(Author’s note: This almost happened)
Beneath the shadow of the Grand Trump, in Grand Trump National Park – formerly known as Grand Teton National Park – the first major league baseball game in Wyoming’s long history is about to commence.
The shadow of Grand Trump is a smidgen longer than usual these days, because Trump has added 36 feet of concrete to the pinnacle.
Grand Trump is now the BIGLIEST peak in the Big Empty and folks in Trump County can finally brag on that fact. Screw you, Gannett Peak!
Named “Trump Field,” the new baseball park is temporary, as is everything in the physical universe. But it has that MAGA flair – lots of simulated marble and gold paint.
Construction has taken a mere two years, once Mormon Row was flattened and the Moulton Barn torn down.
Seating at Trump Field is limited to about 40,000, but none of the seats are cheap. There are only opulent skyboxes and more expensive skyboxes.
Nothing, in fact, is cheap at Trump Field.
Ballpark franks from Argentina (sold as hotDOGEs) cost $45 (all payments in crypto-currency, of course), and thirsty fans can wash them down with $25 North Korean beers, all boasting the MAHA Gold Seal of Healthy Eating.
There is plenty of parking for Bentleys and Lambos in the spacious new asphalt parking lot, and the more well-heeled baseball fans can land on the concrete helipad where buffalo once played catch, tossing tourists back and forth..
Massive yellow earthmovers idle at the verge of the parking lot, ready to make good on Major League Baseball’s promise that Trump Field will be temporary, and return things to a pristine state of nature.
Black diesel smoke is burped intot he air while the reclamation crews wait for the last out.
Before the final notes of Kid Rock singing the national anthem echo off the distant peaks, a hungry bear eats a tourist kid wandering outside the fence, expensive hotDOGE and all.
Fans flock to capture the moment on their phones before turning back to file under the gleaming faux-marble arch into Trump Field for the game.
The stands, demographically speaking, are neatly divided into Red and Blue cheering sections.
The Blue fans consider the designated hitter rule to to be an inclusive and empathetic act of love that makes pitchers feel better about themselves. Red fans abhor it as Satan’s Bolshevik ploy to turn all our kids gay.
There’s a lot at stake in this game.
The honor of throwing out the first pitch is bestowed on Constitution Party candidate for governor Rebecca “Checkgate Becky” Bextel, who waves gaily to the crowd and struts to the mound.
Bextel’s campaign theme is that she has “more balls” than her opponents, and she demonstrates it by throwing the first four pitches low and outside, walking an imaginary batter.
The game itself is a pretty boring affair, with neither the visiting Reds nor the home team Blues able to generate much offense.
The score is tied at goose-eggs by the time Ted Nugent sings “Cat Scratch Fever” during the seventh inning stretch, while thick swarms of Snake River mosquitoes gorge themselves on the blood of baseball fans and get a little tipsy from all that North Korean beer.
In the bottom of the ninth, the Blues threaten when a Dominican batter singles to the hole.
He is caught by ICE trying to steal second, and hauled away in a convoy black Suburbans so his papers can be checked. Reds fans do the wave.
Scoreless extra innings ensue.
As everyone knows, baseball can be boring if one expects constant action. And there is no time limit to the boredom; it just goes on and on with no regard to the clock. It has that kind of beauty.
So the first big league baseball game in the history of Wyoming is called a scoreless tie due to darkness because nobody thought to install lights.
Disgruntled fans stumble back to their cars by the light of smart phones, and mumble that the next major sporting event in Grand Trump National Park should offer more drama, like the monster truck show finals or a UFC jello wrestling marathon.
Rod Miller can be reached at: RodsMiller@yahoo.com
