Major League Baseball’s “Players Weekend” and the accompanying nickname jerseys that came with it was a deplorable mess.

So I know it has been a while — some would say I took the summer off from my incessant complaining and kvetching. One might even be crazy enough to think that old Mr. Bones actually found some sort of happy place.

Perhaps I did, but one thing that has been really bugging me is back for another fun-filled weekend: nicknames on MLB jerseys.

The whole nightmare started in July. At the time, I assumed it was a “one weekend a year” type of thing. But lo and behold, here we are yet again being subjected to another round of ironic defaming of the once untouchable MLB laundry. Simply put, baseball uniforms — above any other sport — are timeless sacred spaces. We all know that the best uniforms don’t even have players’ names on them, never mind nicknames like “Brock Star” or “Toddfather.”

Then there are the nicknames like the one Albert Pujols chose to go with: The Machine.

The Machine? Is he a washed up DH or looking to start a new career in the adult entertainment industry? Or maybe a horrible and very brief WWE stint is on the way?

The whole thing is just dumb. David Price even used the back of his uniform (when he wasn’t on the disabled list) to continue a pointless feud with a local sports radio DJ. And if Bartolo Colon of all people can’t make this gimmick fun, then this must be stopped.

Sad!

To be fair, I do like the idea of players being able to show their personality and creativity with their cleats.

I have zero problem with that and my counterpart wrote up a nice piece about Kris Bryant using the cleat customization trend to promote a great cause. But there is a huge difference between altering a cleat versus butchering a jersey. Players can wear clown shoes or sneaker slippers for all I care — and some probably do — but don’t start messing with the Yankee pinstripes (and this is coming from a Red Sox fan).

What really scares me though is the bigger picture in that these type of shenanigans often become a slippery slope. The NBA is about to allow logos on uniforms. The next thing we know players are going to be slapping their favorite #hashtags on their sleeves. Or possibly their faces. Who the hell knows, because as I said, it’s a slippery slope.

While it was clearly MLB’s attempt to appeal to younger fans — hey, look at us, we’re fun and stuff! — I’m at the point where I’m just hoping Chris Sales goes Freddy Krueger on this whole damn thing and puts it to sleep.

Anyway, thanks to a fairly wet August here in the Northeast, my lawn is looking pretty green. All the more reason to GET OFF MY LAWN.



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