though.

My train arrives and I sit down. I can look at my phone again. New development are flowing in by the minute and the next one makes me laugh. The historic trade hinges on Eric Hosmer’s approval. He is part of the proposed deal but has a no-trade clause to Washington in his contract, that he has to agree to waive. Eric Hosmer, the overpaid, mediocre first baseman that the Padres have been trying to get rid off for two years now holds the faith of the entire organisation in his hands. Man, sports, where else do you get these kinds of shenanigans. I’m sitting in the train, and I am delighted.

Hosmer says no, of course. Why the hell would he want to move from sunny San Diego to a terrible team in cold Washington. Is this really happening? I get to my station, McDonalds in hand and I walk home. Finally, I have reached the promised land. I fulfil my son responsibilities and hand off the food.

I locate the most important thing in my life in that moment: my bed. The second most important thing to me right now is controlled by Eric Hosmer. I open my phone and its finally over. Soto has been traded. The baseball landscape has been changed for at least a decade. There is a new “biggest deadline trade in baseball history”. The Padres sent someone else to Washington and shipped off Hosmer to Boston. Craziness.

I lie in bed after a long day and simply tweet:

“I love sports lol”

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benito

benito

Giving my brain juices on sports, culture and politics all mixed together.