Part of me wants to toss Mr. Baseball out of the door and lock it behind him. I wouldn't want this self-absorbed SOB as a shipmate. But we paid for his degree. If all we get out of him is four years swabbing decks and cleaning heads, at least we'll have gotten something.
Maybe he'll make the pros. Maybe he'll be standing on the baseline, cap over his chest as he watches the color guard go by, and if he does he'd better be aware that they're better men and women than himself.