(from page 22)

The most egregious offenders of well-hidden performance enhancement are, ironically, the 1994 California Angels, playing in Anaheim. Under the management of George Knox, noted Danny Glover impersonator, the team used several angels (beings serving the Almighty God) to manipulate and bend the rules and plays of several games in their favor. One particularly outlandish example involved the foul post seemingly moving on its own accord so that a foul ball turned into a home run.

Sports fans and analysts spent weeks marveling at the supposed “luck” of that particular moment, but none realized that the team’s sudden and abrupt winning streak may have been the result of illegal tampering via the Angels’ involvement with several unlicensed, secretive “angels.” Investigators viewing game tapes can now see that these, and most likely hundreds of other unknown plays, were the products of illegal angel involvement.

Prior to this sudden influx of angel usage, the Angels’ record was a meager 10-52, which was followed by an unprecedented 100-game winning streak. As the season progressed, several large white feathers were found on the field by the grounds crew. In addition, the subtle glow of a halo would often be seen over a player’s head while he was at bat, followed by mighty home runs by players who had barely managed a successful bunt weeks prior. Also, Christopher Lloyd’s voice was heard often by crowd members, despite the fact that he had lost corporeal form years prior.

(from pages 47–48)

The first known case of illegally using a celestial being to sway the game in favor of certain players or teams was in 1939, and was perpetrated by a player known as Roy Hobbs, who played for the now defunct New York Knights. Hobbs reportedly struck out renowned hitter Walter “the Whammer” Whambold in three pitches at the age of 16. He was shot soon after by a crazed woman in a hotel, and disappeared from baseball for nearly two decades.

Upon his return, something was clearly awry about the once-promising man. Hobbs was a walk-on for the team that year, and, according to eyewitness reports, in his first batting practice he hit every single one of the 40 pitches out of the park. Then, upon his first at-bat in the major leagues, he literally hit the ball with such force that it peeled the skin off the ball. His batting average for the remainder of the season was a highly suspicious (yet nonetheless impressive) .868.

Though it was initially our belief that Roy Hobbs’s inconceivable talent was the result of illegal steroids, recent investigation has shown a far more sinister form of tampering: a bat given to him by the Almighty, albeit indirectly. The bat—commonly referred to as "Wonderboy"—was the only bat Hobbs used, up until his final at-bat, that is. The usage of “Wonderboy” was often accompanied by lightning or flashes of light, indicating some sort of spiritual interference. It is possible that Hobbs was unaware of this blatant heavenly tampering, but that remains to be seen.

(from page 89)

Though it lies outside the bounds of Major League Baseball’s authority, there exists a place in Iowa that could be extremely useful in helping to identify the sources and uses of angels and other celestial beings in our modern age. Ray Kinsella has a large baseball field in his cornfield. The tourist attraction—which began drawing increasingly large numbers in 1989—was apparently built solely by Kinsella after he heard “a voice.”

Fans and spectators have reported seeing the specters of deceased baseball players—including the infamous “Shoeless” Joe Jackson and relative unknowns such as Archibald “Moonlight” Graham—playing baseball in their former uniforms. Many of these spectators reported having no idea why they went to the location or how they knew where exactly to go. They would arrive at the field as innocent as children, longing for the past. The Kinsellas reportedly charged $20 per person, which fans would pay without even thinking about it: for it was money they had and peace they lacked. They would walk out to the bleachers and sit in shirtsleeves on a perfect afternoon. They would find they had reserved seats somewhere along one of the baselines, where they had sat and cheered their heroes when they were children. And they watched the game, and it was as if they had dipped themselves in magic waters.