"There's no predicting baseball."

 

Brian Cashman slowly unwrapped an Auerbachian victory cigar and lit it up, as he watched the national media corps rush into the press room after the last night of the 2022 World Series. He said nothing, just listening to them clamor for his attention for a long minute, before he let a Cheshire-cat grin slowly spread out around his stogie.

Then he began.

"You know, putting together a champion baseball team," he said, "is a lot like putting together a jigsaw puzzle."

"Mr. Cashman! Mr. Cashman! What was the final piece???"

"I think you have to say it was getting Tots Bader."

"Do you agree that the catch he made tonight was better than the one Willie Mays made in the World Series?"

"Comparisons are odious." Cashman replied, blowing out a large, lazy smoke ring and frowning at first. Then the grin returned. "But...not even Willie Mays made catches like that three innings in a row!"

"Mr. Cashman! What do you have to say to your critics now?!"

"Everyone has a right to their own opinion. You come to the ballpark, you pay your money, you have the right to express yourself—within limits, of course."

"But it got pretty bad there, back near the end of August, when the team seemed dead in the water. All those 'Ev-il Weas-el' chants. Wasn't that over the line?"

Cashman shrugged and held his hands out, palms up.

"Look, it just shows that the fans care. And I share their frustration. It's just that sometimes they don't see the whole picture. That's my job."

"The whole jigsaw puzzle?"

"Right. I mean, we just needed everybody to get better. Once we got Giancarlo back—"

"Is it true he's dating J-Lo these days?"

"No comment. Then DJ and Rizzo. And of course, Hicksie—"

"Who nobody knew was actually playing on a broken leg."

"Right. He kept that quiet. I think some of our fans are feeling a little embarrassed about just how much they got on him, once they found that out. But he's all better now—in case you didn't catch that, watching him steal home tonight. Again!"

"Would you agree that Gleyber Torres' postseason was better than any that Derek Jeter ever had?"

"Derek Jeter? Who's that?"  

(laughter)

"No, really the big thing was getting the pitching together. A lot of people—I mean, a lot a lot a lot of people said Frankie Montas couldn't pitch outside of Oakland. I think we proved them wrong this fall. I don't know where we would've been without Effross as the closer."

"How about the games Clarke Schmidt pitched this month?"

"You know, some people wanted us to keep him up in New York, just to see him pitch a little relief. I said no. I saw the potential in him. I said, 'Take him down to Scranton, get him stretched.' Then they came back and said, 'Okay, he's stretched.' And I said, 'No, stretch him some more.' So they stretched. And I think you saw the results."

"Whose idea was it to have John Sterling manage, once Boone went down with appendicitis?"

"That was all my idea, of course."

(Sound from the back of the room of a muffled scream of protest, followed by calls of 'Security!' and the sound of truncheons hitting flesh and bone.)

(Cashman, pretending to scan the room): "Alex?"

(more laughter)

"And how about Suzyn Waldman, as the first ever, female third-base coach?"

"Here on the Yankees, we're all about supporting women breaking those glass ceilings."

"Donaldson looked dead to rights when she waved him around third in the ninth, but that throw got away."

"As we all know, Josh Donaldson is a very special ballplayer. And I'm happy to announce, we just gave him a two-year contract extension."

"What about your own future here, Mr. Cashman? Isn't your contract up?"

(Hal Steinbrenner enters, dressed in an elf costume. There is astonished laughter. Hal holds up a contract.)

"Hey, Hal, what with the get-up?" Hal smiles grimly.)

(Cashman, grinning) "Oh, that's just a little bet we had! Whattaya got for me, Hal?"

"Today, the New York Yankees would like to announce that we are offering Brian Cashman a new, six-year contract, at double his previous salary!" (pulls out a pen, hands it to Cashman) "You can sign right now, if you care to!"

(Cashman stands to embrace Hal—then sits back down)

"That is so kind of you, Hal. My people will get back to you in the morning."

"Mr. Cashman! One more question! What about Joey Gallo? How did you arrange it so that he was hitting for the Dodgers with two out in the bottom of the ninth and the bases loaded?"

"Well, as a great man once said: 'There's no predicting baseball.' Unless you're a genius!"

"Who said that, Mr. Cashman?"

"Why, I believe it was me, of course!"

(More sounds of muffled screaming and truncheons from the back of the room.)