FRIDAY AFTERNOON
When you're a baseball player, your manager isn't your only boss. There's also the GM, the President slash CEO, and maybe then an owner. We had a large ownership group until September, one whose size make it hard to keep track of all the ass that was needed to be kissed. That's why I always kept a media guide in my locker. If some stranger in a suit ambled nearby, I could pull out the guide, find a picture and make my match. It was like speed dating, only in my case, my potential suitor could reject me by releasing me outright or trying to trade me for someone with better dieting habits.
The days of my wearing out my media guide should be over now. We have one main owner, Mrs. Joan Delaney, who loves the game, loves New York and apparently loves me. I know this because she told me.
After Friday's press conference and gourmet pizza lunch, Vanessa (back from her shopping spree) and I had a sit-down with Mrs. Delaney in her new office, which wasn't new in terms of construction. It was just new to her. The office and stadium are both 47 years old. You'll be happy to hear about her two priorities for the 2008 season:
1. To win a World Championship
2. To get the team a new stadium
Neither will be easy, but she's confident about #1 after the team's "reconciliation" (her words) with me and some other moves she's authorized GM Alvin Kirby to make. I flinched a little when she said she was willing to spend what it takes to win now. Vanessa kept a stone face, but she knew if I hadn't caved so quickly, we'd be $9 million richer and I wouldn't be committed to sitting next to my father in the broadcast booth in 2009 (although she admits ratings should be great when fans get a whiff of the relationship "Red" Scott and I share).
The new stadium might be even more difficult than winning a championship, if only because Mrs. Delaney and the mayor don't see eye-to-eye about much. But our crosstown rivals were just given zoning approval and a $200 million match by the City to begin construction for their new place, so one would think we were next. One would think.
After leaving, it was time to meet up with Julia, Grace and my parents at Chelsea Piers for our annual three-hour Thanksgiving Sports-A-Thon to raise money for M.S. The event was our biggest yet. We raised almost $347,000. I need to thank those of my teammates who were able to make it, the Chelsea Piers staff, and surprise guest, Mrs. Delaney. I have to admit, she looked a little strange when she entered wearing her hamster fur scarf, but it was cold outside. She asked me if I wanted to try it on, but I couldn't. Rodents give me nightmares, especially nocturnal ones (meaning both rodents and nightmares). Julia and Grace thought it was kind of disgusting, a bunch of dead Chuck E. Cheeses straddling the neck of my team's new owner. When they were young they had pet gerbils. Once I explained the differences between hamsters and gerbils (gerbils don't have sweat glands, hamsters are loners), they felt a little better. They're waiting for the return call from PETA just in case.
We got home around 1:30 AM on Saturday, all of us tired. I was especially exhausted after being up since 5:17 in the early AM morning. But I felt good about myself, raising money, having some good talks with the team - my employers, after all - and continuing to raise money for a great cause. Saturday was going to be busy as well, so as I slapped my head against my pillow, I tried hard not to dream of four-legged creatures that could fit in the palm of my hand yet still kill me if they found 2479 friends who all wanted to attack me at the same time. I was glad I'd gotten up so early to work out that morning. It gave me the subconscious strength to be able to run away.
Tomorrow: The completion of last weekend's trilogy recap.
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