FROM THE DESK OF DON MOTHER****IN' GARBER
Dianne Feinstein and Patty Murray
Washington, DC 20510
October 6, 2016
Dear Pat & Di,
I am in receipt of your letter of October 5, wherein you put your noses in my goddam business. Congratulations on solving every other goddam problem in the country, by the way. I hadn't previously realized we live in goddam Utopia.
Let's get this straight. I give your hippie commune states both Clint Dempsey and Landon Donovan, and this is the thanks I get? Muppet News Flash - I don't run the women's national team. I don't pay the women's national team. And I don't promote any of the women's national team games anybody gives one goddam crap about. I'm stuck promoting the Sendoff Tour and the Victory Tour and whatever goddam friendly against Thailand we're charging $50 a pop for. And oh by the way, those players should thank me for giving them an excuse to pad their stats and skip out on their NWSL games.
Hell, if you're going to be conductors on the Equal Pay Express, why don't you look into the NWSL? Even I think those women are underpaid, and when I saw "Grapes of Wrath" I booed Henry Fonda. Of course, if you do look into the NWSL pay discrepancy, you'll find that the contract inequities there are courtesy of the same women's national team players you're stanning for.
Turns out that the women's national team collectively bargains their contracts. Which means, whether or not the Men's Ninja Turtles getting more money might be a problem, it sure as Shinola ain't my problem. If the players don't like it, they can make like bowling balls and strike. There are, according to the latest estimates from the Congressional Office of Management and Budget, a metric spitload of labor strikes in your own damn states right this second. So unless you're sending these same damn letters on behalf of janitors, longshoremen and supermarket workers who actually have the tubes to go on strike, maybe you should, in the words of Aristotle, check yourself before you wreck yourself. If Megan Rapinoe can take a knee for police brutality, then the rest of the team can take a walk for their own rights.
If you want my team of lawyers to make their boat payments on the taxpayer dime, that's your call. Needless to say, I'll be providing the figures you request after a Supreme Court order enforced by US marshals at gunpoint, and not one goddam second before.
But if and when I do, you might end up noticing that the women don't, yet, have the same kind of sponsorship juice as players bedewed with Y chromosomes. You want me to say that's a crying shame, I'll chop some onions.
Just between you, me and the deep blue sea, it ain't the women subsidizing the men. It ain't even the men subsidizing the women. We got the Mexican national team subsidizing American national teams. The last guy to get this good a deal out of Mexico was James K. Polk, so tell the women's national team not to screw this up for me or there will be hell to pay. And it doesn't sound like they can afford it.
If they want more revenue, maybe they shouldn't goddam job out in the second round of the goddam Olympics. Or, maybe they should write better books. Between Solo, Carli and Wombat, you can't swing a dead pig at Half Price Books without knocking over a stack of "Me, Glorious Me" or "Four and a Half Years of Struggle Against Lies, Stupidity and Cowardice" or "I Couldn't Beat Marta But At Least I Could Beat A Drug Test."
Your obedient servant,
Donald Middle Initial Garber
King of Kickball
Dictator But Not Read
Enclosure: a bag of sand, suitable for pounding
cc: Someone who gives a rat's ass