[pauwoo]

It’s 2016.
Major League Baseball, citing population growth (science!) and an unprecedented appetite for more, um, baseball (who needs science?) have undergone a completely unnecessary and ill-conceived expansion to 32 teams.

The announcement of the two new clubs was coupled with several more, equally ill-conceived, um, announcements. They are, in no particular order, as follows:

1. Each league will henceforth (they didn’t use the word, ‘henceforth’, I added that myself… for the whimsy) be comprised of 16 teams.
2. Each leagues schedule shall be balanced.
3. With this expansion, we, the powers that be (think ‘illuminati’, where, said Illuminati's quest for a new world order is limited in scope to a chocolate confectionary that is running low on nougat) do hereby decree that interleague play shall cease. Immediately.
4. Each league will consist of four divisions of four teams. It’s dumb. You hate it. And we don’t care.
5. Two new clubs will be established. The first will call Charlotte, North Carolina home (makes sense, a city on the rise) and the second will be rooted in Orlando, Florida (The theme park capital of the world! Wait. What?).
6. We’re also moving Houston back to the National League.
7. Additionally, we’re moving Milwaukee back to the American League.


All well and good, I suppose. The MLB is gon’ MLB, as they say.

Really, I’m just setting the stage here, because this is where I come in… I’m on a beach, in SoCal, bagging rays and taking longboard lessons after having been summarily dismissed by the San Diego Padres for leading them to depths even their longtime faithful would never have deemed fathomable. A man of questionable intellect with verifiably poor general management acumen who was about to be handed the keys to the magic kingdom.

Listen, when my agent called to tell me that the Orlando ownership had expressed interest in me as a GM candidate, I showed great, if slightly ingenuine, excitement. When he told me that despite joining a group of teams swimming in a sea of naming convention plurality, they were to be called, simply, ‘Magic’, I didn’t balk. Not even once. No sir. I did what every baseball-loving red-blooded American would do in my position. I took the money and ran.

There are 162 games to go, we have 5 catchers on the 40-man roster, half a bag of sunflower seeds, it’s dark out and we’re wearing eye-black.

HIT IT!


Note: Planning on this being a single season dynasty.
Attachments: League Alignment