To the editors of Mudville:

Your insinuation that my work as Commissioner of Baseball is nothing more than a "puppet regime" is insulting, not only to me, but the institution of baseball itself. Baseball and puppetry have never, in any way, shape or form, forged any alliance whatsoever. Furthermore, puppetry, unlike baseball, is a much more profitable venture, one that I myself might have engaged in if I wasn't such a humble and patriotic man willing to lose millions just to force the citizens of Wisconsin to build a stadium to house the worst, most uninteresting team in the sport. Mudville Magazine's constant harping on my regime is grating on the nerves of our little ownership cabal, and we politely ask you to stop picking on us. Perhaps you could run a little column called "Ask the Owner", which I, myself, would be glad to write, although I'm not an owner, but rather the father of a woman who acts as owner though really isn't. This is not a conflict of interest! I don't even talk to her anymore! I could explain it all if you'd only let me have my little column, as the Minneapolis Star-Tribune does (I go by the name Sid Hartman). Please help me build you a stadium in Minnesota, and maybe one in Iowa if I decide to move the Brewers there. Or Las Vegas. We could have a buffet table!

Bud Selig
Commissioner for Life

PS: Mention this ad and receive free floormats with purchase of used AMC
vehicles at any of my lots!

To the editors of Mudville:

I'm not a guy that likes to get pissed off. Sometimes, at the Burger King down the street, they'll forget the extra pickles on my Whopper, or only put one on--hardly fucking 'extra' you ask me--but I don't shout. Those guys work hard for the money, as they say. Once in awhile you make a mistake. But it bugs me to see anyone bad mouth Cal Ripken Jr. Fucking Cal! That's like saying the Washington monument's too fucking... straight, or whatever. Cal's the man--or was the man. Hell, he's STILL the man, solid as the concrete you walk on to get to the bad seats at Camden. You say he's boring. Boring in what way? Because he's reliable? Hell, the guys like a Swiss watch, not like a Swatch, either, but one of those fancy fucking big-ass gold watches that winds itself when you shake your wrists. The kind that cost a mint. Reliable. I ask someone with a watch like that for the time, I know I'm going to get the fucking time. Right on. Cal broke the record for consecutive games played, man. I was there when he hit game number 2,605. That wasn't the record, but no one had ever played that many consecutive games before. Cal didn't get a hit or even fielded a ball, but when the fifth inning hit, I was there--to see the next one chunk on by. Kind of like when my pal Dug hit 126,316 miles on his old Dodge Horizon--you ain't never gonna see 126,316 miles on a red 1983 Dodge Horizon with Maryland license plates. Ever. And I was there. And to say Cal Ripken wasn't much of a spark to his team! What the hell more do you want? He sparked his team to appear in those 2,605 games--and then some! Holy shit, what's he supposed to do, spark 'em to victory? You have high expectations, my friend--too high. You don't go to Burger King and expect a Big Mac. You gotta drive to Annapolis for that. So lay off the Calman. He's retired, nothing more than an old man whittling baseball bats, probably. You're just making me pissed thinking about it!

Super-pissed the more I write,
Strom Thurmond Munson Jr.
Cabbageville, MD

To the editors of Mudville:

I just wanted to write to say that I like your website, although it doesn't really seem like a magazine, nor does it refer to Mud, or a town called Mudville. I've been thumbing through my 1997 Rand-McNally Road Atlas--which is just as good as the new one so don't bother asking me to spend the money--and I can't find a Mudville anywhere. And at the corner drugstore they've never heard of Mudville Magazine. I like baseball, which I consider a pure American sport. Sometimes I watch and keep watching, and the next thing I know I'm asleep, but that doesn't matter. Lots of things put me to sleep that I like--turkey springs to mind. And milk.

Keep up the good work,
George W. Bush

©2002 Mudville Magazine, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
A Member of
Web World