Saw my first game at Dunkin field tonight. Sentimentality aside the layout is much better than Shea's. Anyone capable of paying admission can expect an unobstructed view of every advertisement in the place.
True, the first grand slam in the field's history did not land anywhere near the Dunkin Donuts ad in center field. It was not in that respect perfect. However, when you looked by sheer instinct in the general direction of that ad, it did glow a little brighter. The mystery of the missing g in the verb seemed more pronounced, more pressing than ever. Was it meant to be colloquial and therefore familiar? Psst. The rules of grammar don't apply here, you're safe, friend.
And then you realized that the g stood for grand slam. Like inserting the jewel into the pagan statue that brings it to life. And we stood in amazement and roared as one breathing intellectual mass, thousands strong, potent in the Queens night.
In the glow of that slam I was struck by a marketing concept. Out of loving trust I share it here without fear of breach of patent: Edible adult diapers. Possible promotional giveaway should ticket sales lag. Endorsement opportunities from veteran players. Able substitute for Pepsi T-shirt launch.
Primary note in favor is novelty. For the man who has everything (and uses adult diapers). Perfect as a gag gift. Or as a deadly serious one. Possible spokesperson: Mr. Met; whose heretofore shadowy personality could be explored in a sequence of emotionally vulnerable radio spots, ala the Boston Medical Group. 90 is the new 69.
Cons: saddest gag gift ever. Health risks/possible liability. The difficulty of establishing a material that is both edible and leak proof.
Americans are resilient, creative, and entrepreneurial; nothing during the last two years has erased any of that. We will resolve this challenge as one.
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