With a divisional rival in town, its only natural for the internet to turn into a festering Petri dish of insults. Braves suck! Phillies suck! Bobby Cox hates women! Charlie Manuel once killed and devoured a bull moose in front of a kindergarten class!
In response to such remarks, we often see our enemies and ourselves breach the topic of “class.” Often times, the “classiness” of the other team’s fans is brought into question, just prior to an insult that questions the “classiness” of ourselves. It is a neverending cycle with no end, and like a snake eating its own tale, we are doomed to choke to death if this keeps up. But not on snake flesh. On unpleasantness.
So we have compiled a short list of ways to install classiness in every baseball game, so that these intense rivalries become the vacant, lifeless sporting events they were intended to be.
And before you even say, “Hey, asshole. What do you know about class?!” maybe you should read my guide to Meeting a Lady at Citizens Bank Park.
Root for no teams
Picking a side is for people with opinions and regional pride! That’s not you, though. At least, not anymore. Maybe your father told you that he used to listen to Harry Kalas with a small radio under the blankets. Maybe he described it as his favorite part of the summer—as the moment he fell in love with the game, and one of the main components as to why he so lovingly passed baseball along to you.
Time’s have changed. These days, baseball is about filling a wheelbarrow with your most prized memorabilia, soaking it in kerosene, and, well… you know what happens next. We all know what you did to that elementary school.
Representing one team over the other through cheers or fashion statements is just unfair! How do you think that other team feels out there? All lost and alone, delirious from homesickness, wandering around the outfield grass, not knowing if their family and friends are alive or dead.
No, its best to just sit there and root for the game itself. If everyone remains neutral, then our message boards will be free to conduct productive, interesting debates, rather than cowardly trolling and the occasional penis enlargement pill. The next time the Braves are in town, let us wear neither red nor navy blue; let us avoid the Phanatic Dance and the tomahawk chop.
Actually you should avoid the tomahawk chop regardless of your intentions because it is 2011 and boy that is just racist as fuck.
No one speaks
Think about it. The first part of you that reacts to something at a baseball game is your mouth. If everyone agrees to keep it quiet, then none of the hateful things we love to say can instigate a classless altercation. Take a look at this chart, which chronicles remarks we may have made before we became classy, and then indicates what may take hostility’s place.
If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. Sure, we may all die from the ulcers that form in our stomachs from keeping our hostility inside, but at least we’ll die… with class. As long as no one is looking when we inevitably void our bowels.
Make the games two innings long.
The less time we give ourselves to have an outburst, the less likely we are to do it in public. Think how classy we’ll look to Braves fans if we keep our irrational, unpredictable rage at home with our families. Will certain relatives be scarred for life? Absolutely. And not to mention ticket prices will seem even more astronomical for a game that ends pretty much by the time everyone finishes tailgating.
But what we sacrifice through destroyed childhoods and money will be made in spades by the classiness we feel. For too long, our divisional contests have been marred by the classless actions of those who want to be passionate, fiery, and drunk on their team. If we simply remove all of the fun parts of baseball, then it becomes a far more enjoyable game for the people we hate.
Obviously, the answer is a stadium full of neutrally-colored occupants sitting in complete silence for 45 minutes, tops.
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