Pelfrey is pitching pretty well tonight, maybe he can throw a shutout - oh crap home run Markakis. No big deal David, we just need to think of a way to show leadership. I've got it! Let's go out to the mound and say some b.s. to the big guy and pat him on the back.
:::David walks out to mound:::
David: Hey Mike, whassup?!
Mike: Uh nothing, what do you want?
David: Do me a favor Mike. The New York media and idiot fans have been making a big deal out about my supposed lack of leadership, so could you humor the cameras a bit and act like I'm saying some meaningful leaderish things to you?
Mike: Sure David, whatever you say. As long as we're still on for a night out at the Inner Harbor and you're paying. Parnell and Church are in too.
David: Of course. I'm talking through my glove right now because Cora does that and people seem to think that's what gritty veterans do. Expect a dugout "confrontation" after you're taken out of the game where I say pretty much the same thing. Just act like I'm Splinter and you're the Ninja Turtles. I hope you can hear me. If you can't, just commit a balk to signal me and I'll talk louder.
Well that oughta keep the talk radio types off my back for awhile right? A couple serious looking exchanges with 25 year-old Pelf, a few back slaps and a win does the trick everytime. I'm basically Wally Backman, except I'm ridiculously more valuable.
Location: David Wright's Milwaukee hotel suite, July 1st
Situation: David in the bathroom, preparing for an egg-white breakfast cooked by his 5 bikini-clad supermodel girlfriends
I live in the Grission Building on W. 81st Street on the 9th floor. My name is David Wright and I bat 3rd, except when Jerry bats me 5th. I'm 26 years old. I believe in taking care of myself and a balanced diet and a rigorous weight lifting routine. In the morning if my face is a little puffy I'll put on an ice pack while taking batting practice. I can hit 1000 homers now. After I remove the ice pack I use a deep pore cleanser lotion-
Supermodel: David, breakfast is ready!
David: OK, coming Svetlana!
Supermodel: My name is Heidi. And some moustached Italian guy who used to play for the Mets is complaining about your leadership.
David: Is it Piazza? No way it's Piazza, they used to complain about his lack of rah-rah leadership, despite leading the team to back-to-back playoff appearances.
Supermodel: No, it's Franco.
Unbelievable. I thought my show in Baltimore was enough to keep the fools off my 7 WAR back. Do I really need to go visit the pitcher every game to satiate the masses? Are closed-door meetings the secret to success? Should I bash the water cooler every time I make an out like Paul O'Neill used to do? I'm doing my honest best to show some leadership, especially with Delgado injured, but there's only so much that can be done short of signing General Norman Schwarzkopf. And let's see him play the hot corner! Should my pearls of wisdom be powerful enough to prevent Stokes from giving up grand slams? Did Keith Hernandez and his leadership single-handedly make Dwight Gooden lead the league in strikeouts in from 1984-1985? I really don't think so, but these fans on talk radio and message boards seem to prefer screaming about my leadership rather than the 3 #5 (#6?) pitchers currently in our starting rotation. Switch our 2008 bullpen with the Phillies 2008 bullpen and I'm probably sitting here stroking my World Series ring like Dr. Evil, and no one would even bring up my leadership. Alright, let's come up with a reply to this joker Franco. He's making Gary Carter look intelligent at this point. I've got it, but I'll save it for after the game.
Location: Mets locker room in Milwaukee, July 1st, following Mets 1-0 win over the Brewers
Situation: David Wright speaking with reporters about John Franco's comments
David: [To reporters] With all due respect to Johnny, he doesn't know what's going on in this clubhouse. I don't feel the need to defend myself as a leader if the guys in here respect me and think of me as a leader. I don't worry myself with outside people, saying what they're going to say. It doesn't matter to me.
David: Svetlana, fetch my abacus!