Let's Do The Numbers...
Monday, 27 June 2011 22:18
Stormy weather...hundred and fifty million here hundred and fifty million there...pretty soon you're talkin' 'bout real money.
So, here's the deal. We file as a five-oh-one-cee-three and do an initial offering priced at ten dollars a share. That's one hundred million shares to get to a billion. Say we get to half that, five hundred million gets their attention. We wave that around and see if bigger players (Mark Cuban, the Garvey/Hershiser noisemakers, etc...) want a piece, then we get the management team in place.
I know lawyers.
Seidler's havin' fun in Visalia, but that's just because it's minor league ball and it's pure. We need to make Dodger Stadium fun and pure again - not the frackin' locked down police state Frank Frackin' McCourt's turned it into. If everyone's got a piece of the action, there's motivation to make it cool, make it the good old days, cuz, as Carly Simon says, these are the good old days.
We don't need a billion dollars, that's the good news. The bad news is we need some sum of money, a large sum, and even then the battle's just begun. We have to convince sixteen other ownership groups that a bunch of meddling kids belong in their precious club. Hells bells, we (and by we, I mean fans across the country) can take this model and take over sixteen other clubs.
Stage a revolution.
Rabble rousers. You're not one of those rabble rousers, are you? Frackin' A Right I'm a frackin' rabble rouser extraordinaire! Let's go on strike, they can keep their fourteen dollar beers and twenty-five dollar parking spots. I'll watch minor league ball. I'll watch the game on the frackin' television, online, streaming audio.
Let the frackin' owners pound sand.
It's a long season. We've got time. The clock's tickin' on Frank Frackin' McCourt. We can figure this out into October, we can figure this out next year. The indelible foot prints of Time march on, like a machine, a motherfrackin' juggernaut, waiting for no one, it's on our side, oh, yes it is. Listen, people, it's in the wind, you hear it? That's right...change. Not chump change, either. Big time change, jingling jangling spurs, spawning and dawning, days of wine and Pete Roses. We will prevail.
Numbers don't lie.