I’m calling it. Like Dr. Kevorkian told his nurse on their last case of the day, “Pull the plug and let’s get the hell out of here to beat the traffic.”

As the preeminent voice of the common Philadelphia sports fan I’m declaring March 1  as Bryce Harper Day. Punch and pie will be served, but the event is BYOC (bring your own cyanide).

I’ve had it. I’ve had it with the tweets, the speculation, the “hilarious” fake twitter accounts that claim to be in the “know” about Harper signing. The takes. The internet sleuths reading into Harper’s dumb tweets and every promotional photo of him like conspiracy theorist and the Zapruder film. Is he wearing a Phillies branded arm sleeve in that photo?! IS THAT A SHOOTER ON THE GRASSY KNOLL IN RIGHT FIELD?!

I’m sick of the will they-won’t they tension that gets annoying and stale in a sitcom after one season (I’m looking at you, “The Office”). Just fuck and get it over with.

March 1 is it. If Bryce Harper has not signed with Philadelphia by the new month please join me in declaring him dead to the city.

When free agency feels longer than the season itself, you know something is wrong with the process. At least Manny Machado took the coward’s way out and signed with the San Diego Padres. It’s the perfect situation for him though. No pressure to perform. A half-full stadium every night. Copious amounts of Sun-In to keep his lettuce looking fresh. He can go 50% by year two of his contract and everyone will forget he’s even in the league.

Sure, he’ll never win anything, but have you ever tried the fish tacos at The Taco Stand? ::chef’s kiss::

So we need your answer by March 1, Bryce. What’s it going to be? Another first round flameout with the Nationals? Playing second fiddle to the Cubs in Chicago with the White Sox?

Or do you want to come to the Phillies and be mocked by me on a daily basis if you don’t sign by March 1?

The Phillies have options. I hear Ugueth Urbina has a parole hearing coming up and I do believe he’s still under team control. YOUR MOVE, BORAS.

Take your shitty hair, quaff it up real nice, and make a fucking decision before March the 1st and let’s all get on with our lives. Take a few minutes out of your days of playing craps on the $2 tables at the Gold Coast in Vegas and drinking $1 Coors Banquet Beer at the local Tap and Cap and let’s do this thing.

Or sign after March 1st, I don’t care. I’ll be bored of baseball by June either way.