Astros Sold, Agree To Move To AL

MILWAUKEE (AP)—Baseball owners unanimously approved the sale of the Houston Astros from Drayton McLane to Jim Crane on Thursday, which will lead to the team moving from the NL Central to the AL West for the 2013 season.

As part of the Astros’ agreement to switch leagues, the sale price was cut from $680 million to $615 million, a person at Thursday’s meeting told The Associated Press. The person spoke on condition of anonymity because details weren’t announced. In recent years, MLB has extended loans and other machinations to secure enthusiastic new members of their 1% Club.

Crane, as new owner of the Astros, it is rumored, was forced to accept changing leagues as a condition of purchase. The discounted $615M announced price is about a median value by sports franchise measure.

Commissioner Bud Selig said owners also approved two additional wild-card teams for the postseason, meaning 10 of the 30 teams make the playoffs. Selig said he hopes the expanded playoffs can start next year, but he said the specifics are being worked out. The players’ association favors the move.

“You do things for a long period of time. The addition will really help us in the long run,” Selig said.

The decision will give each league 15 teams, baseball’s first realignment since the Milwaukee Brewers switched from the AL to the NL after the 1997 season. The move contains ramifications for decades-old scheduling, rules and other differences that separate those baseball clubs collectively known as the “american” league of affiliated franchise operations from a similarly-monikered “national league”.

Bud has ideas. Big ideas. Next, baseball will have a halftime show. I kid you not.

Have you ever heard anything as absurd as others amongst a crowd suddenly and spontaneously screaming, cheering, or arguing with his TV over some sport development, like a play that went for naught (aaaarrgghhh) to a winning, miracle finish (crowd goes crazy) ? When you are dissociated in some fashion, it truly sounds silly. Absolutely silly. Dawg Pound? Ah, man, that ain’t right.

I will from here forward NEVER capitalize these affiliated league designations, american or national, united or major, as it is absurd. We have real concerns here, people. Stop with this bullsh*t. Really, enough.

This long-standing awe we attribute to sport, and other silly collective distractions; media, pornography, no, not just Hollywood, actual pornography, too, all this stuff. What the f*ck, people? We got time for this? Really?

Seriously, we collectively blow our spew to the tune of hundreds of millions, even billions of dollars annually. Year in, year out, this continues to the exclusion of any other loosely-affiliated corporate associations that might attempt to provide for some actual common good (guess they lack the lawyered-up muck). Yeah, back to baseball, just for example, and these protected labor anti-trust exclusions first granted by Congress decades ago. This is a cabal of 30 owners, teams of lawyers in hand, demanding concessions from municipal and state governments despite their hugely silly wealth. Demanding time spent with family be for generations fractured by this false god of sport that men (mostly!) pray to all summer, to the exclusion of their civic, family and adult responsibilities to build a better world for our heirs, and to the exclusion of many (OMG, actual, real, affirming, thoughtful, caring, committed, inclusive, community-building, loving) celebratory ‘campaigns’ much more fulfilling than simple victory of our geographical region over some imagined enemy. Or foe. Or opponent.

Add in the assorted other silliness that is sport. Just a few men, through their ties to media, the advertising world, and the larger world of finance and government, manipulate literally every single weekend of the year. Billions of dollars annually is siphoned off this economy. Our collective purpose is thwarted. Not coincidentally, FOX NEWS CORP has become the single most influential force keeping this in place. Sport is pablum. Theater. Lies. Fixed. Crooked. Ridiculous on its’ face. It is a singular distraction that must be not just ignored, but trampled. Underfoot.

To the victor go the spoils? Nope. Don’t get me wrong, dudes, I’m a junkie, too, but…

Sorry, I have no enemies.

Am I getting through to you? Nah, didn’t think so.