In which a conversation between two baseball professionals splices the constructs of their sub-conscious.

 

"‘Ensign Mozeliak, you have performed exceptionally today.'

"‘Thank you, Captain.'

"‘Your bravery in the face of impossible odds saved this crew, this vessel, and is an example to us all. Number One?'

"‘Ensign John Mozeliak, as first officer of this ship, and with the heartfelt endorsement of Starfleet and Captain Picard, I promote you to the rank of Lieutenant, effective immediately.'

"‘Thank you sir!'

"‘Thank you, Number One. Lieutenant, congratulations. And let me take this moment to declare the news: I have granted you to a position on my bridge! You will now sit at the helm alongside Commander Data, and you will only have to go on away teams when it's really dramatic and a lot of the main cast are going.  Like boarding Borg ships or something.  Because otherwise they're pretty lame, frankly.'

"‘Understood, sir.'

"‘Your actions today were absolutely top drawer, Lieutenant. I'll see to it personally that you receive the Medal of Valor for this. Well done.'

"‘Congratulations, Lieutenant.'

"‘Thanks, Geordi.'

"‘Congratulations.'

"‘Lieutenant, I wonder, if you have a moment, if you'd like to stop by my quarters for a bit?'

"‘Counselor Troi? I'm . . . intrigued.'

"‘Back off, Troi. He needs to come see me down at sickbay immediately. I'm required to perform . . . anatomy exams after each promotion. Starfleet rules.'

"‘I saw him first, doctor.'

"‘Ladies, please! There's enough of Lieutenant Mo to go around. Now, let's the trois of us head down to Ten-Forward for a cocktail or six and see where the night takes us.'

"Ah! What-?! Damn. Alright alright. Hang on. Hello?"

"Penny for your thoughts."

"Who is this?"

"Rhymes with Neo and the name means ‘God'."

"Hey Theo. What time is it?"

"Almost 2. Were you asleep or something?"

"I think I was getting close."

"I just got back from this place called Rat Cellar or Rathskeller or something. Some German joint. Place felt like a wedding reception."

"Let me find the words to express to you how thrilled I am that you called me up at 2 AM to tell me that."

"This town's crap, man. I swear. After sundown, you'd think zombies had cleared the place out. Next year, let's petition MLB to have this thing in Miami. It could be better than last year. Last year rocked, remember? Vegas baby! Vegas!"

"Yeah, we all remember your Vince Vaughn impression. At least they put us up in a decent hotel."

"I'll grant you that. I was surprised. I didn't know Indy had a Holiday Inn, much less a four star hotel. When I saw it was Indy on the newsletter, I figured we'd be staying in a Howard Johnson."

"Yeah, well the Midwest ain't all dirt roads and Klan rallies. You should really give more cities in the Midwest a chance. St. Louis, for one. The Riverfront's a great place to-"

"Whatever. The Midwest is lame. The only time I travel with the team is when they stay on the coasts or when they play the White Sox. I got stuck in Cleveland for a four game series my first season on the job. I got three words for you. Co. Ma. Tose."

"Yeah. Cincy is the low priority for me as far as out-of-town trips during the season. Ohio as a whole . . . meh."

"Me, I need some excitement. One time in the Bronx, I took Cashman out after the Sox swept a three-game set. We were out till 7 in the morning, man! It felt like college all over again."

"You and Cash? Seems like he'd be a wet blanket."

"Yeah, he's hopeless. He drank Buckler. Fill in the rest."

"And what do you mean ‘felt like college again'? You went to Yale."

"Mo. Mo. Mo. My naïve little friend."

"So I guess my question is, do you ever get any sleep when there's work to be done?"

"Nah. Don't need it man. You can sleep when you're dead. You only get to be GM of a team with a $120-plus million dollar payroll that's won two championships under your hand making you the hottest thing in your city since Dropkick Murphys once in a lifetime, brother. Take advantage."

"Yeah, I think it's way less than once in a lifetime."

"Any time I don't spend out, I focus on my pet project."

"What's that?"

"My politically conscious punk rock group, Critical Truth."

"Um."

"We rock, man. We've been playing mostly open mikes around Fenway during the offseason, but we're about to blow up in a big way."

"Uh huh."

"We're all about speaking truth to power. Telling it how it is. Not afraid to get up in The Man's face."

"Theo, you're a millionaire white guy who's practically the king of Boston. Aren't you ‘The Man'?"

"So what's the deal with signing Penny. You looking to just copy the Theogony?"

"Copy you? What?"

"I give you Lugo. I dump Smoltz and you sign him. Penny tanks in Boston and you give him 7 and a half million."

"To be fair, Penny was in San Fran in between."

"Yeah, but come on man. Admit it."

"Admit what?"

"Man crush."

"Get lost. Man crush? On you?"

"You've been picking up my sloppy seconds like you wish you were me. Trying to build a Theocracy in St. Louis? You gonna sign Saito next?"

"I- Saito? The thought hadn't even crossed my mind."

"Why is your voice shaking, Mo?"

"Oh just give it up already!"

"Hey, I can't blame you man. I've been a victim of GM envy myself."

"You too? I mean- Uh. You've experienced this thing you totally just made up that I myself haven't experienced in the least?"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear you stumble your way through that sentence. But yeah, I've been there."

"Who was it?"

"Who do you think?"

"Billy?"

"Bingo."

"I can see that. So what were the symptoms?"

"Aw man. It was pretty bad for a while. It's just that for the longest time, he was the Man. It's not like today where everybody reads Fangraphs. Back then, Billy was the only game in town."

"Alright, so what was it like?"

"Well, I'll tell you what my bottom was."

"The lowest you went?"

"Yeah."

". . . So?"

"Moneyball fan fiction."

"Oh my God! What! This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. How can you write fan fiction about a book that is itself non-fiction!"

"Look, ease up alright? I'm only telling you this to make you feel better about your Theo-loving self."

"Your voice sounds stretched. Are you flexing right now?"

"You know it! My closet door's got a full-length mirror. I'm getting a good look at what the female population of New England wishes was going to bed with them every night!"

"Jesus. Just tell me about the fan-fic. How do you even make it fictional?"

"Well, you know the chapter on Jeremy Brown? I just Ctrl-F'd through an electronic copy of the book and replaced‘Jeremy Brown' with ‘Theo "The Theo" Epstein'."

"Christ. You gave yourself the nickname 'The Theo'?"

"-and I replaced every mention of ‘catcher' or ‘player' with ‘immensely talented young executive who could totally make Billy Beane's job way easier and even rub Beane's shoulders if Billy wanted to in a totally not gay way'."

"This has got to be a joke."

"So the chapter was transformed into Beane's search for that perfect assistant GM who could totally be his hetero partner for life."

"This is beautiful. I wish I was taping this."

"That wasn't the only fan-fic I wrote."

"Oh yeah? Let me stifle a chuckle and ask you what else, Mr. Dickens, you happened to write."

"Billy Beane as Superman."

"Like, wearing a cape and fighting crime?"

"Yeah. The premise was that his name gives it away. Clark Kent. Billy Beane. Same consonant-sounds beginning both first- and last names."

"Wow."

"He's only the GM of the A's by day. But at a moment's notice, his super-hearing can clue him in when someone's in danger."

"So, let me guess. You were Lois Lane?"

"No dude! That's way too fruity."

"Alright, so how did you work yourself into it?"

"Well, you know Superman's got the Fortress of Solitude up at the North Pole right?"

"Right."

"Billy's Fortress of Solitude was my apartment on Comm Ave."

". . ."

"Mo?"

"Wow."

"Yeah, I told you man: I've been there.

"I don't know what to say."

"So what fan fiction have you written about me?"

"What?! Don't be ridiculous!"

"Come on man. Just admit it. I opened up to you. I made myself pretty vulnerable."

"Well . . ."

"Yeah?"

"Well . . . Sometimes I go to Over the Monster and post comments about how awesome you are and how you seem really cool."

"There, see? Nothing embarrassing about that. Frankly, I post comments on OTM about how awesome I am too. So there."

"Really? You comment on your own team's SBN blog?"

"Sure. Never about business. Just about stuff. You know: ‘Theo rocks!' Stuff like that. Oh, and I make sure to comment once a week about this awesome band I heard called Critical Truth."

"Jesus."

"They rock and they're not afraid to tell it like it is, you know?"

"Get over it, Theo."

"I comment on Viva El Birdos too, you know. It's not my favorite site; too little cussing. If I can't say [expletive deleted] or [expletive deleted] or [extensive and frighteningly creative expletive that makes you wonder if Theo's dad was a longshoreman or something, deleted] then there's only so much fun I can have."

"Jesus dude. Was your dad a longshoreman or something?"

"Novelist."

"Oh. That explains . . . nothing."

"Yeah, so it's not my favorite. But I get bored at OTM sometimes, so I troll around. I've been having quite a bit of fun at VEB lately. I've been perfecting this new avatar for a while now."

"VEB? I mean, I'll lurk there. But I never comment. They cover my own team, for God's sakes. I think it'd be too obvious if I commented. And I can't imagine what the office would think if they found out."

"Well, I've got a clever handle at VEB. Nobody would ever suspect that I'm a seven-figure GM."

"Oh! You gotta tell me what it is."

"You really wanna know?"

"Yeah!"

"You really wanna know?"

"Dude, just tell me."

"ClemsonGirl."

"You're kidding me."

"Would I lie about something like that?"

"Yes! That would be the most ridiculous thing if it were true."

"You just re-read through ClemsonGirl's comments and tell me if you can imagine Theology sitting at the keyboard, Johnny boy."

"Come on, Theo. You've got to be pulling my leg on this. First Moneyball fan-fic. Then Beane-as-Superman coming to your apartment for backrubs during times of stress. Now you're a college student in love with pretty much every twenty-something centerfielder?"

". . ."

". . ."

"Nah, I'm just joshing you, man!"

"I knew it!"

"I had you going for a while though, right?"

"I don't know. It was pretty unbelievable from the start. I mean, who would spend hours of their day writing fictional accounts of what they suspect MLB GM's days are like?"

"A loser! That's who!"

"Yeah, well look, Theodred. I've gotta get to sleep. We've got a long day of dodging Rosenthal tomorrow."

"I hear ya, man. Sabean cornered me yesterday about some cockamamie trade idea. Then he talked about Coletti's boots for like twenty minutes, about how awesome they are and how he wishes he had a pair. Just go buy some, for God's sakes! Makes me wish they included cyanide capsules with the Winter Meetings brochure."

"Alright. I'll talk at you tomorrow."

"Hey John. All this was in confidence, yeah? I mean, sure I was spinning a yarn on you, but other people might not think so if they heard it."

"You can trust me . . . ClemsonGirl; what a riot."

"Night."

"Night."

"Three hours of sleep before the alarm. [Expletive deleted]. I can't wait to get back to Boston.

". . .

"‘Theo! I need your help!

"‘Billy?'

"‘"Billy" is only my mild mannered general-managing alter-ego. Please, call me Superman.'

"‘What are you doing here?!'

"‘This is my fortress of solitude, is it not? Commence with the backrubs!'

THE END

THE DEALING OF THE CARDS, or HOW THE CARDS WERE DEALT: 

A CLOSET DRAMA IN TWO ACTS CONCERNING

THE TELEPHONIC ADVENTURES OF OUR OWN JOHN MOZELIAK

 

THE PLAYERS

 

JOHN – a fresh-faced and optimistic young executive trying to make his mark on the baseball world.

 

CONFIDANT – JOHN’s rock in times of trouble; a mysterious character whose identity remains unknown.

 

ACT I

 

Interior of well-lit executive office.  A large oak desk is in middle of room.  At the desk sits JOHN, our story’s hero.

 

JOHN:

on phone Well that’s fine, Theo.  I’m glad we were able to work this out, then.  Uh huh, I’ll make all the calls on my

end, you just make sure you get him on a plane to St. Louis and I’ll see that you get your slugger soon enough.  Uh

huh.  You too, Theo.  So long.

 

hangs up receiver; pauses a beat; picks up receiver, dials

 

on phone Hello, Chris?  Chris, are you there?

 

Chris? This is John.  John Mozeliak?  Yeah, Bossman John. 

 

laughs

 

 Listen, Chris.  I’ve got some pretty big - Chris?  Could you do me a favor?  Could you turn the music down please.  I’m having trouble hearing what you’re say – is that Master P?

 

laughs

 

Yes, you’re a No Limit Souljah, no doubt.

 

laughs

 

Uh huh, ok Chris – yes, Chris I heard you.  No Limit.  

 

Now can I tell you something?  Well, I’ll tell you.  I’ve got some pretty big news, Chris.  You’ve been traded.

 

Yes, that’s right.  You’ve been traded.  

 

Boston.

 

Uh huh.

 

Well, that was the idea.  Yes.  Fresh start all around.

 

Coming the other way?  Julio Lugo.  No no.  HOO-li-o.  No, not Coolio.  Although you’re right.  That would be pretty sweet.

 

Yes, he’s a shortstop.  

 

Well, it’s just a straight-up one-for-one.  We thought you could use a new place to work on your game and I think Theo and his people were thinking the same about Lugo.

 

Well, I’m glad you’re taking it so well.  Uh huh.  Yes, that’s fine.  No, it’s official as of now.  Yes…yes…y – yes, go ahead and call your family.  Just call your dad last – yes, last please.  He doesn’t know yet and I’d like him to hear it from me.

 

Alright Chris, well it was a pleasure talking to you.  I’ll call you again before this is all over, but I want to wish you – yes, yes I know – I want to wish you the best in Boston and wherever else your career may take you.

 

Uh huh.  

 

Chris, I’m not going to say that.  That’s ridic – 

 

sighs

 

Alright.  Nuh na nuh NA.  Happy?

 

Mmbye-bye.

 

hangs up receiver; pauses a beat; sighs audibly

 

Ho boy.

 

picks up receiver, dials

 

Hello?  Hello, Tony?  Listen, I’ve got something I need to share with you.  Is this a bad time?

 

Where are you right now?  

 

Spa?  Oh.

 

Mani, pedi, full body?  Well, that sounds ni- 

 

Dave’s there too?  Oh, that’s good.  I need to speak with him too – Tony, could you have them turn down the mood music?  I’m having trouble hearing you over the vibraphone.

 

Yes, fine.  I can hear you now, Tony. Clear and plain and coming through fine. 

 

I'm coming through fine too, eh? Good, then. Well then as you say we're both coming through fine. Good. 

 

Well it's good that you're fine and I'm fine. I agree with you. It's great to be fine. 

 

laughs 

 

Now then Tony. You know how we've always talked about the possibility of Chris leaving the team. 

 

Chris, Tony. Chris Duncan. Yes, your main man.

 

Well now what happened is, one of the other GMs in the league made an offer to take Chris off of our hands.  Just a little offer. 

 

Well, I'll tell you what I did.  I thought about it for a while, and I decided – I thought it would be best if – I took the offer, To – 

Well let me finish, Tony. 

 

Let me finish, Tony. 

 

Well, listen, how do you think I feel about it? Can you imagine how I feel about it, Tony? 

 

Why do you think I'm calling you? Just to say hello? 

 

Of course I like to speak to you! Of course I like to say hello! Not now, but any time, Tony. I'm just calling up to tell you about the deal. 

 

It's a friendly call. Of course it's a friendly call. Listen, if it wasn't friendly, ... you probably wouldn't have even got it. 

 

Now Tony, listen.  We’re getting back Julio Lugo.  No no, LU-go.  

 

Goalie? No, that wouldn’t make much sense now would it?  

 

Detroit I think.  Or maybe he’s retired.  He’s got to be pushing 50.

 

The Blues?  No that was years ago.  No Tony, Cujo will not be your shortstop.  Lugo.

 

Yes, shortstop.  At least against lefties.  And he can play a little second or third too, should the need – 

 

Well, now don’t get all in a huff about it.  I know Chris is a fine player, but – 

 

Ok.

 

beat

 

Hi Dave.  Yes, I’m afraid that’s true but – 

 

Look Dave, I’m just trying to do my job.  Tell Tony I’m just trying to do my job.

 

Well, that’s uncalled for.  Don’t you think that’s a little unfair?

 

Really.  Just leave.  Really?  Well, I – 

 

Hi Tony.  Both of you?

 

sighs

 

Well, I guess I’ll have to cancel the deal then.  It’ll make me a laughingstock.  An impotent stooge who – 

 

You don’t care.  I see.  

 

Oh, now how is that fair?  That’s a downright insulting thing to – 

 

What’s that?  Your dry cleaning, Tony?  I’m not going to pick up your dry clean – 

 

You’d just leave.  Really?

 

sighs 

 

But you’re in Houston now.  Can’t it wait till you get back from Philly?

 

I see.

 

But I don’t have your ticket.  They won’t give it to me without a tic – 

 

You know them personally?  And they’re already expecting me?  

 

Alright, but this is the last time – 

 

Ok, well thank you To – thank you Tony for hearing me out on this.  I’m glad we can understand each other.

 

Yes, I’ll call you next time before something like this is made official.

 

Yes I see that now.

 

Ok, thank you Tony.  Mm hmm.  Alright.  Bye.

 

hangs up receiver; puts head in hands; collects self; sighs; picks up receiver, dials

 

Theo, hi.  It’s John again.  Listen, let’s put the deal on standby for now.

 

No no, not cold feet.  I just – 

 

How do you mean?

 

He most certainly does not!  I mean, he’s a great manager and I respect him, but I’ve got autonomy in all roster-related matt – 

 

How did you know about that?  The dry cleaning conversation just happened.  How could you have possibly found out – 

 

Are you going to answer or just keep laughing?

 

Goodbye Theo.

 

hangs up receiver; picks up receiver, dials

 

Chris?  Chris, it’s John again.  Listen, the deal’s on hold for now.  We’re going to explore some other op –

 

In my pants.  Why?

 

No Chris, I assure you.  My balls are safely in my pants and not being stepped on by your father’s size 11s.  And frankly I find that a rude and unprofessional thing to – 

 

laughs self-consciously

 

Yeah.  You’re alright too.

 

Look, just let anyone you told know that it’s on hold for now.

 

Uh huh.  Fuckin’ A to you too, Chris.

 

Alright.  Bye.

 

 

ACT II

 

Interior of same office.  JOHN sits at same oak desk.  Phone is on speaker.

 

JOHN is placing a call.  The phone rings.  The mysterious CONFIDANT answers.

 

CONFIDANT:

Legend residence.  Hardcore speaking.

 

JOHN:

Hey HL.  It’s me, John.

 

CONFIDANT:

Mo!  What’s shakin’ man?

 

JOHN:

sighs Oh it’s been a rough day.

 

CONFIDANT:

The Ghost and The Darkness riding your ass again?

 

JOHN:

Ghost and the…?  Oh.  Yeah, you could say that.

 

CONFIDANT:

Well, tell me about it man.

 

JOHN brings CONFIDANT up to speed on occurrences.

 

JOHN:

…and that brings us to now.

 

CONFIDANT:

Yeesh.  Well, do you feel like you’ve got any clout left?  Any power whatsoever?

 

JOHN:

stares at ceiling I don’t know.  The Nationals are hiring.  Maybe I’ll give them a call.

 

CONFIDANT:

Whoa whoa whoa.  John.  Buddy.  Let’s not do something we’ll all regret.  Just take a deep breath.  You’ll pull through this.

 

But, uh.  You know, I will have to put this up on VEB…right?

 

JOHN:

Oh no, HL.  I couldn’t cope with that.  Please.  The fewer people that know about this, the better.

 

CONFIDANT:

Look, with Tony’s attitude on public relations, this story is going to get out one way or another.  And the Birdos are a sympathetic bunch.  They’ll be hearing your side of the story.

 

Tell you what.  I’ll leave out the bit about the dry cleaning.

 

JOHN:

Jesus.  I would hope so.

 

Alright.  Just make it look like I’ve still got some juevos, alright?

 

CONFIDANT:

Aside Is this even realistic?  I mean, what’s the author thinking here?  “Juevos”?  Would a major league GM say that?  Who writes dialogue like this?

 

JOHN:

No kidding man.  This guy’s a hack.  Three-fourths of this piece of crap is essentially a bad Bob Newhart routine.  And did you read the bit where he just rips off Kubrick and Sellers?  Clearly not his own work.

 

CONFIDANT:

Yeah, this guy sucks.

 

JOHN:

Goethe he’s not.

 

CONFIDANT:

No shit. end Aside

 

Why don’t you take your juevos back?

 

JOHN:

Huh?  Like how?

 

CONFIDANT:

Make the deal anyway.  Fuck em.

 

JOHN:

Seriously?

 

CONFIDANT:

Seriously.

 

JOHN:

Oh I don’t – you know what?  Fuck em!  I’m gonna do it!

 

CONFIDANT:

Yeah!

 

JOHN:

I’m gonna make the trade!  This is my ship.  I run the joint.  Tony answers to ME – 

 

Oh, hang on.

 

CONFIDANT:

What’s up?

 

JOHN:

Just got a text from Tony.  He wants me to swing by his place and scoop out cat litter.

 

beat

 

I’m still making the trade.

 

CONFIDANT:

Attaboy Mo!

 

JOHN:

HL, one more thing.  Is AZ really a robot?  Cause I’ve been reading about this saybur – sayburmetrix thing and I think it could really help our front office decision making.  Maybe he has some insight?

 

CONFIDANT:

He was human once.  But…  He’s more machine now than man: twisted and analytical.

 

JOHN:

Aside Terrible writing.  Just terrible.

 

FIN

 

The competition to determine, once and for all, the Official 2009 Cardinals Players’ Nicknames (all nicknames are unofficial, offer void in Tennessee).

 

Continue reading this post »

From MLB.com, Billy Southworth was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame today, Monday, December 3rd, 2007.

Southworth was elected by the Veterans Committee along with four others: Dick Williams, Bowie Kuhn, Walter O'Malley, and Barney Dreyfuss.

http://mlb.mlb.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20071203&content_id=2315723&vkey=news_mlb&fext=. jsp&c_id=mlb

Southworth managed the Cardinals in 1929 and again from 1940-1945.  From '42 to '44, the Cards won a total of 316 games, three pennants, and two World Series.

Wikipedia Biography:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Billy_Southworth

In the age of Herzog and La Russa, where Schoendienst is an old-timer, someone like Southworth is barely remembered.

With such a terrific managerial career, Southworth is often an overlooked and underappreciated member of the Cardinals legacy.

His election to the Hall is well deserved.

Let me introduce myself by saying that I'm a longtime reader, first time writer.  That reminds me of a Mr. Obvious bit, but I digress.

Recently, I've noticed a couple of posts on this site and opinions elsewhere that have suggested moving Duncan lower in the batting order (most commonly bumping Edmonds and hitting in the fifth spot behind Rolen).  It would seem to make sense given Edmonds continuing low batting line and the general lack of offense from everyone but Duncan (although Pujols and Rolen have both been coming on as of late).

Given Duncan's line, it would seem to make sense to give him more RBI opportunities.  My question is: how much of Duncan's showing thus far can be contributed to hitting in front of Pujols?

To my knowledge, when Duncan first came up last season, La Russa intentionally put him in front of Pujols so that he'd see plenty of fastballs.

Another issue is how different of a hitter Duncan seems to be with RISP.  Personally, I feel he becomes too aggressive, not uncommon for young players.  From baseball-reference.com, his career OPS w/RISP is .639.  In 2007, it's .833. That's an improvement but remember, with the exception of a few pinch at bats, this season he's been batting exclusively in front of Pujols.

Pitchers would undoubtedly pitch him differently if Speizio, Wilson (ugh), or even Encarnacion was his protection.  While Duncan's plate discipline has improved, I'm not so sure we could count on him to be the offensive force he is now if he were batting lower in the order.

I like Duncan and I want him to succeed (he's on my fantasy team), but I'm not so sure he's the solution lower in the order.