Oh, Mr. Heinz. What hath God wrought?
Just a short time ago, you were living on easy street. You were the toast of the town. You were the perfect schmear of ketchup on a juicy cheeseburger: not too thick, not too thin, not too much, not too little, getting soaked up just enough by the bun.
You were a World Series champion, a local hero, and a respected Voice of the Game. You were an ambitious entrepreneur, launching your video game company 38 studios amid a dreamcloud of grand plans and breathless excitement. You seemed poised for a Senate run.
Times have changed.
Now, Mr. Heinz, you’re more like stale, runny, off-brand catsup that’s been sitting out in the sun all day at a family reunion picnic. Not even Hunt’s…like off- off-brand.
38 Studios, which took a loan in excess of $100 million from the state of Rhode Island to locate there, is floundering. You can’t make payroll. You’re defaulting on loan payments. And you want even more money from the government to stay solvent. This despite your well-publicized stand against government handouts in general and stimulus bailouts in particular.
Fuck, and we were so looking forward to your new game.
And sorry, Rhode Island, but this one’s on you. I like your state and all. The tennis hall of fame is very nice. The Breakers? Lovely. But you relied on one of the most disingenuous human beings of our time to help spark an economic turnaround. What did you expect? You shelled out a $100 million job-creation loan to an egomaniac with no experience in the industry he now worked in. Now, you won’t see a penny of that money back, the jobs that were created (far less than promised) are ending, and Ol’ Schilly is back on your doorstep, hat in hand.
Mr. Heinz will have his revenge on Providence.