So Long, Suckers!

This might alarm you guys to hear, but your ole pal Scrap Iron has been looking for a new job. This blogging nonsense doesn’t exactly pay the bills. I’ve been filling out applications left and right and even sunk so low as to put one in to become a chimney sweep. Yes, chimney sweeper is still a job and I didn’t get it. But don’t start feeling too bad for Scrap just yet, because I found the perfect job.

MLB Dream Job

In case you can’t read that, it says “Your new full-time job will be to literally follow baseball non-stop, as you will be charged with watching every single game of the 2011 season, blogging about all your thoughts and opinions, and discussing the hottest topics in baseball”.

So here’s what I’m getting out of this. They send you to New York where they lock you in a sensory deprivation chamber for the entire 2011 season with nothing but a laptop and a pot to piss in. You sit in the pitch black blogging about baseball until 7 o’clock rolls around (or noon on Sundays) and the room turns into the architect’s room from The Matrix

Me, come Opening Day.

with nothing but baseball games on. As the games end, the TVs click off one by one as you shout out to the Heavens for extra innings because the TV being on is the closest thing to natural light that you’ll see for the next 7 months. You “literally follow baseball non-stop”. No other TV. They put Bess on your computer so you can’t go to any other website besides your blog. Forget your friends, they don’t exist any more. Have a pet? Gone. Dead. Wife? Girlfriend? Boyfriend? They left you, sorry. The only thing you have to look forward to are new commercials, unless the MLB finds a way to get rid of those too. Oh, and you get the occasional lunch meat sandwich that gets slid under your door because God forbid a human actually enter your room and disturb you while you write a bunch of words about baseball, let alone speak to you. Perfect.  What’s not to like? I’m in. Sign me up. And just in case this sounds up your alley, fucking forget it. The deadline to send in your application was yesterday assholes. You didn’t think I’d let you try to take my job, did you?

At the risk of turning swayzesghost into an all-baseball-all-the-time blog, I’ll spare you the details of my application, but I will give you a little taste of how it went.

The application starts off by listing some requirements: “Strong writing skills”. Check. “Strong verbal communication skills”. I talk to people sometimes and they talk back at me and then sometimes I’ll even say something back again, so I think I’m good. “Must have a witty and creative personality”. Take a look at this website, I think it’s pretty god damned obvious. I’m starting to think I’m perfect for this job. “Must adhere to all other policies and procedures as required by MLB”. Annnnddd I’m out, unless I can score some clean urine before my interview. Listen, I’m not some kind of toker-head (™ Dirt Linwood) here, it’s just that damned Bud Selig and his pesky anti-steroid policy. It’s all about being healthy and getting into shape here people.

Then they ask for past experience. I write things for, wrote for the now defunct (RIP), and beg the people at The New York Times to publish my articles concerning the government. As far as baseball experience goes, I have obsessively filled out a box score for every Cincinnati Reds game since 1991 so I think it should be obvious that I know my shit.

Now we get to the juicy part; the essay. “In the first part, tell us about yourself and why you love baseball.(500 word limit)” I was born in Truth or Consequences, NM in the great year of 1966 to Jan and Jeremy Iron (No, not the actor. His last name is Irons). I was raised Catholic but I have since converted to Scientology. Coeincidentally this was in 1990, the same year that the Cincinatti Reds won the world series. I’m not saying that’s what caused it, I’m just saying that Xenu works in mysterious ways. Anywho, I became a fan of baseball pretty early in my life after my dad forced me to play tee-ball in an effort to live out his child hood dreams. He made it to the minor leagues and would settle for nothing less for his only son. Unfortunately, I was just not very good.  Plain awful, actually.  I am notoriously uncoordinated and my leg braces made it a bear of a time trying to play. Imagine if you will, a baby fawn trying to take its first steps. On a sheet of ice. That’s exactly what I looked like when walking, let alone trying to run to first. I wanted to give up playing immediately in lieu of just watching but father wouldn’t have it. Thankfully, Xenu intervened one day when a wild dog mistook me for food and left me nearly crippled. It was the best thing to ever happen to me. I became the teams unofficial mascot and official score keeper which sparked my life long love of baseball.

Me, trying to run to 1st base.

In the second part, answer one of the following questions (500 word limit). Who will win the American and National League Most Valuable Player Awards in 2011? Make a strong case for your selections. NL MVP: Easy, Joey Votto. I don’t need to explain that one to you, you’re smart people. AL MVP: That one’s a bit trickier as I don’t believe in the AL as a concept. I mean, designated hitters?  C’mon.  So I’ll say, oh, I dunno, Vladimir Guerrero. He’s still a person, right?

From there on out it’s just a bunch of questions about education and my address and everything, which I’m pretty sure I nailed. So arrivederci swayzesghost, I’m moving on to greener pastures. Be sure to check out my blog which I’m sure will be on any day now.

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