Owner Ryan Bond Has His Say
Cairo Chronicles, Issue 3, 2042 Season
After reading some fun team press releases, particularly in the UMEBA in fact, I’m going to try to change my writing style to a less formal, more narrative based feel. This might take some work though.
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“What do you mean, ‘no one cares about our press releases’? I love reading about our team!” The stormy and full of bluster Cairo Chariot Archers owner Ryan Bond shouted this while reacting to a brief group email that the Cairo assistant general manager Jim Pickett sent about what the team should communicate in its press releases.
The three men: Bond, Pickett and myself, the team’s general manager, decided to get together in person to hash it out.
Well, I didn’t decide to do this. Pickett cajoled me with a few Basil Hayden’s last night and I capitulated.
“I didn’t mean that no one cares...” Pickett started to reason. But the train had gone off the rails even before Bond had set foot in the door and he cut him off. “You said it! I read it. You said that no one cares about our team press releases!”
I tried to enter in some rational thinking. “No one gives a shit about us patting ourselves on the back. I mean, really, does anyone care that Elijah Curry is having the season of his life hitting .363? I mean, maybe our fans. But overall, we need more captivating content, more interesting stuff to communicate.”
Bond retorted, “Oh, bullshit! People love our celebrating over Damon Urry, that young-ass pitcher being promoted from single A to double A! The kid hasn't give up a run all season long! You can’t tell me people don’t care!”
“I just tried to tell you that people don’t.”
Pickett pleaded for cooler heads to prevail. “Ok, wait a minute. This can be done. We can unnecessarily boast about our own players AND make some interesting content. Say, a campaign for our prized rookie Fraser Pond to make the Burt League All-Star team this year. He's pitching so well and he's our ace even as a rookie. I mean, we could ask for our manager Bill Welsh’s ideas on the team.”
“That guy?”, Bond asked, flabbergasted. “I’ve wanted to fire that guy since the moment UMEBA was promoted to being considered a major league. That guy is bush league!”
“I’m just offering some ideas”, Pickett weakly replied, clearly flustered, frustrated and with frailty. He’d reached the end of his rope on this day. That didn’t bode well for me.
“Listen, we’ll do our best” is all I could muster. “We’ll masturbate about our team for the fans and whoever else wants to read about that.”
“Me, for one! Do it! That’s an order!”
And with that, Bond stormed out of the office, and Pickett and I gave perplexing looks to each other. Just one more day in the Cairo front office.
