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The Dugout a Salvation in Tough Times

Sep 30, 2008 – 3:10 PM
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B. Thompson Stroud

B. Thompson Stroud %BloggerTitle%

This is going to be our last Dugout for Fanhouse. We've enjoyed the experience tremendously, but we can't associate ourselves with these lowly bloggers for even one more minute while the true writers - nay, artists at MLB.com continue to fill our read-holes with poignant, topical editorial pieces like Mark Newman's Baseball a salvation in tough times.

I thought baseball was a game, but it turns out that it is a triumvirate of spiritual metaphor-men who have orchestrated a deep and lasting afterlife for us when we die, assuming that during our lifetime we have accepted Major League Baseball as our savior and believe it died on the Polo Grounds for our sins.

My first article there will be entitled: "Baseball Cured My Diabetes." It will largely accuse the Cleveland Indians of changing the biological makeup of my bloodstream.

The last Dugout ever is after the jump. Thanks fellas, it's been a trip!

The Dugout

**Online Host**
Welcome to the African Wasteland Chatroom!
AfricanMan: *writing* my belly swells with pain. It has been four days since my last meal. I have sent my youngest, Gwandoya, into the plains to seek food, but it has been many days now and I fear the worst.
AfricanMan: My body is weak now, long removed from its senses, and it is all I can do to huddle against this stone and write, so that my story may be told.
AfricanMan: I have fought for my life since the day I was born. A warlord's machete drew my mother's last breath before I could open my eyes.
AfricanMan: I have witnessed atrocities that no man should witness. I have seen my brothers and sisters beaten, burned, tortured. I have seen children birthed only to rot away and die on the charred soil.
AfricanMan: We pray for relief. Something. Anything. A hand to hold. We pray that when we go to sleep at night, we will awaken somewhere far away from all this, somewhere cool, somewhere soft.
AfricanMan: I would swat away the flies, but they are the only friends I have.

AfricanMan: If perchance this is the last entry in my livejournal, let it be so that my life was not lived in vain and that it had a purpose."

/closes journal

AfricanMan: /stretches out on dirt floor
**Online Host**
Gwandoya has entered the chatroom!
AfricanMan: Gwandoya, my son! You return!
Gwandoya: Yes papa! And with me I bring a great harvest!
AfricanMan: Gwandoya, you have saved us all! What did you bring, grain? Rice? Water?
Gwandoya: No pa-pa! I brought Alexei Ramirez of the Chicago White Sox!
AlexeiCon: /holds up bat, ball

AfricanMan: /embraces Gwandoya

If my tears had not run dry so many years ago I would weep with joy! Gwandoya, you have brought Major League Baseball!

Gwandoya: With expressed, written consent, pa-pa!
AfricanMan: Oh Gwandoya! Things will be better now!
AlexeiCon: now, I am going to play a little beisbol! /tosses up ball, hits grounder down center of village

AfricanMan: /eyes widen

My belly! The swelling! It is going down!

AlexeiCon: /jogs over, picks up ball
Gwandoya: Look papa, flowers grow where he walks! And the track from his grounder has filled with honey!
AfricanMan: For the first time in my life I feel alive!
**Online Host**
An evil warlord has entered the chatroom!
AfricanWarlord: WHAT IS GOING ON HERE! /points M16 at child
Gwandoya: Pa-pa!
AfricanMan: Please, do not hurt him! We will give you our flowers and honey!

AlexeiCon: Wait a moment, Chuckwuemeka.

/approaches Warlord

AfricanWarlord: /nervously points gun

GIVE ME YOUR GENERAL SENSE OF WELL-BEING OR YOU WILL DIE!

AlexeiCon: /points across village to men on first, second, and third
AfricanWarlord: WHAT? What ... what is this???
AlexeiCon: /hits grand slam
AfricanWarlord: /is overcome by existential epiphany

AfricanWarlord: /drops M16

Ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha!

/runs away with arms spread wide, a boyish jubilation in his countenance

**Online Host**
Welcome to the MLB.com Chatroom!
NewmansOwn: "... the warlord never came back to the village that baseball saved, and they all lived happily ever after."
NewmansOwn: /posts
Oppelbees: /awards Pulitzer Prize
NewmansOwn: All right, time for breakfast. But how to hyperbolize this piece of toast?

NewmansOwn: "Newman spread the strawberry jam as though he was spreading a warm blanket across the bare, chilled shoulders of a nation.

It would be the most delicious breakfast he could remember.

'I can't believe [a piece of bread] could taste this good,' said Newman. 'It is like the Rosa Parks of its loaf.'"

NewmansOwn: yes, that'll work nicely
NewmansOwn: /eats toast
Photos link to player info. (Photo Credit: Getty Images) WordUpThome.com
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