Typical fandom bacteria are unmarried [single-celled] creatures with a rubbery membrane surrounding the fluid inside the cell. They can reproduce on their own given enough alcohol. Most fandom bacteria are harmless, and some actually help by digesting food, destroying disease-causing microbes, fighting cancer cells, and providing essential nutrients. Fewer than 1% of them cause diseases in other people or ever marry.
Loria’s viral infections are unique microorganisms because they cannot reproduce without a MLB franchise [host cell]. After contacting a host cell, a virus will insert genetic material [Samson] into the host and take over that host’s functions. The cell, now infected, continues to reproduce, but it reproduces more viral protein and genetic material instead of its usual products [enjoyment of a sport]. It is this process that earns viruses the classification of ‘parasite.’ In most cases, they reprogram the cells to make new viruses until the cells burst and die [see Montreal Expos].Loria’s most recent parasitic attack on its host was the firing of a manager who he had given a contract extension at the end of last season and then hiring a replacement, Dan Jennings, who has never managed or played at the MLB level.
Given his lack of qualifications, the obvious reason for the hire is assuring the owner of having a manager who will comply with his every dictate with no resistance. From the players point of view, there is another obvious conclusion, when you speak with Jennings you will be speaking with Loria. Any agent of a Marlins player who is not driving home that point today is incompetent. Scott Boras is not incompetent.
So, you might ask [were you to be still reading], why would this latest viral fungui affect Marlins fans? How is it that they even exist? Loria is not MLB fandom bacteria’s first rodeo. Like Capt. McCluskey, bacteria have warded off hundreds of punk viral infections over the history of the game.
So Marlins fans, over the next few weeks, maybe even months, we will follow our team observing the law of reduced undulations. Defeats won’t sting as much and victories won’t be as much fun. But then something will happen which we can’t quite identify, something at the sub-molecular level. Maybe we’ll be at a party and checking the phone for updates, ‘hey, isn’t Fernandez pitching today?’ Or the next Stanton blast which goes viral, so to speak.
That’s when we’ll know. Deep down in a place we won’t talk about at that party. The return of our fandom bacteria will have played out yet again. Even the unworthiness of a Jeffrey Loria can’t keep a great game down. Eventually, fungoes always trump fungui.