Warrior Beat: Duluth Times Blog
Posted: Mon Mar 11, 2019 5:33 am
Mandy Scott, Staff Writer
Boy, that was quick.
I’ve never seen a sea evaporate in fast-motion, but if I had, I might be better prepared for waking up to our city’s hopes and dreams drift heavenward in the form of a loaded trade block:
New outsider GM Ricky McCoy made no secret about the team’s financial pickle, telling KWAR’s Dean Alexander that the Warriors “bet the farm” after 2026 and “lost big time.” This, to the surprise of virtually no one but Ricky McCoy, did not resonate well with the fanbase. However the Colonel meant the interview to go, he woke up to a militarized social media battalion with blood in their eyes. As the old Irving Berlin tune goes, “Gee, I wish I was back in the Army.”
But let’s be honest, Duluth. We can’t keep Donny. Sitting at 4th in the Great Lakes, the 2nd-priciest team in baseball is losing hand over fist in ticket sales. So much, in fact, that so far the new 10,000 seats are used mostly as target practice by the migrating gaggles.
Plenty of ink’s been spilled on how to solve the financial problem—and at every realistic turn, the already-overpriced Mercer has to go, regardless of is slugging percentage. And I think McCoy’s strategy is to tempt a richer team into salary-swapping for a lesser version of Don Mercer.
But Lopez? Arguably the best closer in the Division? 11 Mil is a lot less than 33, and he’s in arbitration. Bedell? His Slider could take the eyebrows off a tree frog. Thomas makes the most sense—you don’t pitch 6.75 ERA for $25 Million.
It’s a reality, folks—we are in full rebuild mode. A current estimate of $72 Million in the hole, should the team not trim the fat, must have the Bong family setting the rooms on fire behind those closed double-oak doors.
Crunching the numbers, The Warriors have only $14 Million worth of salaries due for negotiation this year (Read: Goodbye Phil Burns) and $37.8 Million growing upward into arbitration. There’s been some speculation that McCoy will impose the ole’ “no-arbitration” austerity measures of ‘25, but so far nothing official’s come out of that. (With Mercer leaving, giving up Pratt would ensure the Warriors never score more than 2 runs per game ever again).
A keen reporter might also observe that Ricky McCoy isn’t just concerned with money—he’s signaling a culture shift. Reliable rumors of a trade for Shin Seiki’s Vincente Medina (unconfirmed) coalign with McCoy’s dialogue of “culture” and “honesty” in the clubhouse . After all, it’s no secret that this particular clubhouse is a morale dumpster fire.
Can McCoy balance the books, draw fresh talent, and redesign the player dynamic? Probably not. But he’s certainly trying. And he shouldn’t expect a warm reception from a fanbase who can still see game seven of 2026 when we close our collective eyes. We’re a cold breed, after all. And we refuse to tolerate two things: Wisconsin, and strangers who trash-talk our Warriors. Do us all a favor and chill out.
Welcome to Minnesota, Colonel McCoy.