Now that baseball season is over for most teams, their focus starts to shift toward next year. One team that needs to be looking to next year is the Cincinnati Reds. Everybody has seen this club get built into a perennial contender in the NL Central, and everybody has seen this club not be able to get it done come October. There’s an old baseball adage that say when you need to make a change, you can’t fire the players, so you fire the manager.
It seems that Reds general manager Walt Jocketty was thinking about firing some people after the Reds notched what many consider to be yet another disappointing end to this season. According to CBS Sports, Jocketty had been considering making hitting coach Brook Jacoby the sacrificial lamb until a conversation occurred between himself and manager Dusty Baker. While CBS Sports didn’t provide details of that conversation, we knew here at SBM we needed to get the details* because there had to be an explanation why Baker was given a two-year contract extension last year only to get fired when Jocketty wasn’t even thinking of firing him.
*Legal Disclaimer – J-Dub and Meehan have a strange way of defining certain terms. “Get the details” should be read as “completely fucking fabricated” by these two jamokes during yet another of their nights spent drinking brake fluid and Red Bull until 6 a.m. Despite that, we here at Sports Blog Movement would be willing to bet these guys probably aren’t far from the truth…
The phone rings in Walt Jocketty’s office. He glances at the Caller ID, takes a heavy sigh, and picks up the receiver.
DB: Hey Walt, Dusty Baker here…
WJ: Hello Dusty. What can I do for you?
DB: Well, I was looking to set up a time to talk to you about some ideas I’ve got for next season.
WJ: Yeah, I know you’ve been leaving me messages for a few days here. It’s just that we’ve been really busy over here having pretty much that same conversation. There’s a lot of ideas being bounced around the front office, and I just wanted to get those all collected before we talked.
DB: Uhhh, what?
WJ: Yeah, there’s been a lot of talk over here; you know how it is. I was just hoping to sift out some of the not-so-practical ideas before we had a talk about it, because I knew you would have some ideas as well.
DB: You’re goddamn right I’ve got some ideas. I’m the fucking manager, remember? I feel like you haven’t you been returning my phone calls for a reason. Why wouldn’t you want to hear my ideas first, since I’m down on the field with these guys rather than what some front-office dipshit thinks?
WJ: Take it easy, Dusty. It’s not like that. I just wanted to come to the table with all the ideas, because…
DB: (Interrupts) Don’t give me that shit. You guys are gonna fire my ass, aren’t you?
WJ: I’m not going to fire you.
DB: I can read, asshole. I see what the papers are saying.
WJ: Calm down, Dusty. I’ll be honest with you, that idea was mentioned to me, but it’s my decision, and…
DB: (Interrupts again) See, I fucking knew it! Why don’t you just grow some balls and say it?!
WJ: (starting to lose his patience) You didn’t let me finish. It’s my decision, and I had no intention of firing you. I was actually thinking of letting [hitting coach Brook] Jacoby go.
DB: That’s typical, you gutless cocksucker! You need to find somebody to blame for the fact you gave Joey Votto a shitload of money only to watch him turn into a shittier version of Sean fucking Casey. That shit ain’t Jacoby’s fault. Grow some balls, bitch! If you’re going to fire somebody, fire me!
WJ: Goddamnit, Dusty! I keep trying to tell you I’m not going to fire you!
DB: That’s because you don’t have the stones to do it!
WJ: (finally loses his temper) You know what?! Fuck you! If you weren’t such a fucking idiot, you’d know that if I wanted to get rid of your worthless ass, I could have done it last year by just not extending your contract. Now, if I fire your ass, I still fucking have to pay you!
DB: Goddamn right you’re paying me! I took your sorry-ass roster to 90-72, and it took one the best teams in baseball to beat us!
WJ: What?! You got butt-fucked on live television by a team that couldn’t even spell the word “play-offs” for twenty fucking years! We gave you a championship-caliber roster and once again you managed to make a winning team under-perform!
DB: What a bunch of horseshit. What the fuck am I supposed to work with? You built a roster that had Corky Miller on it!
WJ: Yeah, and I’m surprised you didn’t keep batting him second in the fucking lineup like you did with Zack Cozart. What the fuck was that? And let’s talk about how you have no idea how to use Aroldis Chapman. Here’s one of the most dominant relievers in the fucking game, and you consistently have no goddamn clue what to do with him. Does Sam LeCure have incriminating pictures of you?
DB: Now I get it, this is all because I’m black, isn’t it? You racist fuck!
WJ: I”M A RACIST???!!! You’re the asshole who said “Black and Hispanic players are better suited to playing in the sun and heat than white players.” Good luck trying to sell that one, dickhead.
DB: Anyway, this is still about your failure to give me the opportunity to win.
WJ: My failure? Let’s talk about how you should have brought Chapman into that wild card game pretty much anytime after the fourth inning. You needed to stop the bleeding; instead you just sat there with you thumb up your ass and watched the game get away? Go fuck yourself!
DB: I don’t need your wrinkled white ass anyway. I can have any job in Major League Baseball if I want it. I can get the Nationals job with one phone call.
WJ: Why’s that? Did their janitor die?
DB: Yeah, we’ll just see about that, fuckface!
WJ: Have fun managing the Mariners on nights when Felix Hernandez doesn’t pitch, asshole! (Slams phone down, takes a sip of coffee, and lights a cigarette).
WJ: (Picks up phone) Security? This is Jocketty. I want you to wait two days, box up Dusty Baker’s office, put all his shit out in the parking lot, and then change the locks.