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The Royce Clayton Conspiracy--
by Sox Fan Procol Harum of the WSI message board
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
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
"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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