Mariners Fear Boobs Will Interfere with Mediocrity

The Mariners' opposition to strip clubs is bullshit. Photo courtesy of gLo from the Seattlest Flickr pool.

The Mariners' decision to appeal a judge’s ruling allowing the regional-stripping powerhouse Déjà Vu franchise to open in the neighborhood reeks of the same family pandering of a few years back when they wouldn’t let you wear “Yankees Suck” T-shirts inside the stadium.*

Baseball and whores are just as equally American as adjustable rate mortgages and corn dogs. Let’s not deny this Mariners. Bitches been getting skanky long before you all started stringing mediocre seasons together.

There was a time when First Avenue had opium dens and brothels and the world didn’t come to an end. Stripper types in the neighborhood predate the evangelical Mariner establishment and their related ignorance demonstrates a sad detachment from the traditional neighborhood character.

The cross-section of lonely, middle-aged men and wasted 18-year-olds who frequent strip joints constitutes a healthy share of the M's business. Not everybody at the ballpark came sober in a minivan.

Besides baseball isn’t exactly a totally wholesome affair in itself, between the steroids on the field and the highway robbery at the concession stands ($7 MGD?--a travesty!) people are getting screwed left and right. The holier-than-thou M’s kind of smell like the Larry Craig’s of baseball.

Let the Mariners focus on buying brittle Canadian Erick Bedard a bionic arm to replace the flimsy limb we traded our future away for and let the time-honored art of shaking boobs worry about itself.

A hundred years from now the booty shacks will still be here. We can’t be so sure about the M’s.

*They later relented, sort of.