Thursday, October 6, 2011

My One Problem With Dave Martinez


There haven't been any new developments with the White Sox and the team's search for a new manager, though I expect that to change in the coming days. From everything I've been reading and hearing, Dave Martinez is still the front runner.

Which is fine by me. As I've already made clear a few times here, I like the idea of Martinez being the next manager. I don't need Terry Francona just because he has a big name, and I don't think any of us need Tony La Russa because we don't want to see John Danks batting eighth in the lineup.

That being said, there's still one thing about Martinez that I can't get past. One thing that annoys the hell out of me.

Everybody calls him Davey.

And he's cool with it. In fact, he encourages it.

Well, sorry, Davey, but if you do become the next White Sox manager, I'm not calling you Davey. You're going to be Dave. I feel like an idiot saying the name Davey, and I have no idea how you can stand to be called it all the time.

I don't know, but when I hear the name I can't help but think of kids in coonskin caps and claymation cartoons from the 1960s telling me how awesome the Bible is.

I'm sorry, but when I'm watching the White Sox play, I don't want to be thinking about stop-animated Christians, I want to be thinking about how I can second guess our manager, and if that manager's name is Davey then I'm going to have a much easier time doing that.

I mean, think about it. You're at your job. The one you're at every day, and you're getting a new boss.  You aren't sure what to expect, and a part of you is worried that the guy could be a total asshole.

Then he shows up, introduces himself, and he seems nice enough. But then he tells you to call him Davey.

Are you going to respect that guy?

I mean, just try saying this to yourself without wanting to laugh. "I better get that project done, or else Davey is going to be really mad at me!"

You couldn't do it, could you? No, of course you couldn't, because there's nothing in this world less imposing than a guy named Davey.

I can see it now, Jake Peavy has thrown 125 pitches and has only recorded one out in the fifth inning. The bases are loaded, and Martinez feels it's time to make a pitching change. So he heads out to the mound to take Peavy out.

Martinez: "Well, Jake it just hasn't been your night. I'm taking you out, you'll get em next time."

Pierzynski: "Yeah, dude. Just don't have it tonight."

Peavy just stares at Martinez

Martinez: "Give me the ball, Jake. Your night is over."

Peavy: "Fuck you, I'm not going anywhere. I got this. I'M GONNA BULLDOG THROUGH."

Martinez: "No, you're done. Let's not make a scene."

Peavy: "GRIT. TOUGHNESS. BULLDOG. I AIN'T GOIN NO WHERE. THIS IS MY GAME, I'M FINISHING IT. INTENSITY!"

Pierzynski: "You guys wanna see the wrestling moves I've been working on? I got this new finisher I call 'The Polish Press.'"

Martinez: "Jake, you've given it all you got. It's just not your night. Look, Stewart's already come in from the bullpen."

Zach Stewart: "Sup."

Pierzynski: "You wanna see my wrestling moves, Zach?"

Stewart: "Fuck yeah I wanna see your wrestling moves."

Martinez: "GOD DAMN IT. NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR WRESTLING MOVES. Jake, you're out, give me the ball."

Peavy: "Fuck you, Davey. DETERMINATION. NEVER GIVE UP. TEAR A MUSCLE."

Let's fast forward a few hours. Martinez left Peavy in the game, and he literally tore his arm off his shoulder. Not the muscle, his arm. That thing was just laying there on the mound, blood spurting out of the hole in Peavy's torso where his arm used to be.

Peavy is now sitting behind a microphone, his stump wrapped extra tight.

Scott Merkin: "Jake, did you have any feeling that there was trouble with your arm before the injury? You'd thrown a lot of pitches."

Peavy: "Yeah, well, I told Davey that he better take me out, but he didn't listen. Told him there were problems, but I didn't want to make it sound like I was complaining. You'll have to ask Davey why he kept me in there."

Joe Cowley: "DON'T YOU THINK YOUR ARM WOULD STILL BE ATTACHED IF OZZIE GUILLEN WAS STILL HERE?"

Peavy: "Yep."

Seriously, Dave. This may all seem like a joke to you, but you'd be surprised how easily this could all happen. So do all of us a favor.

When you do become the next White Sox manager, introduce yourself to everybody as Dave. We'll all be a lot better off for it.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Feel free to vent about how much any player sucks, but no hate speech directed at anybody, be it a player or a fellow commenter.