If There Are Aliens, Make Sure They Don’t Get Home Field Advantage

Aliens

I was watching golf on the wall the other day and it reminded me of the time in 1953 when Stumpy Bill Hassenpfeffer of Kansas City came across some aliens having a belching contest in a cornfield. They gave him birch beer and tried to convince him they were encyclopedia salesmen, only he remembered the whole story under hypnosis a year later. He sold the story to author Maeve Binchy, who produced the best-selling novel “Maeve Binchy’s Guide to Golf-Related Tort Reform” and launched her successful side career as a salsa dancer.

If Martians are really out there, you have to expect that they want in on all our sports leagues so they can show off how advanced they are. Freeloaders. If they think they can show up and expect to pitch first, no way. That’s cheating. And if they’re doing that, who knows what else they’re doing. Are they manipulating the draft picks? Did they threaten to move the team if the local government didn’t give them a tax rebate? Did they threaten to probe Yogi Berra if he didn’t throw out the first ball at their game? And the worst part is, you can’t bring any of this up to the league office, because they have scouts on Mars to sign away their players.

The good news is, they’re not really advanced, they’ve just been watching our teams for years and years. So if they don’t get home field advantage that buys our side a little more time. Also, they should pinch hit with “Slim” Garrison, who always wore a prime number on his jersey because “that would throw the aliens off their game.” He’s only 79 so there’s still time.

Now let’s talk about so-called “fantasy” sports for a second. They’re just like the real ones! If they made pickles that were just like regular pickles, you wouldn’t call them “fantasy pickles,” cause that would be stupid. A good fantasy sport would be playing baseball against aliens. Or celebrity underwater table tennis. I once watched William Faulkner’s second cousin play underwater table tennis against Aunt Jemima’s neighbor. I won fifty bucks when Faulkner’s cousin swallowed the ball by mistake and ended up in the hospital.

Here’s one that wouldn’t work: an alien air show. That wouldn’t work since they keep crashing and the organizers would need a lot of insurance for the spectators. If you’re so damn advanced, learn to land your spaceships instead of coming here and trying to take over all our sports. We don’t fly to your planet and screw everything up.

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