I Should Be Commissioner Of All Sports

Commissioner Gordon - The only commissioner I recognize.

I read an article over the weekend about how the ratings for the World Series this year are low, and I thought to myself, “Well of course they’re low. It’s baseball in October.” I mean, I like baseball, but it’s essentially a reason to drink beer outdoors. Once the warm weather passes, sitting in the stands shirtless and drunk isn’t quite as much fun anymore, so savvy sports drunkards lose interest in baseball and begin attending NBA games sans pants. Or so I imagine. I’m still recovering from an entire summer of drinking beer in the sun, and sometimes my thinking sports grab finest petticoat.

What baseball needs is a minor adjustment. And by “minor adjustment” I mean, of course, a major, radical change to the game to satisfy the whim of some asshole with a blog in Phoenix. In short, baseball should amend its rules thusly:

Rule 1.18 – The night before a game, Major League Baseball officials shall place one (1) large land mine with sufficient explosive power to rip the legs off of a rhino (and yes, we will test this out at the zoo when no one is paying attention), in an unknown location under the surface of the field.

Not only will this rule change increase attendance and TV ratings (tell me with a straight face that you wouldn’t tune in), but it will sure as hell stop those drunken assholes who run out on the field, holding up the game for no other reason than that they have the alcohol tolerance of a goddamn 14 year old.

Now, some people will tell you that this would result in maimed or killed athletes, to which I say: Where the fuck have you been? Have you ever watched boxing? Those guys beat each other until their brains leak out of their noses, and no one gives a fuck. I mean, these people die, or worse yet, get elected to Congress, and all anyone talks about is who is the best at punching a grown man in the head until he stops breathing.

“Mike Tyson? Oh, holy shit! He gave 14 guys brain damage! What an athlete!”

Oh, how I admire him!

Oh, how I admire him!

So spare me the wounded/dying athlete argument. If permanently maiming employees is ok for the NFL, it sure as shit should be ok for the rest of the sporting world. And I, personally, cannot think of a single sport which could not be improved upon with the use of land mines. Watch this video and tell me that it wouldn’t be a million times more tolerable with the threat of sudden, leg-shearing explosions thrown into the mix.

Looking at that clip, I’m struck by another idea: Fans should be able to voice their displeasure in ways that actually mean something. As it is now, all you can do to tell an athlete that you hate him with the burning passion of a million exploding suns is to boo him, or perhaps vocally question his mother’s sexual predilections vis-à-vis farm animals. We can do better than this. We should enable fan feedback, not relegate it to the shithole known as day time sports talk radio. This is why I think all professional sports organizations should offer promotions such as Free Lawn Dart Night.

Another sucky thing about sports is the whole labor negotiation drama that surrounds beloved sports, and even the NHL. Every so many years, billionaire owners complain that they’re paying too much money to millionaire players, and the end result is a strike. This only hurts the fans, specifically me because now I have no place to drink beer in the afternoon. If I were commissioner, I would be much more accommodating to demands on either side of the aisle in the spirit of getting a deal done.

Case in point: During the last NBA lockout, one of the demands the players had was that they didn’t want to be tested for marijuana use. Hearing this demand, I, as commissioner, would not only eliminate drug testing, I would make marijuana consumption compulsory before every game. And if a team executed a triple alley-oop with a back flip, that team would get chips. This would instantly transform the NBA from a bunch of tall assholes into the most entertaining sport in the known universe, at least until I addressed hockey.

With the first pick in the NBA draft, the Charlotte Bobcats select Willie Nelson.

With the first pick in the NBA draft, the Charlotte Bobcats select Willie Nelson.

I don’t know what it is about hockey that doesn’t work for most Americans. At first glance, it has it all: Speed, big guys hitting each other with sticks, and fistfights. After adding a land mine to the action, I think we should equip the end of each player’s hockey stick with a taser. Each team gets to use a taser three times per game with absolutely no restrictions. So if everyone wants to gang-tase Sidney Crosby in the balls before the puck drops, so be it. But then, once that team was out of taser shots, Crosby could climb into the stands and go after one of the opposing players’ mother. As long as there was still time on the clock, that would be ok. And hilarious.

Also, when you get sent to the penalty box, they should drop a wolverine on PCP in there with you. Now that’s a major penalty.

But we shouldn’t stop at enhancing professional sports. I’ve already called for women’s gymnastics to be spruced up with the addition of snipers, so let’s not leave out amateur athletics. The Olympics would be amazing with a few simple innovations.

You could combine skeet shooting with the 90 meter ski jump, for instance. To make figure skating more tolerable, we could ban it entirely. Or, failing that, we could force all figure skaters to share the rink with a homicidal maniac on skates wielding a chain saw.

Figure Skating Announcer #1: This is the part of the program where she’s been having difficulty in practice.

Figure Skating Announcer #2: Oh, she was just off on that triple lutz! The judges are going to deduct a fraction of a point for that!

Homicidal Maniac: (lops off figure skater’s legs)

Figure Skating Announcer #1: Well, she’s going to lose more than a fraction of a point for that!

Land Mine: BOOOOOM!

(You’ll note that this wasn’t terribly different from Tonya Harding’s Olympic strategy. Tonya Harding was clearly a visionary. A dirty, slutty, whore visionary.)



Even the non-sports would be improved: All race cars (NASCAR, Formula-One, you name it) should come equipped with 50 live scorpions. Golf should be played in an African wildlife safari attraction. You should totally get to punch opposing poker players in the head at will.

I’m not just saying these things because the mescaline I’m on right now is absolutely top-shelf. No, these are legitimate, world-changing ideas that would transform the sporting landscape from a stodgy, old-fashioned emphasis on outdated concepts such as “sportsmanship”, “fair play”, and “not being impaled with a pool cue” into a more streamlined and modern take on sports that would result in Tiger Woods being mauled by a hippo.

This is why I am asking you, my dear reader, to write your congressperson, Senator, ward attendant, anyone you know and suggest that I would make a great Commissioner of All Sports. And if you copy me on any correspondence you send, I’ll even enter you into a drawing with the winner getting the opportunity to place the first land mine (as a Cubs fan, might I suggest the White Sox dugout?)