I can imagine a Stan Freberg comedy routine:
"Uh, it's late, Chuck. The big shots are after me for that list. We forgot to assigned these two meatballs to a team."
"We did, huh? Uh, who ARE they, Howard? DOO-dah? (De Camptown Races suddenly breaks in and quickly fades out.) And Neck-Check? We gotta put 'em SOME place, and Gladys is expecting me home for dinner AFTER I stop for a brewski on the way."
"A BREWSKI, now ya talkin' ya big lug. So what teams do we have left that we can stick 'em on?"
"Well there's the team in Seattle that NO-body remembers anyway. The last time they won anything the Cold War was heating up! Get that, Chuck?! That's a GOOD one! COLD war...HEATING up!
"Yeah, yeah, now let's cut the small talk and get down ta bizness! You're right, though. That team in Seattle, what's their name again? Oh yeah, the Marinaras. Something to do with spaghetti sauce, I guess. Anyway, we got the Mariners here, who haven't done squat in fifteen years. Do ya think ANYONE will believe that someone wants to sign with THEM?!"
"Hokay, ya got a POINT there. But if you let your hair grow no one will notice! Will anyone believe someone wants to sign with the Seattle Marinas? I dunno, Chuck. It's just wild ENOUGH that SOMEBODY might buy it."
"Right, Howard. Let's get our story straight. We burned the midnight oil, ya know, churning through piles and PILES of information, statistics, rumors, team analysis, the whole nine yards."
"We interviewed dozens of GM's."
"Even the one in Seattle?"
"No need to go THAT far. NO one will believe we went out of our way to call...to call...how do you pronounce that? DIP-a-toe? Like when you test the water in the pool before stepping in to see if it's too hot or too cold?"
"No, it's die-PO-to. Like he's gonna kick the bucket a pauper or something."
"Who cares? Anyway, no one will believe we talked to him about his plans. After all, they're ir-REV-er-ant."
"You BET they are."
"So we did our due diligence, and decided that these two meatballs will end up in the Marinara sauce. Presto! Just like THAT!"
"That's our story, and we's stickin' WITH it!
"So where ya stoppin' for a brewski?"
"Some place called Steinbrenner's. That place is con-NEC-ted."
"Connected to WHAT?"
"You don't wanna know."
(Cue band extravaganza, "Marinara, Mariachis, Marianas" as an exit)