As Overheard in an Anonymous Irish Pub between the docks and Telegraph Hill:
(Mustached Man, with rosy cheeks, clearly past his 6th pint)
MM: The reason they call ‘em Banshees isn’t because they’re scary, I’ll tell you that. The middle of that batting order is literally transparent. Now, I told them damn reporters, I don’t have time for an Outlook, a Preview, a Review, a Prospectus, A Retrospective, or a damned press conference. Boston baseball is the mildly athletic embodiment of a cold cup of chowder. Now get the fuck outta my face.
(Young Man, skinny, eyes darting around the bar)
YM: How about… A free round for the whole pub?
MM: Well shit, son, why didn’t you say so? Rounds on this lad! (Cheers All Around the Packed Pub) Okay, shit… Alright. alright. The Banshees? Been .500 for years. Perfectly balanced. Going nowhere. I don’t know what you could want to know about ‘em, but you have by the time this pint is empty to ask questions. I’ve never technically been with the team, and I’d like to keep my teeth, so I hope it goes without saying, this is Off The damn books.
YM: I can’t write a lick, sir, I promise. I’m just tryin to know what’s to be known. I only got to see a couple games. Too busy down at the docks. So… What did you think of their season, what stands out?
MM: I thought a lot of nothing. Not a single Banshee made it on a leaderboard in any category except saves and shutdowns, which are horse-shit stats made up for limp-wristed fuckups who can’t pitch a full nine.
YM: Well, there’s some star ballplayers though, certainly. Don’t you think there’s some hope for the future? You can’t deny Arvid Hunt has been a revelation in the outfield. Ward and Hollier have really turned our defense around. Or that’s what they tell me.
MM: Oof… Listen kid. I get they’re probably your heroes and all, but look. We picked Hunt off a railroad track last year. He’s a damn natural. But he has no idea what it takes to really play this game. He prances around out there in center like he’s in a damned burlesque show, but he’s striking out as much as anyone ever has. And he doesn’t care to learn any better. Hollier can’t hit worth a damn and Ward hasn’t held off on a pitch since the Mayflower landed. It doesn’t matter what those two are doing with the infield when we Keep Trading Every. God. Damn. Shortstop… That’s Ever Fucking Played the Game Properly!!!
YM: (Dejected) They’re developing a culture though, don’t you think?? Everyone says Mickey McCallister is the real deal… and Ward has made the dugout fun again.
MM: Yeah. Fucking culture. Look. Those are professional ballplayers, no doubt about it. I’ve never seen anyone run in a square as fast as Hotshot McCallister. Or throw across the diamond faster than Elisha Ward. It’s why I still show up sometimes. And those two give a shit. But they don’t know the game the way those fellas over in New York do. You think our infield is running smoothly, you’ve never seen Tinker turn two. You’ve never seen them run through the entire batting order in one inning. Killers, kid. We don’t have ’em. Boston doesn’t have no culture.
YM: (Near tears) But the draft, they got a whole lineup of real ballplayers out of this one. They’re the next generation. My uncle saw James Gelder back when he was playing with the Reds, he hit Four bombs in one game!
MM: Don’t forget Mayday Mance. He’s been out all year, but that kid can strike the side out without putting his hat on. I hate to break it to you, kid. You got spirit, and you look like you played a little yourself. I love the game just like you do. But it doesn’t matter how great we think we did in the draft. We got four picks in the first two rounds but they ain’t got four pubes sprouted between ’em. These aren’t real ballplayers yet. Half of ’em are scrawnier than you are, and the other half are shorter. None of those boys is turning into Leo Mckenzie.
And this is the real truth, and I’m telling you this because you remind me of me back in ’86. Couldn’t get me to talk about damn near anything but the Banshees. But this league is starting to be something. Been around for a minute. Looks a lot like them docks out there. And the bigger they get, the clearer you can see it. There’s the big boats… And then there’s everybody else. You catch a couple fish, good for you. But it ain’t no whale. You know out in Philly, they hired two guys just to throw pitches during batting practice?
YM: Wait, what do the pitchers do then?
MM: They got their own catchers over in the bullpen, with their own coach. Teachin ’em pitches you never seen before. Heard they got smokes and free soda pop behind the dugout, too. These kids we got look real solid, but we’re just not taking care of ’em like these big clubs are. These days, they need three teams with a whole team behind each of those teams, and somebody to tell ’em how to hit the damn cutoff man and take a pitch outside every once in a while. I’d do it myself if this damned boat would hurry up and break down. I’d rather catch a Threlkeld fastball to the jaw than another damned codfish. Don’t think my wife would like that much… Now, how about one more round, kid?
Hey Kid! Where you goin???