Prince Pappas

Every other boy born in Baltimore, Maryland between the summer of 1955 and Christmas 1956 was sired by Milt Pappas. Though both the New York Times and Baltimore Sun chose to highlight his career pitching in major league baseball in his obituary, ignoring his amazing feat of  propagation, the Baltimore chapter of the Sons of Milt has finally voted to acknowledge and honor their father who is already in two halls of fame.

Milt was born the seven thousand four hundred and second son of “Poppy” Pappas who singlehandedly repopulated Greece and Macedonia as the Second World War drew to a close.

Of his quarter to a half million siblings only Milt and perhaps a dozen others were known to carry the fire seed. The much less occurring daughters- Milt’s half sisters- bore on average just under sixteen babies each. “He fucks like the Bible,” was by far the most popular answer as to his universal promiscuity.

Milt’s third career as a Minnesota minority singing sensation continued through his faux infection and autopsy. “He looked much younger and a hell of a lot shorter as an African American,” said Boog Powell, the Hall of Fame first basemen for the Baltimore Orioles who played with Milt in the 60’s and stayed in touch after Papas was traded to Cincinnati. “He never spoke of his transracial choice but had such success as a singer/songwriter/clotheshorse that the Twin Cities adopted him even though he shut out their baseball team in numerous match ups.”

When Boog was asked about Milt’s Uber Pater past, Boog just shook his head. “I played with studs who had a different woman waiting for them after every game but Milt had one scratching for him after every inning. If he wasn’t at bat he was hitting home runs.”

“If he knocked up half as many women after People magazine came out he would have been hit with a class action paternity suit bigger than what Big Tobacco faced. I showered with the guy. His balls were bigger than oranges. And he went to the Block and got that love symbol tattooed on his butt in 1964.”

Sportswriters and music critics alike adored Prince Milt and many to this day consider him a credit to both races. “I don’t know whether I liked him better on the mound with his control pitching or strumming his guitar to Purple Rain.” said President Obama. “He has to be the greatest double threat in rhythm and baseball the world has ever seen and the world is poorer for his loss.”

Don Arrup

Satire1