Friday, October
29, 1:35 AM PST
World Champion Red Sox Relocating to Orlando
by Brent
the Johnson,
NA!P NewsWire
BOSTON -- Right on the heels of a historic World Series
victory that ended an 86-year-old championship drought comes
the amazing -- and for Bostonians, unthinkable -- revelation
that, after a 117-year love affair with the city, the Red Sox
will relocate to Orlando, Florida.
"It's amazing, just amazing,"
cheered local Orlando resident Kenneth Eller as he read the news
in the Orlando Sentinel. "We needed our own professional
baseball team, and we finally got it. Who'd of thought it'd be
the Red Sox, though?"
Under the agreement, the Red
Sox -- to be renamed the "Orlando Read Socks" to help
promote literacy -- will begin playing in Orlando in the 2005
season. Disney, a partner in the deal, will help design the new
ballpark, which will feature a miniaturized version of the "Green
Monster."
Disney will also install a new
Audio-Animatronics® boat ride in the new ballpark -- much
like Disneyland's "It's a Small World" boat ride, it
will feature dozens of historic Red Sox and Read Socks players
singing "Take Me Out to the Ball Game."
"The Ted Williams doll is
going to be the best one," said Disney Imagineer Myra Mortenson.
"I can't say too much, but let's just say we're in talks
with his son John Henry regarding the use of his father's cryogenically
frozen body."
Another John Henry, this one
the principal owner of the Red Sox/Read Socks, seemed surprised
that news of the deal had leaked so quickly.
"Uh... can you keep this
on the down-low for 24 hours?" he whispered when questioned
about the deal in the midst of the Red Sox victory parade taking
place in the downtown Boston. "I'm a bit afraid for my life."
Within the hour, however, rumors
of The New News' scoop struck celebrating Bostonians like
a Bill Buckner Seventh Game error, turning a once joyful celebration
into a typically ugly and violent day after a Red Sox loss.
Within two hours, the last anyone
saw of John Henry, he was sucked into a gigantic mob of angry,
drunken Red Sox fans calling for his sacrifice to the "baseball
gods."
Within five hours, the entire
city was a burning pyre, sacrificed to the "baseball gods"
as penance by fans who, by celebrating the end of a curse that
had defined them for generations, may have offended a higher
authority.
