A Day in the Dodgers Front Office: Part 1

Through a combination of intrepid reporting, patient source cultivation, and an errant Ned Colletti butt-dial (our office number is one digit away from the combination Pizza Hut/Men's Warehouse Colletti is known to frequent in Century City), Bochy's Oversized Pillow has obtained exclusive audio recordings of the internal deliberations of the Dodgers front office over the past three months. 

While most of the 200 plus hours of raw tape was rendered unintelligible by the sound of Juan Uribe eating his ritual pre- and post-game turducken, our researchers were able to piece together transcripts from several key meetings of Dodgers brass. Although by no means a full account of Dodger front office dynamics, these transcripts may help answer several nagging questions troubling the Dodgers' confused and yet cautiously optimistic fan base, such as "I'm glad Tony Gwynn Jr. isn't batting leadoff for a professional baseball team, but do I really have to root for Shane Victorino now?" and, "Holy shit, Crawford AND Beckett?" and "But seriously how much fucking money do these guys have?" 

Today we present the transcript from the morning of July 31, just hours before Major League Baseball's non-waiver trading deadline. The scene (from what we could piece together from the audio): Dodgers General Manager Ned Colletti sits in a Club Level boardroom in front of a speakerphone, an annotated copy of USA Today's sports section, and an iPhone. Seated across the table is Dodgers President and CEO Stan Kasten; seated next to Kasten is Professional Media Teflon Magic Johnson; and on the speakerphone is Guggenheim Partners CEO and Dodgers Chairman Mark Walter. Newly hired assistant to the general manager Mickey Hatcher (yeup, we actually hired him for a front office job, google that shit) is seated directly next to Colletti. We pick up a few minutes into the conversation, after Colletti, despite the assistance of Hatcher, has accidentally locked himself out of his iPhone. 

Kasten: Don't worry about it Ned, we'll just get you a fourth one. Let's get this thing started, shall we? Mark, we have Ned, Magic, Mickey and myself on the line today. It's 10 AM here in L.A., which means we have about three hours until the deadline.

Colletti: Siri, what time is it on the East Coast? Goddamn this thing. Kim used to know how to work this...

Kasten: It's 1 PM on the East Coast, Ned. And it's not going to work while you're locked out, just be patient. Anyway, Mark, we just wanted to consult with you on our strategy going into the deadline. We know you were somewhat surprised by the Hanley deal, and we wanted to make sure you were apprised of the negotiations we have currently underway.

Walter: I appreciate that, Stan. And let me just reiterate, I'm fully behind the Hanley deal, I'm just always a little concerned when we take on longer-term contracts and give up young pitching. But what we've been saying to the press is honest--I'm willing to spend whatever it takes to make us a perennial World Series contender. Or at least give the national media the impression that the franchise is slightly less dysfunctional than it was under Fox.

Colletti: Just to be clear, Mr. Walter, you're willing to spend whatever it takes?

Walter: Yes, Ned. Whatever it takes. I mean obviously within rea--...

Walter's speakerphone cuts off abruptly. While Karsten and Magic attempt to repair the connection, Hatcher is overheard giggling. 

Kasten: Mark? Hello, Mark? That's weird. Alright, it looks like we've lost him. Ned, because we're pressed for time, why don't you just tell me what you were planning on telling Mark.

A new voice enters the audio--Karsten's assistant, Ted.

Kasten's Assistant: Gentlemen, we have Bill Plaschke on the line. He says he's heard rumors there's been trouble communicating with Guggenheim.

Magic: No problem guys, I got this. Connect him to my cell. "Hey Bill, how you doin'? Hey, remember that time in '87 we did blow off Meg Ryan's ass in the back of Don Johnson's camaro?"

Magic leaves the room.

Colletti: Ted, could you bring us some caviar and a box of the finest Cubans you can find? [Pause] For me AND Stan, obviously.

Kasten's Assistant: Yeah sure, I can try.

Colletti: There's a $20K bonus for you if you can do it in the next hour.

Sounds of rapidly moving footsteps. 

Colletti: Viva Guggenheim!!!! Last year Oscar Meyer catered our holiday party, for Christ's sakes. And after Uribe left, we were down to triscuits and turkey bologna.

Kasten: Hehehe, yeup, things have changed. Ok, Ned, back to your deadline strategy. What do you got for me?

Colletti: As you know, Mickey and I have been working on some evidence-based criteria to evaluate whether we should pursue a particular player. This was the kind of stuff that Kim was great at, she used to make these Powerpoints with YouTube clips of players and the words would make this typewriter sound, it was so badass...

Kasten: Ned, the criteria..

Colletti: Yes. So Mickey and I have identified three primary criteria in evaluating possible deadline acquisitions. Mickey, go get the cue cards.

Sounds of shuffling. 

Colletti: Criteria 1--The player must be significantly underperforming when compared to career statistical norms. We would prefer players who are so severely underperforming that our own scouts and sabernerds have begun to question whether they're in permanent decline.

[Pause]

Kasten: Ok. So you can get them at a cheaper price, I suppose? Is this what we did with Hanley?

[ Pause]

Colletti: Um, yeah. That's exactly what we did with Hanley.  But money is no obstacle, you heard Mr. Walter say that. Anyway, Mickey, criteria 2.

Sounds of shuffling. 

Colletti: Criteria 2 states that the player must either be considered a "cancer" by teammates and the media, or have public work ethic issues, or be involved in a clubhouse altercation of some sort.

[Pause]

Kasten: So you're actively pursuing assholes?

Colletti: Exactly! This is what Sabean taught me in San Francisco, and it worked wonders. Those were the days, when we would fax our official trade requests and people "listened" instead of just texting all the time. Granted, everyone we acquired was roided up to hell. That was going to be criteria 3, until the whole Melky thing broke. Times have changed, I supposed. Hmm, I wonder if Melky's available...

Kasten: So what's criteria 3 now, if it's not BALCO?

Colletti: Oh right. Criteria 3--We want to make sure we're locked into these underperforming, chemistry-killing players for several years, not just half a season. And we want to make sure these contracts are enormous, like Vernon Wells/Barry Zito enormous.

[Pause]

Colletti: Believe me, Stan, this is what all the big-market teams do. If you want to win like the Yankees or Red Sox or Phillies, you have to act like the Yankees and Red Sox and Phillies.

Kasten: I'm pretty sure the Yankees don't  use cue cards.

Hatcher: Not cool, Stan.

Magic reenters the room. 

Magic: That was simple enough. Jesus, all those L.A. Times guys want to talk about is how great it was watching Steve Garvey have sex. Weird. Anyway, what did I miss?

Karsten's Assistant: Sorry, gentlemen. Mr. Johnson, it's T.J. Simmers. He says he got word that the Dodgers' front office strategy is predicated on roiding up its players...

Magic: God, where do they get this horseshit? Patch him through to my cell. "T.J., old buddy. Remember that time we tried to get Nancy Reagan to strip for us at Arsenio Hall's place?"

Magic is heard leaving the room.

Karsten's Assistant: And I'm still working on that caviar and Cubans for you, Mr. Colletti.

Colletti: Great. Also, I'd really like to eat with platinum silverwear, I saw Brian Cashman do it once...

Kasten: Ned....

Colletti: I can see you're not pleased, Stan. We also have what I've dubbed "Auxiliary Option B", which I think is pretty innovative. Mickey, go check on Auxiliary Option B.

Hatcher is heard leaving the room. 

Karsten: Look, Ned. We gave you the benefit of the doubt and kept you because the team made a couple nice playoff runs while you were here. Granted, most of the young talent on those teams pre-dated your arrival, and the list of atrocious moves you've made with  the limited resources you had reads like a Schindler's list of baseball signings--Andrew Jones, Jason Schmidt, Juan Uribe. I'll give you credit for Ethier though...

Colletti: Oh, that's Criteria 4. We've can't include Uribe in any deal, we've got to give him time to pan out...

Hatcher reenters the room. 

Hatcher: Auxiliary Option B is a no go, boss. The Commissioner's office asked if this was some sort of joke and then said some bullshit about preserving the integrity of the league.

[A prolonged pause]

Colletti: I wanted to buy the Oakland A's

Kasten: You mean you wanted Reddick or Cespedes?

Colletti: No. I wanted to buy the entire team and use it as our farm system. 

[Another prolonged pause ].

Hatcher: You still want me to check about the Royals?

Colletti: No Mickey, that's ok. 

Kasten's Assistant: Mr. Colletti, we have Theo Epstein from Chicago and Ruben Amaro Jr. from Philadelphia on the phone for you....

End of Part 1. 

Randy Wolf starting to suspect new contract incentives exist only to mock him

2009: A Year

Dec 15, 2009: Randy Wolf starting to suspect new contract incentives exist only to mock him

Milwaukee, WI--After signing a new three-year deal with the Milwaukee Brewers earlier this month, former Dodger starting pitcher Randy Wolf has become increasingly convinced that many of the provisions in his incentive-laden contract exist simply to insult him.

Wolf, who enjoyed one of the best seasons of his career last year as the Dodgers' most reliable and least physically intimidating starter, said he began to suspect a cruelly ironic tone in his contract after giving it a thorough read-over late last week.

"Let me first say that I have great respect for [Brewers general manager] Doug Melvin and all he's done for this organization," said Wolf. "That's why I'm confused as to why he would offer me his entire life savings and sex with his wife if I win the Cy Young."

Wolf cited other performance incentives that seemed vaguely derisive, including: renaming Miller Park "The Wolf Cage" if he is named National League starter for the All-Star Game; diplomatic immunity from state and federal law if he wins three postseason games; and a bonus of 80% of US GDP if Wolf breaks Nolan Ryan's single season record of 383 strikeouts.

Reached by phone, Melvin said not all of the bonuses were so wildly out of reach.

"Everytime he breaks 92 on the gun, tell him we'll get him his own jetliner," said Melvin, laughing hysterically. "Shit, make it 91. I bet he can crank it up to 91 once a season."

Wolf also said he was upset that despite the seeming excess of incentives and bonuses in the $30 million deal, he would receive no compensation yet again for winning MLB's "Bonaduce" award, given to the player in each league who both physically resembles Danny Bonaduce the most. Last year's AL winner, CC Sabathia, received a $10 million bonus from the fucking Yankees.

More bad baseball humor

Captain's Log, 7.22.09: 206 Days Since Last Employment

As previously advised, if you are not a fan please skip accordingly. If you are a fan, this is even more of an incentive to tab back to your Fantasy free agent page and continue plotting a regression for Alberto Callaspo's career VORP against left handed starting pitching in August in Kauffman Stadium in day games during the equinox while Democrats control two of the three branches of government and oil futures are between $70-$80 a barrel. You should really pick him up.

Vladimir Guerrero Desperately Restraining Himself During Intentional Walk

Los Angeles of Anaheim, CA--Angels slugger Vladimir Guerrero has summoned all manner of self-restraint and will power not to swing during this intentional walk.

With a man on second and two outs in the bottom of the eighth inning, Guerrero has already successfully taken two balls from Minnesota Twins reliever Jose Mijares, but the excruciating torment of not swinging seems to be taking its toll on the Angels star.

"See ball, do NOT hit ball," Guerrero muttered in Spanish while tapping himself on his helmet with his bat. "See ball, do NOT hit ball. Ehhhhhhhhhhh."

The walk is the latest test of Angel manager Mike Scioscia's efforts to impose some type of plate discipline on the former AL MVP. So far, the results have been mixed.

"We thought we were making headway in June, when he only swung once during two consecutive pitch-outs against the A's," said Scioscia. "Then he doubled off that pick-off attempt in Texas, and we lost months of progress."

Checking his swing on the third ball, Guerrero turned to the Angels dugout and pleaded, "Coach, pleeeaaase. I can hit it, I swear I can."

Scoscia hollered back, "You don't want to end up like Maicer, do you?", referring to the injured Maicer Izturis, whom Scioscia waterboarded after the Angels shortstop swung at a 3-0 pitch earlier in the game.

I hereby retract the latest post.

That is all.

Andre the Giant Dependent

Captain's Log, 6.29.09: 182 Days Since Last Employment

Note: For those who don't like baseball, please skip this post. My next one will involve cats...no really, it will.

I was originally set to post this entry Friday night, but as the Gods see fit not only to deny me the dignity of salaried employment but also the luxury of non-anachronistic comedy, the dude clubbed three homers and drove in six runs against the Mariners. However, as I only have about three semi-publishable ideas scribbled in my notebook at the moment, and the other two involve Michael Jackson-Farrah Fawcett child leukemia jokes, I've opted to go with the least objectionable option. Even if you include the three-homer anomaly, Ethier is hitting only .250 with 6 HR's and 23 RBI's in the post-Manny world, while he was hitting .317 with 8 HR and 27 RBI's before the suspension. So, without further ado, may I present the inner monologue of a typical Andre Ethier at-bat.

Scene: Bottom of the 6th inning, Dodgers trailing 3-2 to the Angels. James Loney smokes a clip and then leads off the inning like the stone-cold gangster he is and doubles into right-center. Russell Martin dutifully grounds out to the right side, advancing Loney to third, where he smokes another clip while telling Chone Figgins that he murders snitches everyday and that Chone's girlfriend better shut up about 'that one thing.'

PA Announcer: "Now batting, right fielder, number 16, Andre Ethier".

Ethier steps to the plate, while his favorite song, Nelly Furtado's "Fly Like a Bird", blasts over the stadium loudspeakers. He digs into the box.

Ethier Inner Monologue: "Ok Andre, settle in here, settle in, nice and easy, there you go, settle in. All you have to do is lift the ball in the air and get James home on a sac fly, tie this game up, and everybody will love you, just like they used to. Ok, who's pitching again? Lackey? He always starts you off with junk. Let's try taking this pitch, and getting ahead in the count, like Manny always....Don't lose your focus, just take this pitch."

Lackey zooms a fastball right down the heart of the plate. Strike one.

Ethier Inner Monologue: "Dammit. That was right in your wheelhouse. It's ok, everybody guesses wrong now and then....well, everybody except you know who. He would have crushed that pitch. He's so strong... Remember that time he hoisted you up on his shoulders in the clubhouse after the Cubs series, and let you play with his dreadlocks, and then afterwards he took you to the park and bought you your first ice cream sandwich? I wonder what he's doing right about..."

The umpire motions for Ethier to stop looking vacantly into the Dodgers dugout and step back into the box. Ethier obliges.

Ethier Inner Monologue: "Dammit Andre, focus!!! You have a job to do here. Ok, you're sitting 0-1, he just opened with the fastball. He has to go to the splitter now. Be ready for it, probably low and away. Man, he could never go low and away on Manny...Stop it Andre. Ok, get ready, here it comes."

Lackey pounds a fastball on the inside corner, strike two. Ethier steps out of the box and looks up at third base coach Larry Bowa, who along with Loney is slowly mouthing "hit the fucking ball". Ethier takes a couple practice swings and then looks at the clubhouse seats behind home plate, where Alyssa Milano is also slowly mouthing "hit the fucking ball."

Ethier Inner Monologue: "Man, Alyssa is so pretty. She's like an angel...a baseball angel."

Ethier mimics the "Angels in the Outfield" wing flap to Milano, who in turn clasps her head in her hands and sinks down further in her seat.

Ethier Inner Monologue: "Stupid! God you suck with girls. You know who is AWESOME with girls? Manny. Remember that time we were at Mr. Chow's, and Manny invited those two girls over from the bar, just like that, nothing to it? And then we all talked for hours and hours, and that one girl Angela said you had really delicate features, like a half-Asian Kate Moss. She was awesome. I wonder where her and her sister and Manny went after I paid?"

The umpire again motions Ethier to step into the box.

Ethier Inner Monologue: "Fuck me. Loney is gonna beat the shit out of me again if I don't get this run in. Goddammit Andre! You need to get over him. You can hit just as well as you did without him. You're the same man, aren't you? Aren't you?!?!?!...Am I?"

Ethier lunges at a splitter in the dirt, missing it by a good foot and a half. He sulks back to the dugout.

Ethier Inner Monologue: "July third, July third, July third, July third..."