Candy, I can't believe you're forcing me to argue against Santa Claus on Christmas. That's just wrong.
But if it's Scrooge I must be, here are some loose threads in that famous red suit.
I know you all are expecting me to go the weight route. And really, I could point out that the Orioles have a checkered history with hefty hurlers, from El Sid to Sir Sidney. But as a portly fellow myself, I'm going to hover above that low road.
I'm more worried about age. The Orioles have declared a youth movement, and we have to respect the mission by eschewing a chap with a white beard and a nose weathered by too many years on the sleigh.
Also, Santa strikes me as the sort who built his gaudy record on the backs of others. Does Santa really hit every house without the elves or the reindeer? I say no, and that means Orioles millions must go elsewhere.
Here's my plan.
First, sign Baby New Year. He's an infant, sure, but that means no bidding war based on past performance. This team is all about hope and possibility. What symbolizes that better than a baby and a turn of the calendar?
Then, when spring rolls around, swoop in and ink the Easter Bunny. He might be a little chunky from all those malted eggs, but at a base level he comes from an athletic species of runners and jumpers. And again, he's all about renewal.
For too long, the Orioles have spent money on past performance rather than future promise. You say Santa is all charm and magic in the clutch. I say he's a faded star who built his legacy on the backs of others. No contract for Claus!