A Conversation With The Commish

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THE COMMISH REACHES OUT TO HIS CONSTITUENTS IN HIS FIFTH ANNUAL LEAGUE PRIMER

ZERMATT (AP)—It is known in the world of journalism as the Matterhorn of interviews: the pilgrimage to the Alpine resort of Ben Barnes, Commissioner Extraordinaire of the WFBL, who once a year graciously pauses from polishing his championship trophies to entertain questions on a variety of subjects, principally WFBL and the upcoming season.

Writing these questions is essentially what journalists get paid to do. But these tight economic times have been hard on the journalism industry, so this year the AP asked Commissioner Barnes questions that were submitted by WFBL fans throughout the world, none of whom will be paid for doing the journalists' job.

The first question—at least, the first one on the pile here—comes from Billy M. of Rigby, Idaho, who writes: "Mr. Commissioner Sir, I think your basketball league is nifty! I'd sure like to be an all-powerful Commissioner when I grow up, just like you! Gee, that would be swell! What advice can you give to help me achieve my goal?"

COMMISH: Why thanks, Billy. While the goal of being just like me is a noble, if not unrealistic one, there one thing that you need to get started. Lots of money. Lots and lots and lots of money. So go get lots of money. That would be my advice to you.

The next question comes from—well, look at this, the entire state of Virginia: "Commissioner Barnes, are you real, or are you a fake? My friends at school say there is no Commissioner Barnes and the WFBL is a fantasy. My mother is evasive on the subject. But my father says that if you read something on the Internet, then it's so. PS: If you really are a fake, don't tell me. I don't want to know."

COMMISH: VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a WFBL. It exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Commissioner Barnes. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

No WFBL! Thank Goodness! it lives, and it lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, it will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Hugo C. of Caracas, Venezuela, sends his question on official letterhead of the Republic of Venezuela. Cool! He writes: "Salutations, Commissioner. I admire the tight grip you have on public opinion and your ability to quell dissension and opposing views. The media seems to express only praise. Wondering what your methods are? Do you find prison camps effective? How do you train your secret service spies? Perhaps we can discuss strategies during All-Star Week."

COMMISH: Huggy—if I may call you that—Huggy, it's like this. People respect who they fear. Every once in a while I'll send out threatening e-mails to owners and writers around the league to let them know there's no messing around with the Commish. Let me answer your final two questions at once. Prison camps are an effective place to train secret service spies. We'll talk later on this.










This next one is a little hard to read. It appears to be written in blood on—what is this? Alligator skin? Let's see if I can make it out: "Die, Abominables! Die! Regards, R. Youtz, Twin Falls, ID."

COMMISH: Oh that's nothing to be worried about. That's just an inside joke from an old friend of mine, who's just a little upset ever since I told him his band couldn't play at the All-Star festivities this year. And besides, he's not saying "Die, Abominables! Die! That's German for "The, Abominables! The!" He's just reaching out to the German-speaking A-Bom fans.

Our next question comes from Mahonri M. of the Land of Nephi. He writes: "Behold, I direct mine epistle to the Commissioner, for I have somewhat to say unto him at this, the commencement of the fifth year of the reign of the WFBL. Behold, I desire to know what manner of rejoicings and celebrations will come to pass in this year that the people may remember the history of this great league. Yea, thou knowest that an hundredth part of this history cannot be contained on one Web site. Nevertheless, I fear lest the people will forget what great things the WFBL has done. Behold, I close mine epistle."

COMMISH: Very good question. We plan on doing numerous things to celebrate the fifth season of WFBL. Besides our official fifth-anniversary league logo, the "Original Four" franchises will don commemorative patches as well. And be on the lookout for weekly tributes to classic WFBL moments. For we all know that if we cannot celebrate our past, we are doomed to...wait...how's the saying go?

Kanye W. of St. George, Utah, writes: "Commish, I got nothin' but super respect for all the advancements y'all got goin' in y'all's league. Mad praise an' blessings for reachin' out to new hemispheres an' all that. But the All-Star game in Venezuela? VenezWAYluh? Man, when are y'all gonna give props to St. George and send the party down to Dixie, y'know what I'm sayin'? Or is their skin the wrong color for y'all? Whatever. I'm out. To the W to the F to the B to the L, baby."

COMMISH: Yo Kanyeezee, much love playa. You know I got nuttin but respect for the dirty south, and that's for real. But check it: thing is, Venezueelee be mo' dirty and mo' south, and you can't hate on that, know what I'm sayin'? Ain't no party like a latin party, cuz a latin party don't stop! Maybe you keep to reppin' the S to the T to the Jorge, and we'll keep doin' how we do, aight?

R. Belding of Bayside, CA wants to know: "Will there be an Old-Timey Week this year? I really dig those vintage threads. I mean, I'm as hip as they come, dude, but deep down I'm old school, you know? Besides, I've discovered that it's actually MORE hip to wear dorky stuff in some circumstances."

COMMISH: Mr. Belding, you couldn't be more right. And in Week 5 this year, the entire WFBL will be at their dorkiest. That's when each team will be throwing back to various eras in their history. And don't worry, official WFBL Old-Timey Week merchandise will be available for you to own, so you can be the hippest principal in the whole valley!

Here's one from Kasam A. of Udorn, Thailand: "Greetings, O Vaunted Commissioner. It is an utmost honor to direct my humble words to you. Thank you for brightening our dreary existence with American sport. Someone in our village just traded his last water buffalo for a computer, allowing us to follow our beloved Jai-Rai on the magical Internet. Please discuss the league's exciting Web site and the mystical features it has. I am greatly anticipating the mighty Jai-Rai kicking everyone's backside this year. Well, that is all. A monsoon approaches, and I must harvest my rice field so that I can prepare a meager meal for my large family one last time before I sell my land to purchase a Jai-Rai windbreaker! Farewell."

COMMISH: A good purchase, no doubts there. Those windbreakers come in official team colors, too! As for the Web site, we saw the move to a blog-based format last year to be a great decision by the league. Therefore this season we'll be bringing you everything you loved about last season's site, but recolored. Not only will you still have the ability to comment after each article, vote on who will win the Game of the Week, and help decide the weekly EBP, but we've added a search function and the ability to find articles based on labels given to each post. We've truly come a long way in five years.

We got several letters about WFBL merchandise. This one from Nikolas Kauffmann, from Norwich, CT via Zermatt, Switzerland, is typical: "I am a frequenter of the WFBL store, where I buy all the Abominables clothing and mouse pads. They are my favorite team. But my hunger is not satisfied. I must have more! Would you consider manufacturing Abominables bathroom products, such as body wash, shampoo, and bath towels? When I take a shower, I sometimes have to remove my Abominables clothing (unless it's really cold out), but that is very hard for me to do, emotionally. The result is that I haven't been taking showers. Making Abominables bathroom products would really help. Thank you."

COMMISH: Nikolas, you are an inspiration to us all. If every fan of every WFBL team could follow the model you've set, I'd be so filthy rich that I wouldn't have to toil every day to run this infernal league. Having said that, I'll offer you something better than officially licensed bathroom products—full-body WFBL team tattoos. Now you don't have to worry about someone seeing you without your team gear and then incorrectly assuming you don't have a favorite WFBL team! The full-body tattoos are a permanent way of letting your friends, your wife—even complete strangers—know that you're a #1 WFBL fan!

Next we have a letter, written in crayon, from Joey D. of Brooklyn, New York: "Dear Commissioner, I have a problem. My mother says I spend too much time watching New York Kings games, and I keep getting in trouble at school for checking the WFBL site on my iPhone while I'm supposed to be making leaf rubbings and memorizing state capitals. I love my mother, and I know education is important, but I can't justify putting either of them before my Kings. What can I do?"

COMMISH: Little Joey, the WFBL knows how you feel. Sometimes even the great Commissioner gets nagged by those he lives with that he spends too much time on the WFBL Web site. Can you imagine? Your mother obviously means well, and leaf rubbings and state capitals are important to becoming a contributing member of society. But maybe she just doesn't understand how there's book smarts, and then there's basketball smarts. How else are you going to learn important life lessons such as how rankings are an extremely important way to measure success? How being flashy and scoring a lot of points doesn't always equate to weekly victories. And most important of all, that sometimes, no matter how hard you try, the Abominables will always be better than you.

Here's one from Ted B. of Salt Lake City, Utah: "Hello, I am an objective observer of your league. I do not own any of the teams, and I have no rooting interest whatsoever. That said, I want you to know that the Salt Lake SnowBees appear to be the class of the league. Their capable owner, in particular, is a cut above. Kudos to him. I look forward to seeing the SnowBees eat everyone's lunch this year."

COMMISH: Ted. B., please refer to the last line of advice given to Joey D.

Our final letter is this one from R. Redford of Park City, Utah: "Commish, I don't have any questions. I just wanted to send you this autographed picture of me. By the way, we need to do lunch sometime and talk about the possibilities of your league making a $1.4 million donation to keep my film festival afloat. But we can discuss that after my Sundancers manhandle your Abominables and keep those Oaken Skis of Yore where they belong. Ciao."

COMMISH: Bob, we better talk about that now, because those skis are longing for their rightful place on my mantle, next to my three Commissioner Barnes trophies. Perhaps we can make things interesting? If your Sundancers beat my Abominables, you get the $1.4 million. If (when) my Abominables beat your 'Dancers, you finance my movie—a rags-to-riches, coming of age film about a fledgling league led by its fearless Commissioner, who wins back-to-back-to-back championships while at the same time teaching everyone what it means to win the biggest game of all: the game of life.