GM Rob McMonigal sat at his desk, reviewing the names of the players currently on the 40 man. He was still debating about whether to offer a renewed contract to any of the one-year deal players like Delgado or Encarnacion, who'd played well for the team, despite their age.
He heard a mild buzzing and pressed a button on the desk.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Jason Ramsey here to see you," said the front desk associate, a friendly young woman interning to learn the business of sports management.
"Send him down," said McMonigal. He'd been expecting this.
- Ramsey.PNG (22.55 KiB) Viewed 97 times
Last year the total was 17.
"Have a seat, Jason," said McMonigal. "I was just going over some of the pending free agents, so this is perfect timing."
"I saw the announcements," said Ramsey, still standing near the doorway. I'm looking forward to working with Simon this coming year. Nothing against the other guy, but he just wasn't getting through to anyone."
"I agree. Sorry we didn't tell you sooner but I like to preserve everyone's dignity."
"It's also great that some people got extensions for their expiring contracts."
"Yeah, that's the best part of this job, sometimes. Now, what was your impression of Manny Collazo?"
Ramsey slammed his large palms down on the table, jostling the multiple little mementos McMonigal kept there. The bobbleheads nodded furiously.
"I am sure you're aware I am on an expiring contract."
McMonigal stared at him. "Yes."
"So where is my extension?" Ramsey asked. "I got us to 80 wins just a few seasons ago. I've been to the playoffs 4 times with other teams. I deserve an extension and a raise."
McMonigal kept on staring.
"You lost 101 games in your first season. You lost 108 in year three and another 97 this past season. By all accounts and honestly, by Bo's preference, I would have fired you already. That's a lot of losses, Jason."
"And how many of those are your head, McMonigal?" retorted Ramsey, pushing himself back from the desk and standing to his full height. "I've always listened to your directions, given you full ability to control or override lineup decisions. Played who you told me to play, even when it meant almost certain losses, so we could 'find out what we needed to know.'"
"That's part of the job and you know it," said McMonigal, also standing. "If you don't like it, you can always resign. The fact is, Rocky Mountain booted you on your ass and we came along and gave you a second chance. Now you're going to either make the most of it, or you're done. No more excuses. If this team is on pace to lose 90 games again, you're done here. Do you understand?"
"I don't even know which players will be on the team this year," said Ramsey. "How can you expect me to guarantee we'll start winning again when I don't even know who's on first right now."
"You do know who's on first," said McMonigal. "That's the least of our decisions."
"Do we know who's on second?"
"I'm not talking about who's on second."
"Okay, who's on first?"
"Yes."
"Skip it. What about third?"
"I don't know."
"So who is on third?"
"No, we know who's on first."
"I'm not asking you who's on first. Who's on third?"
"I don't know."
"Third base!"
They both just stared at each other for a long time, saying nothing.
"Look, this is getting us nowhere," said McMonigal. "It also sounds eerily familiar, but I'm not sure why. Let's just put it this way: I'm not asking you for a Monty. Or even a division win. But I'd like to get us back to being close to a .500 team the fans want to see. I'm giving you a "play decent" proposal. Ok?"
"And if I succeed?" asked Ramsey.
"We'll extend your contract."
"And if I fail?"
"Well, then, third base won't be your problem anymore, let alone first."
"You'll give me better players?"
"I'm going to try, but some of these salary asks are ridiculous."
"I just want to know who is going to help me," said Ramsey.
"I certainly hope so."
"What?"
"Please don't ask about second base, Jason. Just leave me alone with these contract requests."
With that, a rather confused manager left a rather frustrated general manager alone. He shut the door on the way out. McMonigal sighed and fell back into his chair.
At this rate, it was going to be a loooong off-season.
