The nomination process, which was as close to blatantly stealing from one Dayn Perry as I dare get, for he is from Mississippi, probably owns several firearms, and has booby-trapped his house, is now complete. So now comes the part which I both love and fear, the exercise of your franchise. Love, because I enjoy seeing how the teeming, grubby masses abuse the great freedom of the vote that they were mistakenly given, and fear because the results always represent a stumble downward, away from the perfect Eden which the One True God, Mike Trout, wants for us.
And so, it is with trepidation and titillation that I present to you your opportunity to decide which ballplayer, because of his ubiquity and transformative ability, once and forever more,, shall be called “Big Data” behind his back (for who among us is likely to have the prairie oysters to say it to his face?).
Thank you for proving the Founding Fathers wrong.
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