When news of the Marlins' devastating trades of many of its best players to the Toronto Blue Jays broke yesterday, the city's sports fans had a collective aneurism. And for good reason. After all, we did build the team a brand new $515 million ballpark this year -- a park that'll likely see few fans and fewer wins in 2013 now that owner Jeffrey Loria has essentially cashed in his chips and gone home.
But the truth is, recent moves by the Marlins affect all Miamians, not just its sports fans. This team, after all, has been responsible for some of the most dramatic shows, the most talked-about art, and the most flashy (if puzzling) performance art in town.
Here are just a few of the ways Miami culture will suffer in the aftermath of Loria's SalaryDumpocalypse.
Let's just get the Red Grooms "Tremenda Mierda Fountain" issue out of the way first, because you know it's coming. Yes, it's hideous. Yes, it's bafflingly large. But it's still art, goddammit, and this is still a town where we celebrate that shit, especially when there are drinks involved. Without a team capable of hitting baseballs into home run territory, that neon sculptural trainwreck won't be used to its full, splashing, spinning, dolphin-jumping potential. Unacceptable.
Showtime's first attempt to chronicle the Marlins in the show The Franchise, uh, didn't work out so well. But as several Twitter users pointed out last night, The Franchise, Miami Marlins 2: Who Are Any of These Guys Anyway would actually be pretty fun to watch. Award-winning, even. As some dude named Rick said, "I'd nominate #Marlins the franchise show the award in the #tragedy category."
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Let's not forget the move the Marlins made just a few short weeks ago: firing Ozzie Guillen. This alone was cause for a cultural outcry in Miami. The man is, after all, dramatic theater at its finest. When he's not composing brilliantly eloquent dialogue with a real avant-garde sense for punctuation, he's starring in his own political telenovela regarding relations with Miami's Cuban population. The man was born for the stage, folks. And now he's gone.
Some called Logan Morrison's bubble bath with fellow teammate Bryan Petersen a silly photo op. We call it highbrow performance art challenging society's strict gender roles and addressing the meaning of cleanliness in these modern, tweetable times. LoMo and Petersen are still Miami Marlins (for now). And LoMo's even threatening to revive their act. But without half the damn team, who's going to be there to capture their next Instagram masterpiece? As the saying goes, if two men bathe naked in a forest, but nobody sees it, then fuck you Jeffrey Loria.