Did you hear me, brother? I said wooooooo!
If y’all live near a little place I like to call D-A-L-L-A-S, you know Mark Cuban. You know I’m fun. You know you’d take me home to grannie ‘n’ grandpa. You know I AM the NBA. Woo! Yeah.
Apparently the old fogies in Major League Baseball don’t know me. They don’t know about my COIN. They don’t know how much I know about the Cubbies, baby. They don’t want me to touch their precious lil’ baseball team. Hey, Chicago! Hey, baseball! The Cubs haven’t won a World Series in a CENTURY! I think you need a hell of a lot Mark Cuban in your life.
My loyal readers know who I am. They know how I roll. They know what I do for my players, for my city, for my company. They know I have FUN…yeah! Woo! But baseball doesn’t know nearly enough about their boy Mark Cuban. What do you say we fill them in on what they’re missing if they don’t let Mark Cuban buy one of their ballclubs?
OK, so you got your boy Carlos Zambrano, your boy Aramis Ramirez, right? And Chicago loves ’em, right? Well, don’t you want to keep the H-A-P-P-Y? How about an X-Box 360 in the dugout? Think that would help them play baseball a little better? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Friggin ill, baby. I provide that. I’m like a daddy. I’m like the daddy y’all never had, the daddy who buys you every toy, the daddy who makes every day Christmas Day. Hey Cubbies, I’ll be daddy to your players. I’ll be daddy to your fans. How about PSP giveaway day? Forget bobbleheads, unless it’s a Bud Selig bobblehead, woo! That ugly mug would look good on a bobblehead.
You want Mariah Carey singing a national anthem at your games, Cubbies? You want her throwing the first pitch too, in a friggin’ bikini top? Yeah? OK, so y’all want Mark Cuban to own your ball team. And I wouldn’t stop there. How about rainbow ivy on the walls? How about escalators? How about a personal jet for every player? How about a Hummer for the first thousand fans at every home game? How about M-16 rifles for team security guards? How about saunas inside every player’s locker? How about massagers built into each player’s cleats? How about training a live bear to be the team mascot?
WOOO! Say it with me now, WOOOO! If y’all say it loud enough, Bud Selig’ll hear you. Yeah baby.
I’m Mark Cuban, and I want a ball club. Give daddy his team now baby, woo!
* Bullshit. Not Mark Cuban.