Don’t tell my employer this, but I hate my job.[i] I’m underpaid, unchallenged and under-appreciated. I am the real world’s version of Ryan Howard, circa 2004: supremely talented and blocked by shortsighted management, wasting away in the minor leagues. My dream has always been to work in Major League Baseball, and for a long time, I gave that dream a real shot. Alas, here we are.

In any case, as I slog through another year in Triple A, I started taking a look at the front offices of many major league teams and began assessing my options. Here are a few positions I had questions about:

“Mental Skills Coordinator” (Cubs): In my mind, this job entails creating t-shirts with witty slogans on them. So this person in essence does the mock-up for the t-shirt, then sends the order to Custom Ink. When the “Life’s a Garden, Dig It” batch comes through, baseball writers get the vapors thinking about hipster manager and how he mentally prepares his players. I can do this!

“Physician Emeritus” (Blue Jays): Whenever I hear the word “emeritus” thrown around, I picture an old white guy wearing a $1,000 suit with blow-dried hair and a nice tan. Add in “physician” before that and you just KNOW “Hoyt” is not driving himself around greater-Toronto in a beat-up Civic. The goal in life for me is to be “emeritus” something… I’ll show myself out.

“Director, Royals Hall of Fame” (Royals): I didn’t know this, but there are more than 20 people in the Royals Hall of Fame! But seriously, how hard could this job be? Call up a few ex-players and organize a party once a year:

Hall of Fame Director: “Hey, Jeff Montgomery, thinking this might finally be the year we recognize Bob Hamelin. Are you free the weekend of July 16^th?”

Jeff Montgomery: “The Hammer? Well, I guess… what’s the bar situation and who’s in my foursome for the golf tournament? Don’t stick me with George Brett — he got way hammered last year.”

“Plumber” (Reds): All I can picture is Jumbo Diaz leaving behind an excrement befitting his stature and Bryan Price calling up a guy named “Bud” and saying, “Hey Bud, Jumbo clogged the can again. Can you get down here before the game ends? Kinda stinks. Thanks, boss.” I’ve heard being a plumber is a great job and it pays well. Unfortunately, I’d have to go back to school for that and if I take out any more student loans, they’d have to be from a guy named “Rocco” and instead of “interest,” I’d pay “juice.”

“Director, Business Intelligence” (Phillies): For some reason this position is listed under “Finance” on the website. Where was this guy or gal when the Phillies re-signed Carlos Ruiz? Given my aforementioned student loan situation, it’s readily apparent I lack any substantive “business intelligence.”

“Equipment Manager” (Nationals): I love sporting goods and uniforms, so this would be an ideal position for me. The problem is I probably can’t take direction from players about what kind of cleats they want to wear. I also would refuse to order any of the “pajama pants” players prefer these days. You can have the Clemson cut or GTFO.

“Special [anything]” (Everyone): Another benefit of being an ex-player. Come to a couple games, schmooze with the rich season ticket holders, sign some memorabilia and try not to get too loaded. They should just call this “Jock Emeritus.”

Well, this has been a somewhat encouraging exercise. MLB teams, if you’re looking for a guy who isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty (literally) and knows how to throw one hell of a party, I’m your man!

(No, but seriously, if you have anything, please email the site.  My resume is ready and I’m eligible to work in this country).

[i] As you can probably guess, I have a day job outside of writing for The Spitter. Although I like to think I’m really good at this, no one is willing to pay me (enough) to do it… yet.