BEHIND THE SCENES with Fred Wilpon, Jeff Wilpon, and Sandy Alderson: A One-Act Play

 The “2 Guys” team recently enjoyed unparalleled access to the inner workings of Mets management. Here’s our report . . .

Scene: Fred Wilpon’s office. Fred Wilpon sits at a ramshackle desk made of old boards, duct tape, and cinderblocks. He gazes misty-eyed through the dusty pages of the 1954 Lafayette High School Yearbook. Fred’s son, Jeff Wilpon, is sprawled on the floor, surrounded by crayons and scrap paper. Jeff is wearing a white shirt, loose tie, and jacket with matching schoolboy shorts, looking like Angus Young’s pasty-faced twin. A knock on the door and in enters . . .

SANDY ALDERSON: Fred, I’m glad I caught you.

FRED WILPON (ducks under desk, speaks in a ghost-like voice): Fred is not heeeeere. Go awaaaaay.

SANDY: Don’t worry, Fred. I’m not here to ask for money.

FRED (returns to chair): That’s good, because that ship has sailed, my friend! The cow is out of the barn! That shit’s been shot! Can I get you something to eat. A cracker? A glass of water? Tap, of course.

SANDY: No, I’m fine, thanks. I realize that times are tough.

FRED (muses): Did I ever tell you how Omar used to come into this office? I swear he used to pull some kind of voodoo magic on me. He’d start talking and I’d go into a trance . . . and before I knew it, I was writing checks to Third World countries. That’s why I like you so much, Sandy. You never ask for money! What’s that phrase you use so often?

SANDY: One of the key tenets of our approach, blah blah blah?

FRED: No, that’s not it.

SANDY: We do understand and are actively engaged in blah blah blah?

FRED (shakes head): Nooo.

SANDY: Still exploring internal options before blah blah blah?

FRED: Bingo, that’s the one! Exploring internal options! Ha-ha, love it! You know what else I like about you, Sandy? You’ve got the Good Face! You can make burnt toast smell like, um, er . . . toast that isn’t burnt!

SANDY: Obviously, you’ve seen my work in San Diego.

FRED (laughs): That whole speech you gave the other day about wanting to keep R.A. Dickey, and how much you like him, but then leaking the organization’s “fears” — quote/unquote — about his age and injuries and -–“

SANDY (laughs): Don’t forget the anonymous GM tipster who opined that Dickey will demand 4 years at $15 million per.

FRED: That was you?!

SANDY (grins, blows on fingernails): It’s not lying, exactly. I see it more as the art of rolling up your sleeves and gently massaging a pile of poop. You’ve got to get your hands in the muck. Well, not my hands! That’s why we pay Ricciardi and DePodesta.

FRED (points): It’s like every time you talk about Jason Bay still possibly being a productive player!

SANDY: Lots of massage. Big, huge, steaming piles of poop! (Laughter.)

FRED (leans in, hopeful): Speaking of Jason . . . ?

SANDY (shakes head): No, sorry. He won’t surrender those photographs. Really, Fred. You should be more discreet.

FRED: Blackmail’s a bitch. You’re so right, Sandy. You know I love that name, Sandy. I used to play ball with a fellow by the name of Sandy. Turned out to be a pretty good ballplayer, too. I ever tell you that story?

ALDERSON (sighs, sits uncomfortably, reaches for a cracker): Yes, several times.

FRED: Lafayette High, those were the days. I was a pretty good prospect myself, some scouts thought I was even better than Koufax, actually, but –-“

SANDY: YOUCH! Damn it, Fred! Little Jeffy just stapled my leg! Jesus, that hurts!

FRED: Ha-ha, kids. Jeffy, did you take Daddy’s stapler?

JEFF: Waaaahhhh!

FRED: Sandy, look what you did. You made him cry.

SANDY: I’m bleeding here!

JEFF: Wah-wah-waaaahhhh!

FRED: Now you have to make my boy happy, Sandy. You know what little Jeffy loves, don’t you?

SANDY: No, absolutely not!

FRED: Just this once.

SANDY: Fred, I already let Jeffy make a trade last winter! Remember? Angel Pagan for Torres and Ramirez! Who on EARTH would want Andres Torres??!! We can’t afford another lame-brained move like . . . I mean, miscalculation, like that.

JEFF (whines, bangs head on floor): Daddy, I wanna pway Genewal Manager!

FRED (cajoling): Come on, Sandy. Just let him make one eensy-weensy trade this winter. Who’ve we got on the blocks? Niese, Dickey, Davis? Let Jeffy get on the phone and cut a deal.

JEFF (speaking into toy phone): Hewwo? Dis ish Jeffy Wilpon and I wanna bwoker a deawl width you!

SANDY: Heaven help us. Do you have any Tylenol, Fred? Bayer aspirin? Excedrin?

FRED: Pish and tosh! No need spending on expensive brand names. Generic is just as good! (Fred cuts crumbling aspirin tablet in half.)

SANDY: Ah, yes, thanks. (Chuckles to himself.) The Mike Nickeas of pain relief.

FRED: Don’t be so glum. You know this is a family business, Sandy. Why even my son Bruce was instrumental in helping us scout Kaz Matsui. Remember Kaz? Talked funny?

SANDY: Talked funny? Oh, Christ, Fred. He was Japanese!

FRED (whispers): Oh, I thought he was gay. Threw like a girl. Even I didn’t understand why Bruce wanted to move rocket-armed Jose to second base.

SANDY (bends down, pats Jeff on head, sighs with resignation): I suppose I could let the little tyke sign another free agent. What harm could it do?

FRED (demurs): I don’t know, that stuff costs money. I don’t have my good old pal Bernie anymore. Guy used to practically print the stuff — ho, ho! I still think you never should have let my brain-addled son sign Frank Francisco. I mean, come on, Frank Fran-Freaking-cisco!

SANDY: Um, that’s was me.

FRED: Well, the idiocy of signing D.J. Carrasco to a 2-year deal. Only a certified moron would have –

SANDY: No, that was me, too.

FRED: Oh, crap. You’re killing me here! No more Daddy Bigbucks, Sandy. You’re on your own. (Pops remaining half-tablet of aspirin into mouth.) 2013 is going to be a loooong season.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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8 comments

  1. MetsResearchInstitute@TexacoStateU says:

    Wow. We’ve gone from intelligent discussions to….whatever this is meant to be. Sheesh.

  2. Not a theater lover, are you, MetsResearchInstitute? Cats? Les Miz? Nothing? Seriously, just offering up a little lighthearted satire — besides, anytime I can take out my frustrations on Jeff, I’m all in. But I can see you aren’t laughing, so, oh well.

    Thanks for stopping by, we really do appreciate every reader. (Especially those with electricity!) Hopefully you’ll give us another try tomorrow and find something more to your liking.

    • MetsResearchInstitute@TexacoStateU says:

      More into Greek tragedy…which we already got.

      See you tomorrow. Looking forwsrd to it.

  3. Dan says:

    I didn’t mind it. I wouldn’t want too much of it, but for a change once in a while, I think it keeps things interesting. However, I do appreciate intelligent discussion.

  4. Steve from Norfolk says:

    Ever notice how much Jeff Wilpon looks like Shemp??

  5. Alan K says:

    Unfortunately probably not as far removed from the truth as one might think. Where is the Risky Business tape when we need it?

  6. Terrimac says:

    I happened to like the one-act play!

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