It’s Season 12, Day 37, and the Houston Spies are up against the Tokyo Lift. Wyatt Quitter, ILB underdog and alumnus of the Unlimited Tacos, steps up to bat. Quitter has had a number of notable roles in Blaseball beforehand, despite not being considered a heavy hitter; one of those was on THE SHELLED ONE’S PODS. A shadow we did not expect descended on the League that day.
For those new to the splort of Blaseball, THE SHELLED ONE was our primary antagonist during the Discipline Era, running from Seasons Two to Ten. Appearing in the form of a giant, rotating Peanut, the hypercapitalist deity sought to harness the Fans as a collective source for tributes in the form of the first Concession, Peanuts, meant to be given to its chosen idols in the League: Peanutiel Duffy, Peanut Bong, and Peanut Holloway. (They were not originally Peanuts.) THE SHELLED ONE’s mark was felt across the League, as it appeared season after season to taunt us for not accomplishing the tasks set out, as we, together, puzzled the mysteries it brought forward.
For every mistake we made, idols were encased in Peanuts. Purposeful, vengeful, terrifying. Unable to participate, yet forced to play, it came for our favorites first: Jessica Telephone, Nagomi McDaniel, York Silk. Peanuts would then fall from the sky, randomly encasing any that fate wished to trap. Season after season, they were imprisoned, with some small amount of hope in the eye of hungry birds, who, on the off-chance, would peck the shell clean—but more often saw fit to squawk and squabble with the players running blases. At the end of it all, on Day X, they were transformed into a team of puppets that struck terror into the hearts of champions.
I cannot emphasize to you the horror I felt when THE SHELLED ONE’S PODS descended on the Baltimore Crabs in Season Ten. Despite their coming ascension, legendary status, and the full force of the industrial blessing machine of the Crabitat, they were destroyed in one hit.
That Single was struck by Wyatt Quitter.
While today we play among the carcasses of the past, and the ILB continues to emphasize the Peanut’s death, remains of THE SHELLED ONE still roll on fields to haunt us. Trauma is a tricky thing. Anything can trigger it, and we can find ghosts haunting us still in the least likely places—the traces of honey and salt that linger on the field remind us of trials past. There is a vicious shadow over the league as it stands, and despite our perceived prosperity, gods will stand on the dead shoulders of gods and continue to harm and oppress us.
Reader, I ask you to consider what we look upon when there is an announcement to be made, a “what” to be tweeted, or a snack to be bought. Why Concessions? Why Peanuts? In the wake of our healing, our peace, tragedy reopens old wounds; as three players are currently SHELLED still, and many others are finding allergic reactions to what is meant to be dead, to be gone, what remains in the iconography used to represent our growing capacity to engage in the League? Why does The Boss let the corpses reside?
New gods, same throne.
Thank you to Fancy (@Fancymancer on Twitter) for allowing us to use the art of Wyatt Quitter, and thank you to Astrid Reblase (@AReblase on Twitter) for developing Reblase for our reference.