L.H. Thompson, Manchester Boutique

Saturday, July 25, 2009

(Ed. note: Halfway through our ill-fated journey to Aurora for the 3^rd annual PEBA All-Star Game, I called Eric Dupree, managing editor of the Boutique, from a hotel somewhere in Illinois.  He was more agitated than usual.  It seems that just after Morris and I had left, a confidential package – sans return address – had arrived at Boutique headquarters.  Upon opening it, Dupree discovered a Moleskine notepad with a yellow sticky affixed to the cover.  Scrawled in orange crayon was the following: “Let the truth be told.”  Appalled at its contents, Dupree arranged for it to be shipped to me via overnight mail.  The notebook was my companion for the remainder of our journey, its grotesque ramblings the product of an addled and diseased mind.

Thus, as I lash together the sordid tale that makes up the second half of our all-American travelogue, racing to meet its publishing deadline, I present here the contents of that weathered Moleskine.  It goes without saying that reader discretion is advised – LHT.)

March 22, 2009:
God help me!  Artie has just issued a statement saying that expects us to finish .500 this year!  How could he?  He knows that this is only year 2 of the 5-year plan!  Oh, what am I going to do?  Morris has been going around telling people that we’d be lucky to win 70 games this year.  Did he get to Artie?  No, Artie would never meet with him without telling me first.  Who else?  Artie always uses me as his go-between with all employees.  There’s no one else… Wait, maybe that hippie journalist?  What’s his name?  Thomas?  Jefferson?  Lincoln?  Joplin?  Dylan?  Aargh!

March 23, 2009:
Sleepless night.  What to do, what to do?  Artie said he’d open up his wallet.  Hell, I don’t know who to sign.  Morris is useless.  Always talking about how we should have held on to Jude Pew.  Useless, totally useless.  What to do…?  Wait… wait, wait, wait.  Yes!  That’s it!  Right in front of my nose the whole time.  I’ll invite the press; yes, yes, yes!  Big news, big news!  It’s never failed me: The Method!!

March 24, 2009:
What a day!  Three big signings yesterday!  The press never knew what hit them!  Ha!  Even Morris has shut his trap!

April 30, 2009:
What a win tonight!  Hara won again!  And that Zarate character can really get on base!  My method!  My sweet, precious method!  Not even that dirty hippie has written a negative word about us so far!  Ha!  Maybe we’ll break $61 million this year!  No way Artie can fire me now!

May 17, 2009-
Hot damn, hot damn, hot damn!!!  What a win today!  Suck it, Hitmen!!!  Ha!  Hara won again!  Morris told me that he couldn’t throw batting practice!  Heh, heh, heh!!  And I got DeJesus back!

Some nice young ladies dropped by the office after the game.  They seemed very impressed with my moves.

May 23, 2009:
13-8 win over Gloucester!!  Hester!  Lara!!  Yamauchi!!  Warriors all!!  Champions!!  First place, first place, first place!!  Went on the post-game show tonight and gloated!  Came up with a new saying.  When asked about how we managed this, I summed up the success with three little words: “Suck it, Cooley!”  Note to self: have banners made up and distributed during next home stand.  One more note to self: rub it in by extending Morris’s contract!

Groupies were late.

June 21, 2009:
9-2 over the Hitmen!  Even Vicente León is into the act!  We’re a juggernaut, an irresistible force!

Groupies were late again.

June 23, 2009:
Hester has a fractured skull!  Oh God, no: don’t do this to me!  We’re right at the edge.  Who’s left to play 2B?  Ríos blew out his knee.  Nakayama can’t play every day.  Snake Eyes?  No, not him.  He’s a dirty hippie.  Who, who, who???  Jesus, maybe John will have some ideas this weekend.  He’s a genius; he’ll know what to do.

Where are those f&*(^*& groupies?!

(Ed. note: The madness ended here.  God help us all if the Maulers happen to win the Pan-Atlantic.)