Once the team was back on our charter flight again, everyone avoiding me best as possible, I opened up the report on the first day of the trial online, which was filled with almost nothing. The biggest news was that the jury seemed very likely to convict Shane Youman on counts of murder and illegal possession of weapons. The next two days would be the ending of the trial, possibly giving Youman 25 years in prison.
As for our game, it was one of the worst yet. It was our 5th lose in a row, putting as at 18 and 32, 7 games back. In the first, Yoslan Herrera promptly allowed two runs on 2 hits and 2 walks. This was one of the most frustrating things to me, when a pitcher gives up runs in the first inning before our offense can get started. We managed another run in the 4th, when the bottom of our order put together 4 hits to tie it. We had the confidence back, you could tell just by being in our dugout, but once again our pitchers did nothing to help our offense. Steven Pearce was given a gift for a double to start the inning, then 2 straight singles scored him. The Pirates had a 3-2 lead back. I picked up the stool I was sitting on and thrust it down at the ground with both hands. The chair popped back up and nearly hit the dugout ceiling, as I stormed off into the clubhouse.
Yolsan Herrera, 2-4 on the season with a 3.53 ERA so far. He's been one of our best pitchers this season.
It happened once again in the 7th. James Desi had a great double as a pinch-hitter to lead off, and Bubba Bell had the sacrifice fly to bring him in two batters later. I signaled for Denny Bautista after Herrera had been removed for Desi, and he got one out and walked two. I brought In Brian Tallet to face the lefty, LaRoche, and the very first pitch, LaRoche hit a towering homer to left. I was as frustrated as possible, asking god what I had done to deserve such cruel punishment, and looked for the first opportunity to take it out on someone else. On the third batter of the 8th, Jesus Guzman grounded to third on a very close play. Usually, I don’t argue since umpires are trained to make calls like that and I’m not. I rushed out to Mark Jenson, a rookie umpire, and screamed right up next to him, “I plead the eighth!”
“Wha….” His voice trailed off, very confused at what I just said.
“Come on; get me out of this hell-hole!” I screamed, though trying to channel my yelling just at Jenson so no one else could hear, “Toss me! Now!”
“Oh, what about my call?!” He yelled back, as if we were really arguing.
“It was great! Now, do as I say! Let’s go!” Thinking back to that old Lou Piniella ad, the one aired before he retired and bought an Arena Football Team, as Mark gave the over-dramatic hand gesture and I quietly said, “Thanks,” and walked away.
For dramatic effect, I threw my cap down and went to my office.
I didn’t care about how the rest of the game went, unlike most of the time when I’d manage from my office, and put Alex Cora in charge. We ended up losing 6-3, putting us 29th in the league in runs scored per game and 28th in ERA. I was going to chew out the pitchers for always blowing everything the offense ever did, and for being worthless piles of crap, wasting all the team’s money by drinking energy drinks, but they had just had one of those two days ago, plus I was too tired with another flight coming up. At least it was at home for 5 more days, I reminded myself, and took the gun away from my head and saved it for another time.
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Juan Pierre, our team MVP for the second straight month.
Originally Posted by BINGLEBOP
