A New Barrett for President (or at least your starting All Star National League Catcher)

There comes a time in all red blooded American's lives when a stand must be taken. When a man, or woman, must heft up their spear and draw line. This line may be drawn directly underneath the nose of one's enemies, it may, as is the case of our current Presidential administration, be drawn behind one's enemies. But regardless it is an ultimatum to the other individual stating that this is where you do not cross.

It is with these humble beginnings to a campaign that I, a citizen of this fine country of ours, nominate Michael Barrett for President of the United States of America. But since the election is not for another two years and a further handicap of being raised on MTV and not allowed the grace of remembering anything for longer than a hour, I challenge voters and keepers of this fine game of ours to vote Michael Barrett into being your next starting catcher for the National League.

Michael came from humble beginnings in the backwoods town of Atlanta, Georgia. A place that time has seemingly forgotten. A simpler place where the question of "What sort of Coke do you want" isn't an invitation to limit oneself with the choice of "Cherry" or "Diet" or even "Coca-Cola Classic" but is bumpkin enough that it includes all form of sodas.

This man is a fighter, somebody that will go toe to toe with evil. It is surely his father that was at Lexington and Concord that fired the first shot and declared our Country’s independence. After his presidency, historians will probably discover ties to Einstein, to various nobilities from Europe as well as, Adam and Even themselves.

His quality was proven, yet again last Saturday the 20th as he did what all other men have to this point been too cowardly to do. He let loose with a mighty thwack on the skull of a Bitch Sux. In an echo that proves his stock and lineage he sent the evil one to the ground.

And now America, the challenge is for you. Please, pick up your pens, click on this link, vote for Michael Barrett, and give him the respect that he deserves. This act shall be the trumpet to all the rest of the catchers in this fine institution of ours. This line, this promise, this Americana of old: Whenever the Bitch Suck scores, you cold cock him in the face.

Good night and God bless you Michael Barrett.