How to Destroy Baseball Immediately

Earlier today, my colleague Dayn Perry submitted for the readership’s consideration a plan to improve baseball. Though I can’t necessarily speak to the virtues of his proposal — one which, it needs to be said, involves praising, if only implicitly, the works and days of the American South — I certainly commend Mr. Perry for his efforts.

It seems only natural, given Mr. Perry’s submission, that we might turn our gaze in the other direction — that is, towards those rule changes which might destroy baseball immediately. One might note — and not incorrectly so, I think — that Major League Baseball itself has frequently been on the front lines of this effort, whether by instituting bizarrely significant rewards for winning the All-Star Game or proving notoriously stingy with their online media. Still, there are some means to the end of baseball’s destruction left unplumbed by even their tireless efforts.

Here are ten ways that the sport of baseball could be destroyed posthaste:

Raise the pitcher’s mound to, like, 14 or 17 feet or something.
Now everyone can be Bob Gibson!

Lower the pitcher’s mound to, like, negative-six feet.
I don’t know what the effect on the game would be necessarily, but it’d definitely screw big-time with Pitch f/x.

Make the season 367 days long.
There aren’t even that many days in a year! What is this, a frigging Charlie Kaufman movie?

Award a run to the pitching team for every batter HBP’d in the beanbag.
This would certainly be a sign that the Players Association had lost its bargaining powers.

Forbid unfortunate facial hair.
J.P. Howell would be the only relief pitcher left in the entire major leagues.

Enforce a minimum Wonderlic score for players.
A league in which Ross Ohlendorf is that ace-iest of the aces probably isn’t providing great baseballing action.

Enforce a minimum Wonderlic score for fans.
Otherwise, who’d go see Phillies games?

Destroy North America, either via warfare or natural disaster or another way.
That’s where most of the world’s baseball players are, duh.

Allow zombie players.
They probably wouldn’t run in the baselines, for one thing. Also, they generally feast on human flesh — which, that’d make for awkward rides on the team plane, I’m guessing.

Allow Carson Cistulli to run a team.
“I’m pleased to announce the signing of Colby Lewis to a 27-year, $1 million-billion contract.”