Sez Me …
McDonald’s Ball.
I sincerely hope I’m wrong, but there’s a better chance of me being a finalist for Mr. Universe than this drive-thru-fast-food version of Major League Baseball being played out in its entirety, if at all.
Seems unhealthy.
As witty Bud Tucker once said, I see three chances: slim, none and fat.
But they will attempt to play and, like the McRib, be available for a limited time.
This is nothing to do with Canepa’s Theory of Negativity, which I’ve heard since last Sunday’s piece in which I declared team sports dead this year.