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The Royce Clayton Conspiracy--

REVEALED!

I'm glad to see somebody is finally shining light on the truth behind Royce Clayton's real career statistics. Allow me to share how I came to know the truth behind this vast conspiracy.

You see, I too have visited the remote "secret" base in Area 57 in the Nevada desert where the United States Air Force has kept Royce's accomplishments hidden in a special concrete-reinforced bunker. My tour guide, Major General Norbert "Bulldog" Wingate let me browse through the incredible collection of artifacts and memorabilia--his legendary bat "Thunder," the myriad MVP trophies, silver bats, and championship rings--the Nobel Prize, the Congressional Medal of Honor, yes, it was all there. I spent hours in the media room watching how The Choice had personally led first the Giants, then the Cardinals, and then the Rangers to World Series glory. I marveled at his .999 fielding percentage, the 28 unassisted triple plays, his 9 home runs in the '97 Fall Classic.

Turning to General Wingate I asked "How is it possible that all of this information could have been sequestered from public view?" Wingate chuckled "Yeah, I used to be one of those who thought that Toronto had actually won the '93 Series," he shook his head and ground out a cigarette on the expensive master board in the control room "But, that was before I was cleared to see all this" he said, waving his arms at the expanse of repressed Claytonia surrounding us on every side. "But" I pressed, "How is it possible?" 

"Easy, the wonders of computer and video manipulation have opened up a world of ways to hoodwink the sporting public of the United States. See here, Brackett!" He turned to the sergeant to his right. "Fire up the All-Star editing tape from 2000."

The sergeant dutifully inserted a video tape in a bank of machines to his right. "Watch this" Wingate said, nodding toward the giant overhead screen. "This is kind of a 'how-to' tape we've prepared for visiting dignitaries." On the screen I saw the Fox feed of the All-Star game and the introduction of the American League's starting line-up. Imagine my surprise as Royce Clayton was trotted out to a thunderous ovation, proudly wearing the colors of the Texas Rangers as the Junior Circuit's starting shortstop. "W-w-w-wait, a second" I stammered, "I could have sworn Derek Jeter was the starting shortstop last year" Wingate laughed as he lit another cigarette, "Yeah, keep watchin'!" The tape froze; step-by-step I then saw how the insidious process of digital computer video editing first erased the lettering from Royce's jersey, replacing it with the infamous Bronx Bombers' "NY." Then, I watched, transfixed, as the same process was repeated with Clayton's cap. The process continued until a digitally-altered image of the Choice dominated the proceedings, clad in an ersatz cloak of pixelated Derek Jeter bits. As the screen blinked to gray we all sat in silence. "This is incredible, nobody would believe me if I told them."

Wingate nodded, with that certain world-weariness of the man who has seen a lot during his lifetime "Nope, and that's the idea. Goebbels said if you're gonna lie, tell a big one and that's what we've done--re-arranged the entire landscape of America's pastime. If it wasn't a case of computer alteration it was something else; hell--the last 8 World Series have been filmed in a secret sound stage on another part of this base."

I felt a sudden burning in my cheeks, aghast at the immensity of what was unfolding before me. "But why??? Why was this done?" I cried, my voice breaking under the strain of this awful knowledge. 

Wingate looked me dead in the eye "Are you kidding? What do you think the Red Chinese would do if they knew the Choice was this good? He's our ace in the hole in more ways than one--don't even think for a moment that what you've seen is the whole story. I can't tell you everything, but let's just say that baseball is his hobby." 

I tried to drink in the enormity of what I had just been told.  "How many people really know.... the truth?" Wingate sat back in his chair and exhaled a cloud of smoke ceiling-ward "Well, obviously very few--but anybody who's anybody--like you" he smiled "are in on the secret--the Cabinet, the Supreme Court, Congress, top business men--Gates, Murdoch, the Fortune 500 CEO's, the Rothschilds--ya know--all the usual Illuminati types." He snuffed out another cigarette, "Oh yeah, and a lot of the media bigwigs, too--Rush, Dr. Laura, Larry King, Bono, Priscilla Presley, Gary Coleman--they're all in on it and help us maintain the illusion." 

"Aren't you worried that this would leak out?" Wingate grew dead serious and locked my eyes with his "They're all patriotic Americans--well, except for Murdoch--and Bono-- and..uh, well they're all good citizens of this planet." He paused with a pregnant silence dwelling on the importance of that last word "besides, we know where they live." Wingate rose in his chair, a clear signal that my tour was over. I thanked him for his time and for the insight. "Keep all this in mind the next time you "see" Royce Clayton hit a feeble pop-up with men in scoring position for the White Sox." I smiled and shook his hand, and was ushered out by two security officers.

I have maintained silence for the several weeks since this event, but now that the word is out-- you go, boy!  Shout the truth from the mountaintops!!

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