Congratulations, Juan Soto. Farewell Major League Baseball, It Was Nice Knowing You
Some things just aren’t worth it
Baseball has lost its collective mind.
It has ceased being America’s favorite pastime.
It has allowed billionaire owners to co-opt the game and turn it into a business.
It has installed mediocre players in the league (with a few exceptions) and has bought into the narrative that today’s game and players are better than anything in the last 100 years.
It has glommed onto Sabermetrics like the f**king Rosetta Stone and used it to unlock the “true value” of today’s players compared to those fat overweight guys from 1920 onward.
It has allowed the velocity of pitches to determine what a good young pitcher looks like, opening the door to teenagers getting Tommy John surgery as a routine action before their 18th birthday.
It has turned a once great sport into a boring three-hour game of 3D chess, where pitchers throw 42 pitches, leave in the third inning, and get lauded for having a quality start.
Where players sport eight-inch beards, have hair locked into man-buns or flowing down past their shoulders, swing like the Mighty Casey at every at-bat, and are applauded for 228…
