Miami Marlins Install Retractable Stadium Floor
by Andrew Otazo
Originally Published in The Plantain, April 9, 2019
Twelve Miami Marlins and eight Boston Red Sox players were rushed to Jackson Hospital today when Marlins Stadium’s newly installed retractable floor was opened during the pre-game National Anthem. They suffered fractured knee, ankle, and various other leg injuries after falling 15 feet onto a concrete basement floor. Several dozen other players, coaches, color guards, and mascots experienced relatively minor bruises that did not necessitate hospitalization.
Upon being asked why the team had installed such a patently dangerous contraption, Marlins CEO Derek Jeter responded with, “I don’t f***ing know! Ask Loria! I had no idea we had a retractable floor!”
When pressed on why he hadn’t done his due diligence before buying the franchise, Mr. Jeter gave this reporter the middle finger and slammed a door in his face.
Jeffrey Loria, the Marlins’ former president and sentient personification of all Seven Deadly Sins, was found wallowing in a copper bathtub filled with hundred dollar bills and drumsticks—as is his wont.
“It’s branding, baby!” he exclaimed between mouthfuls of fried chicken. “You need the biggest, the best, the loudest, the craziest to draw in the fans! You need to spend money!”
Mr. Loria shifted his weight in the bathtub before pulling a stack of bills from behind his back. He inspected it closely, shrugged, and threw it over a shoulder.
“Of course, not your, money if you can help it,” he added with a chuckle. “Any money will do! The point is to acquire it and then spend it lavishly.”
I asked Mr. Loria whether he believed the purchase such amenities was ultimately detrimental to the team’s wellbeing.
“Detrimental?” he retorted self-righteously. “You’re talking about it aren’t you? The press is writing about it! The fans are posting about it! You can’t buy that exposure! It’s the best thing to happen to the team in years!”
When questioned on whether that money might have been better invested in the actual players rather than dubious stadium infrastructure, Mr. Loria looked at me as if I had grown an arm from my forehead.
“The players?” he asked in genuine confusion. “Who the f*** gives a s*** about the players?”
He took a hearty bite out from a drumstick he recently pulled from between his thighs and kicked me out of his house.
If you like our Miami-centric ridiculousness, check out the first chapter of our upcoming book!