You've got a hundred more young kids than you have a place for on your club. Every one of 'em has had a goin' away party. They been given the shaving kit and fifty dollars. They kissed everybody and said, "See you in the majors in two years." You see these poor kids who shouldn't even be there in the first place. You write on the report card "4-4-4 and out." That's the lowest rating in everything. Then you call 'em in and say, "It's the consensus among us that we're going to let you go back home."
Some of 'em cry. Some get mad. But none of 'em will leave until you answer 'em one question: "Skipper, what do you think?" And you gotta look every one of those kids in the eye and kick their dreams in the ass and say no.
If you say it mean enough, maybe they do themselves a favor and don't waste years learning what you can see in a day. They don't have what it takes to make the majors. Just like I never had it.
Tags: Earl Weaver, Tom Boswell