I can call you, Mikey, right? Are we on that level yet? I hope so. Lord knows over the years we’ve called you many things on this blog. We’ve made cracks about your Tommy Bahama addiction, questioned if you are colorblind and as recently as this week we commented on your choice of sweater vests, a fashion you probably haven’t worn since your frat days at Lambda Lambda Lambda. We’ve pasted your head on to Mr. Freeze, the Lord Marshall from Chronicles of Riddick and made public callings for any photos real or otherwise of you dressed as an Oompa-Loompa. Hey, it happens to the best of us really. Especially if you look like Oswald Cobblepot.
But all that is in the past. Today I want to cross the river on a bunch of submerged rocks, meet you in the middle and shake your hand. Thank you, Mikey, thank you. Thank you for what you have done with this team. I don’t know how you did it. I don’t know how you took this used condom of a team and made it into the stud it is today. I’m sure you’ll go off on the dummy card answers of “building a good farm system” and surrounding yourself with the right people and players. Whatever. How did you really do it, Mike? How many virgins did you have to sacrifice?
No, don’t tell me. I understand. You have to keep some trade secrets to yourself. It made you the peacock of a man you are today and today I can see your plumage is in full bloom and rightfully so. You are the General Manager of the NL East Division Champions. Man, I can only imagine what that feels like and in such relatively short time too.
Do you remember the first time we met, Mikey? Do you remember that day? The first day I ever met you I think was back on a Bloggers Day at Nationals back in either 2008 or 2009. Stan Kasten was still with the team and he made a grand entrance into the blogger’s press box with you two or three steps behind probably silently wondering if any of the bloggers had any sort of communicable diseases. Teddy was in the box too and I remember thinking at the time you looked like a member of the Lollipop Guild standing next to the big cartoony brute. Kasten played the salesman of course. Any sort of technical info he handed over to you and you answered it with speed, charisma and intelligence. Everyone in that box quickly got the feeling that while Kasten owned the circus, it was actually your show.
But we both know talking the talk is different from walking the walk. So when you were hired as GM supreme, I found the move rather lackluster because at the time I felt the Nationals needed someone who wasn’t a cowboy (JimBo) but someone who could light a fire under the team’s ass. Face it, they were crap back then.
You’ve made mistakes. Admit it, you have. Nyjer Morgan. Matt Stairs. Brad Lidge. Yunesky Maya. Most likely Chien-Ming Wang. But you’ve had victories, small on the great scale of things, but when put together they created a formidable team, the first formidable team since what? The 1930s?
You’ve done good, Mikey. I just want you to know that. While we give you a bunch of guff on this blog (and we will continue to do so) we are pulling for you and hoping you know what you are doing. So far, it looks like you do and we appreciate your hard work.
However, don’t let this all go to your head. You still have work to do, this season and beyond. Right now we might be massaging your ego and sending you flowers, but you know baseball fans are a fickle bunch and you have to keep showing results and progress.
How quickly one can go from wearing the Nature Boy’s robes to having your head fitted to Jabba The Hutt. Just keep that in mind, Rizz. Congratulations again. I owe you a beer.
Sincerely with love and affection,