Let me kick this off by saying that I love Frank Thomas. I love that he went into the Hall of Fame and named every one of his teammates. I love all the dingers I watched him hit as a young Sox fan. I love all the scandalous tales I hear about his off the field exploits. I love that he played college football. I love that he was sweating like a whore in church when his statue was presented, because they made him wear a suit on a 105 degree day. I love pretty much everything about Frank, except one thing. Frank Thomas the entrepreneur.
Now I get it, if you have money, people will constantly come at you with insane ideas that they’d like you to fund. And I’ll give Frank the benefit of the doubt and assume that’s what is at play here. Whether it be the ridiculous record label he started. The song about “hit me on my pager” has aged very well. Or his beer that most people compared to either malt liquor or Icehouse. Two Chorizy-E faves, but definitely not for the masses. Or his restaurants, which as you may have heard, had the last one close its doors earlier this month.
When this closed, you saw a number of people on social media jump to Frank with the next business venture he should get involved with. All fabulous ideas, I am sure. However, maybe let’s not have Frank sink any more money into a business. Maybe, just maybe, let’s have Frank do some other things that can still be fun for everyone, but can line his pockets a bit.
First up, he should take a Shaq-esque approach to commercials. We all love the boner pill one he’s got on the air right now, so why not keep the ball rolling. Take over whatever bull shit commercials would go to Eddie and Jobo. Wherever there is going to be a local spot featuring Steve Harvey, switch that to Frank. Whenever you’re gonna have a gross looking 900 yr old former athlete or coach pushing wine at Binny’s, get the Big Hurt instead.
Next, we need some special appearances. Obviously these are paid appearances. To think of a few options. Take Big Frank over to Grandstand when it’s fully stocked and we’ll play a game of how many aisles Frank can actually squeeze through. Bring him to a tailgate to bust fluorescent light bulbs over the heads of Sox Mafia. Get him over to The BallPark Pub to bet on which commercial will be next with the Second City Sports guys. And most definitely get him to Baderbrau for the next wrestling event and have him body slam Ronnie Woo Woo.
And if none of that tickles his fancy, and he wants to keep burning cash, he can partner with us and open the 108 Lounge in the old Ramova Theater.
About The Author
Section 108 Row 13, Bassist for Barren Plains, Acclaimed drunkard