EDITOR'S NOTE: The following post is a piece of satire, submitted from special guest writer known only as "Angry Mike" Scioscia, a parody of the real Mike Scioscia, so, you know, don't sue us. You can follow Angry Mike Scioscia on Twitter at @Scioscialism. This post contains a fair amount of profanity, so please be aware of that before proceeding. I'm tired of writing disclaimers. Just read it, it is very funny.
Here we go, shitheads. The Skipper. On record. Let’s talk about it.
I guess the question on everyone’s mind is: “Gee skip, why are we such hot fucking garbage so far this year?” That’s a great question, stupid, and it will form the basis of this short essay on
poorly played baseball.
Firstly, let me consider the possible reasons for our recent ineptitude insofar as winning baseball games is concerned. Then grant me your charity as I select what I believe to be the likeliest candidate among the reasons posited. Finally, allow me to avail myself of your understanding as I attempt to explicate my belief as to why it is that we shall overcome this obstacle and foist ourselves into our rightful place as “One of the teams that plays for that final wild card spot,” (We’re not going to catch the Rangers).
The first of the reasons I’d like to consider here is one that has been floated around the Twitterverse and Blogosphere, and seems to have picked up something of a cult following. I will introduce it and dismiss it simultaneously by asserting that the marine layer is not to blame for our woes thus far. We have managed to suck on the road about as well as we have at home; and in domes, no less. Moving on.
The second reason is one that hits a little closer to home. A bunch of you assholes seem convinced that the management owns the lion’s share of the blame in this season’s failure. Firstly, kiss my ass. Secondly, thank you. Thank you for giving me so much credit and for overestimating my ability to influence the outcome of a Major League baseball game. What is it that you think I actually do in this little dugout? All this nose and ear touching - half the time I just have an itch. As far as everyone whining about the bumble-fuck manner in which I handle the lineup, you have to understand what’s loaded into creating a lineup each day. The case of Bobby Abreu should tell you something. Do you think that if my sole interest was winning that day’s baseball game, I’d be playing Bobby Abreu, given the other options at my disposal? It’s called “showcasing.” And it’s just one of the many things I have to consider before I put names on the chalkboard. In this case, it turned out that Alexi Amarista had more value in
getting us what we wanted than Abreu did. That’s back-office management. I know it’s a real bitch to watch in the short term, but some of us do have to think long-term. Not long-term like Arte thinking of moving us to L.A. - that’s total bullshit - but long-term like we need to whittle down a bloated roster while getting the most that we can out of the bits that we know we don’t intend to keep. You ever play Rummy against a really tough opponent? Try it against 29 tough opponents, and with much higher stakes. Shit’s a real bear. But that’s what I signed up for, I guess.