Dear Friends: Our President Donald J. Trump stands at seventy-four days into his job as Commander in Chief-butt-kicker in the world, and if you get the 'it goes to eleven' reference, then you know his job has been an eleven. And if you don't get the reference,1 it means he's kicking butt. And soon to be taking names. And all of it under a level of scrutiny Edgar J. Hoover would have been master of, and that guy knew a thing or two about scrutiny. And under a level of criticism by the liberal-media-industrial-fake-news complex that Chelsea Clinton would be master of, and she knows a thing or two about nothing. And yet, despite the eleven-level job President Trump's doing, under Hoover-level scrutiny, and Clinton-level criticism, of which the latest scruti-cism is that he wouldn't throw out the first pitch at the Washington Nationals' home-opener, his job has been an eleven. And then some.
And simply said, he's too busy for baseball. And frankly said, if he's gonna get some exercise, we'd all rather he played a round of golf. As many as he likes, in fact. That's how business people do business, people. And if he decides to drive out the first drive at The Masters this weekend, we're all in. He's the President, and he works 12-15 hours a day, 6-7 days a week. (Reports of a 7 days a week work-week seem kinda fake-news-ish, kinda, but reports of the Russian dressing joke were accurately hilarious. Bravo, Sean Spicer. That was a Russian dressing-down. And take that, Melissa McCarthy. He can be funny, too.) And when it comes to golf, President Trump's the man.
However, and with all due respect, he's gotta throw out a first pitch, if not that particular first pitch. It's essential. This is still America here. Which is still synonymous with baseball. And hot dogs, with mustard. And apple pie. And Chevrolet. (Until Uber takes over. Note to President Trump: Please do not allow Uber to take over. We loooove driving our cars here. And then some. This is still America here.) And as for producing the cars that the entire world likes most, the USA is still #1. Still. And always will be. (When I was younger and still in the land of middle-eastern state-made clap-trap not named Citroen (although we had one of those, too, but preferred our Land Rover), an automatic transmission was the coolest thing ever. And power windows and locks were like a sci-fi dream come true. But let's please leave it at that. Driverless cars seem like they have the potential to lead us into a sci-fi nightmare. Seriously.) And if we're gonna let any car company take over, it should be Jeep. I know Jeep is Chrysler, but you all know what I mean. Jeeps are the best, in all their shapes and forms, because Jeeps are as loyal as a dog. And dogs love Jeeps. And we love our dogs. Because this is America here.
And, in the non-Jeep category, is there any sports car in the entire world that can out-pace a Corvette? Come on, man. Not even. We set the sports-car-bar high in this country. And I personally guarantee that if we ever sponsored a worldwide competition for every country in the world to produce their single-fastest-sports-car-ever, we would win. Easily. Because we could produce a Corvette that could reach warp-speed, if we chose to. We simply don't choose to. We'd just simply produce a darn fast Corvette, and put it on any 1/4 mile track in the world (and we'd insist it be a 1/4 mile track, because a 1/4 mile kicks any kilometer's butt, any day of the Monday through Sunday work-week), especially if the track's in Germany, or Italy. We'd love to kick that Euro-off-the-trash-heap Italian butt all over their own track, and Italy, German sports cars also kick your Italian sports car derrières (meh, mixed metaphor, but that's the only way to represent French cars. Peugeot? Huh? And don't get me started on Citroen. And as for the English, their cars may as well all be called Spit-fires, they spend so much time in the shop), and would also kick it all over the track, and any day of the short-work European work-week. And when we're talking German sports cars here, we're talking Porsche. And when we're talking Porsche, we're talking the 959. Which should totally be resurrected, Magnesium wheels and all, simply so the Corvette can kick its butt, Magnesium wheels and all, with our Corvette fiberglass that makes it fly as if at warp-speed and on rubber-like-no-other tires and our way-cooler Corvette wheels, and put this debate to rest. And the 959 back to rust. Because the Corvette would be faster than the 959, and therefore, by extrapolation, the fastest car in the world. Period.
And as for a presidential first pitch, the bar there is set so low, President Trump will laugh. (He should have his staff YouTube a video of the last president to throw out a first pitch. Do you know who that was? The last president. And, the last president is now a technical term, as he's taken over that distinction from the former last president, Jimmy Carter. Yes, the last president is now the last president, after Jimmy Carter.) He'll laugh because the last president tried to throw a fastball, flip-flopped into a curveball, mid-wind-up, and ended up throwing an Eephus ball. Which was a whole lot outside. (A feat topped only by his having missed 19 straight basketball shots, also probably on YouTube. And quite possibly, Eephus-and-outside is the worst-funniest pitch combo in the history of first pitches, including 50 Cents's. Which by the way, which genius thought it a good idea to allow a fictionally coined gangsta-rap-guy pitch a first anything? And as for 50 Cent being pronounced Fitty Cent, and not Fiddy Cent, was their an unknown rap-war between Fiddy and Diddy? And did Diddy win, so Fiddy became Fitty? Enquiring minds want to know. And you know what to do, Chelsea.)
And President Trump's first pitch wouldn't have to compete with George W. Bush's legendary perfect strike like it was pitched by Mariano Rivera pitch, which was the best first pitch ever, and simply untoppable. And of course, it's now too late for President Trump to throw out the first pitch at that Home Opener anyway (Marlins are up 2-1 in the bottom of the 7th), but that's okay. In fact, it's a brilliant strategy. President Trump should throw out the first pitch of the second game of the season. After all, all he needs to do to beat the last president's first pitch is basically just show up. Of course, they'll definitely protest him, in the form of boos, but he's gotta show up and show em all he can throw a strike when called upon. And we here know he can, since just like George W. Bush, President Trump actually played baseball. And well.
And as for the boos, we here have a simple solution for that: President Trump is more than welcome, as far as I'm personally concerned, to wear a red Philadelphia Phillies jacket to pitch the first pitch of the Nationals' second game. It's a deeper shade of red than the Nationals'. And they would boo the jacket, and not the President. And we here would gladly take the boos for the President. It would be an absolute honor to do so.
1See "This Is Spinal Tap." (Embassy Pictures; 1984). You'll love it.