The Fun Club House.

Bobby Valentine walks into the office and sits down starring at the lineup card.  Using index cards he arranges his lineup feeling the joy of managing this team.  The phone rings.

"Bobby, Beenie Cherington...can we bring Daniel Bard up yet?"

"Ah...he hit two batters...I...no."

"What'd you say?"

"I think...ah...no...maybe later...I guess."

"OK, tomorrow.  We'll trade Felix right? I'd have to give up arms like Beckett and Lester you know.  Felix is just a waste. Bard is a golden arm.  He can have anything he wants you know because I'm your boss...right?"

"Ah...not..."

"Bye."

Bobby puts the phone down and leans against the desk.  His hands support his pounding headache.

"Bobby, I don't feel like playing today.  There's a marathon of Dukes of Hazzard and the trucker on the show looks a lot like me.  Pitch someone and make yourself useful."

Bobby nods as Clay Buckholtz leaves the office.   Bobby rubs his head writing in Daniel Bard just to feel annoyed before erasing it and writing in...

He looks up to see Jon Lester.

"My Red Sox official hat has a loose thread in it.  I'm not going to be happy and pitch well until my gift given to me by John Henry when I whined hard enough is fixed.  Now I want it fixed, now, now, now."

Bobby waited until John stopped stomping up and down before he shook his head.  He watched as Jon left the office.  He rubbed his head.  His head was splitting from pain.

"Hey Bobby, gonna do nine holes.  I know I was supposed to be doing a side session but ya know, it's not like you can fire me. "

Bobby's eyes began to bulge.  His hair burned with anger before turning white again.


"Bobby, this teams wants to trade me...fine.  I don't care but just remember I gotta baseball bat with your name on it.  Now PLAY ME TONIGHT in CLEANUP!!!!"

"Yes Youk...of course."

Youk smashes the window of the office with his bat and leaves.  Bobby's head is bursting open.  He kicks the desk and walks out into the hallway and into the field.  He sits down at an empty seat.  The team is not anywhere to be found.  He doesn't care.

"What am I doing here?  This team is a shambles.  I can't take this anymore. "

"Hey Bobby...ignore my thumb.  It may be three times its size but its fine. Can't let my teammates down."

Bobby looks over at Dustin Pedroia noticing the shades of purple and gray coating his thumb.

"Sure...sounds great."

"OK."

Bobby sighed and looked out at the stands.  He pulled out an apple and chewed it tearing into its sweet flesh before throwing out into the field.

"Hey Bobby, my boss Scott Boras says I gotta take it easy for a while.  You know...but you gotta tell them that I'm working hard.  You know.  Get busy with that."

Bobby sighed and sagged his shoulders.  He waved as Carl Crawford went back to the dugout. 

"Manager...ya right. "

Bobby kicked the seat feeling the pain of crushing his toes.  He hobbled back to the dugout awaiting the next game hoping his headache would go away.