The Jose Vidro Challenge

The Oscar Wildes seem to be the hot topic du jour at 826, from the kids we tutor who are (understandably) amused at the thought of us performing any sort of feat that requires coordination to those of us on the team. The consensus seems to be that our performance will be adequate: not so bad as to embarrass ourselves, but not necessarily good enough to win any games.

In this regard, we are better than the local nine.

For those of you who haven't been paying attention to our better-compensated counterparts on the Mariners, the team has been the most shameful thing to come out of Seattle since that Angelina Jolie movie; the squad that was picked by some (apparently uninformed) experts to win the AL West just two months ago is instead in contention for the worst record in baseball. It's not just that this team is bad, it's that they're setting new standards for ineptitude.

The worst of this the Mariners' DH, Jose Vidro. Calling Mr. Vidro (a.k.a. "Turbo") the Mariners' designated hitter is true only in the technical sense. Yes, he was designated (sadly, not for assignment as of yet), but the hitting thing just isn't happening. As someone whose sole purpose on the team is to provide offense, his OPS+, a measure of offensive prowess, displayed as a percentage relative to the league average, is at 78. His raw OPS (on-base percentage plus slugging) is at .634, baseball's average as I write this is exactly 100 points higher.

And, as I rage against this embarrassment of a baseball player, I can't help but think we can do better.

As such, I present to you, my fellow Oscar Wildes and our myriad fans, the Jose Vidro Challenge: Any Oscar Wilde who, at the end of our season, has a higher OPS than Jose Vidro will receive a complimentary pint of a cold beverage, on me.

This is not without caveats. First, to weed out any small sample size flukes, you must have at least five at-bats with the team. Second, in the unlikely event that the Mariners' front office produces a stunning display of aptitude and releases Turbo before the Oscar Wildes' season ends, then Turbo's final OPS with the team will be counted. And third, I think you know what I mean by a pint of a cold beverage; don't go expecting me to buy you a pint of Peruvian emu milk.

So, my fellow Oscar Wildes, I hope you take this as additional motivation. Forget personal pride, forget proudly representing 826. Now, you all have the chance to humiliate Jose Vidro, even if he'll never know it.