We're Not in Kansas Anymore

IAN

But you promised us we’d all be stars. You promised Shelley at bats. Joba, Phil and I could start. You’re a very bad manager.


PROFESSOR GIRARDI

Oh, no, child. I’m a very good manager. I’m just a very bad wizard.

Why, Shelley, anybody can swing a bat. Every pusillanimous creature that crawls on the earth or slinks through slimy seas can swing a bat! Back where I come from we have fat former all-stars, millionaires, who can’t hit better than you can. But they have one thing you haven't got! An eight year guaranteed contract!

Therefore, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Universitatus Steinbrennerius e plurbis Giambi, I hereby confer upon you an honorary lifetime no-trade contract. You are now Doctor of Pavanology.

SHELLEY

Wow. I feel smarter.

"A fly ball hit into the infield with two runners on and less than two outs is immediately called and out, and the runners can advance at their own discretion."

Oh joy, rapture! I've got a contract! What about Joba? He’s in the bullpen.

GIRARDI

As for you, Joba, my fine hulking friend, you're a victim of disorganized thinking. You are under the unfortunate delusion that simply because you pitch in the eighth inning, you cannot start. Back where I come from, we have men who are called specialists. Once a game, they retire the side, and they have no more stuff than you have. But! They have one thing that you haven't got!

A ring! Because without one, nobody cares who pitches in the eighth. Therefore -- for conduct, extraordinary valor, conspicuous bravery against lake gnats, I award you the Cleveland Double Cross. You are now a member of the World Champion New York Football Giants.

JOBA

Oh -- Oh -- shucks, folks, I'm speechless! But what about Phil?

GIRARDI

As for you, Phil, my highly touted friend, you want a year without injuries. Well, arms will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable. Back where I come from there are pitchers who do nothing all day but collect paychecks. They are called Carl...er -- er -- Pavan -- er, DL candidates. And their arms are no greater than yours. But! They have one thing you haven't got!

A diagnosis! Therefore, in consideration of your attempts to pitch, I take pleasure at this time in presenting you with a cracked rib MRI, which means nobody can blame you for getting hammered.

And remember, my eternal future prospect, that a pitcher is not judged by how many runs he gives up, but by how many runs his team scores for him.

HUGHES

Ohh, my ribs. They hurt. Feel it! Thank you. Hey, but what about Ian?

JOBA

Yeah, Ian next!

IAN KENNEDY

I don't think there's anything in that trainer kit for me. Unless you have some HGH?

GIARDI

Hmm. Well, you force me into a cataclysmic decision. The only way to get Ian back to pitching well to send him to the heartlands myself. To Scranton! You know, I was bred in the minor leagues myself.


IAN

Oh, will you? Could you? Oh -- but are you a clever enough manager....

GIARDI

Child, you always had the ability to get back. And in Scranton, you will. You just need to throw strikes.

Now, close your eyes and repeat after me…

There’s no plate like home. There’s no plate like home.

IAN

There's no plate like home.

There's no plate like home...