Here we gather once again to bury those who those lives have reached an unfortunate premature end. For these poor souls were well enough to be respected, but failed to accomplish their lot in life. Some were an improvement from past generations, others a failure in the eyes of their ancestors.
As with the others, we bury them in mass as they will soon be gone from our collective consciousness, a vague memory in the lineage of the ages. For they are the nondescript, the filler, and the forgotten. They are the middle class, safely removed from the bowels of the bottom, but far from the prestige of the pinnacle.
Great Creator Doubleday, please welcome the 2009 Oakland A’s: to your hereafter. For despite every effort to rub nickels and create dollars from 15 cents, their cutting edge frugal initiatives have long lost their sharpness due to the dulling of imitation. Like Lewis and Clark on a transnational superhighway, they are trailblazers in need of a new trail. Until that time however, they will continue to be run over. May they rest in peace.
To their brethren by the bay, the 2009 San Francisco Giants, despite golden arms and the emergence of a panda knowledgeable in the fighting styles of the Shaolin, you still have not reached the level brought to you by the record-setting godson of a diamond legend. Your life however has made many optimistic for the future, when future generations will be the benefactor of the golden arms going platinum and the pandas leading a capable cast that has more bite than the current batch of leaf biters. But until the new generation arrives, may you rest in peace.
As they do in ‘hood, let us pour out a little alcohol for the 2009 Milwaukee Brewers. Still led by the son of royalty, they achieved less than their predecessor, although that was to be expected when they failed to have a wallet big enough to match ducats with the upper class. As it was, their twin pillars of power and collection of miscellaneous cost-efficient flotsam were not enough. May they rest in peace.
Once again, we are burying a denizen of the Second City. This time, we look to the north, and the dysfunctional 2009 Chicago Cubs. Devoid of a Redheaded Messiah, they wallowed in a deep pool of poor production for far too long. Despite sending home the malcontent, they failed to shake the demons of another cursed existence. Now there is call for a new home, one that might possible clear the malignant aura of multiple eons of failure.
Like other bargain bin buyers, the 2009 Florida Marlins lived by the mantra of value shopping. Although they were miserly with the funds, they did lay the groundwork for a new domicile. For they are the first descendants of George and Wheezy, moving on up, to a new deluxe home in the city. Thanks to them, the future generations will only hope the fish won’t fry in their new kitchen because it a whole lot of trying to get up that hill. But in the present day, however, we must bury them six feet deep. May they rest in peace.
Across the nation we bury the 2009 Seattle Mariners. The return of a legend from yesteryear all proved to us all that time stands still for no man, least not one of the greatest of all time. The ancient sailor, coupled with the singling samurai and other passed on pieces, did eventually turn around the vessel, but unfortunately the engines weren’t enough to keep up with the cruisers and battleships of the high seas. They fell leagues behind before eventually limping to port. From here they will be decommissioned and replaced with a newer young model. As time wears on us all, may they rest in peace.
And now we must lay to rest one that I hold dear to my heart, the 2009 Tampa Bay Rays. When you are blessed with so much in the past, to get half of what you wished for in the future is disheartening at best, discouraging at worst. You start wondering what you did right, what you are doing wrong, and if you will ever have the good times again. You open your wallet to attempt to make improvements, only to have them not work as advertised or worse, cause bigger problems. Soon you lose yourself in dismay, aimlessly slipping down a rabbit’s hole into a wonderland of worthlessness. You try to be optimistic, but when the wolves are on the porch and you have traded a famous rifle for a bag of angelic beans and you find yourself unable to slam the door, it is no wonder your family decides enough is enough and they elect to not see you anymore. Soon your heart hurts and it’s time to pull the plug. Whereas your predecessor may have lived longer, this is your end. May you rest in peace.