The Potomac Conspiracy

With the news that Stephen Strasburg is off to Harrisburg, there are probably a few suckers who are feeling sorry for themselves.  Trading off of Strassy's good name, the P-Nats marketed some open-ended ticket vouchers as a Strasburg season-ticket plan.  Give ol' Uncle Arty some of your money, and he'd send you some ducats you could use at his Woodbridge pleasure palace.

But alas.  It's not to be.  Both he and Mr. Storen are off to the city best known for its nuclear meltdown, Harrisburg.  They're set to play on a park in an island, free to fend for themselves against armies of seagulls, mosquitoes and the worst kind of pest: the loser autograph seekers.

So why Harrisburg?  Why not Potomac?  Well, besides the fact that the idea of Strasburg pitching in the Carolina league brings visions of Gibson '68 to ones mind?

I, for one, think it's a conspiracy.  The Nats didn't want to embarrass themselves and wanted to preserve their gate.

Had they sent King Strasburg to Woodbridge, it would've meant a massive emigration from Nats Park on days he pitched.  Sure, for every SBF who already has purchased his 14 tickets, there's an ice-hearted jerk like me who only buys $5 walkups and $8 chili nachos -- money that'd be heading down to Woodbridge with me, instead of being spent in the home of giant, generic pre-cast concrete walls.

With every Strassburg start in Potomac, that's less money for Uncle Teddy and the gang.  And with the way ticket sales have gone (they haven't googled me!), it's all likely the 6,000 sitting in the rusty metal bleachers in Potomac would outnumber the 400 disinterested souls watching Matty Chico take another one for the team.

So they save money AND they save face.  

Makes perfect sense, right?  {dons tin foil hat}