Tuesday, April 12, 2016
Posted by el duque at 6:18 AM
For those of you scoring at home, in the year 2046, Hal "Food Stamps" Steinbrenner will be 76 and the richest man on the planet. Brian Cashman will be 78, and Trumpian team president Randy Levine will be a bawdy, ribald 91, with his Monsanto-made hairpiece barely pushing 30. If I am not a pile of dust, I hereby vow to find Levine's assisted living facility and punch him in his plastic nose, if only because I vaguely confuse him with Ronald McDonald.
By then, I'll have spent 10 years in a virtual reality helmet, taking felony-grade hallucinogens and playing SS for the Yankees. I'll be living on Little Debbie Snack Cakes that were packaged in 2016, and which still haven't gone stale.
In 2046, A-Rod will be 70, and delighting listeners with his old-man f-bombs on the Yankees Radio Network, driven (literally) by Google.
Geiko will only require 15 seconds to save on insurance. The law firm of Celino & Barnes & Noble will sue God on your behalf, two-faced Bigelow Tea will still support the Yankees and Redsocks.
Luis Severino will be 52 and pitching for the New York State Smokers Quitline. Holograms of John Sterling and Suzyn Waldman will star in the most popular TV sitcom of the year, and calls to the bullpen will be brought to us by our 10-State Audi Dealers.
In 2046, to drive from New York to Tampa will require you to pass through the Republic of Jesus, which will want to see your birth certificate bookmarked in your personal Bible. Won't matter to me: The 666-shaped mole on my skull will exclude me at the checkpoints.
Someday, maybe 500 years from now, divers will find a statue of George M. Steinbrenner under 30 feet of water, and they'll wonder if Ozymandius was just a poem.