Brain out yer dead
In response to an inquiry about whether there will be enough at-bats to keep everybody happy this season, Macha pulled this gem out of that adorable little head of his:
"It's a dilemma right now," Macha said. "That's why a major-league manager wakes up at 4 o'clock in the morning. His mind is always working."
Ok guys, give me a minute here....BWAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Oh man, Ken, you are just too much. The next time your mind is working will be the first time. Seriously, that thing you call a brain might just be the single most defective thing in the known universe. In the grand scheme of things, your intellectual acuity level falls somewhere between cat feces and a writer on the sitcom 'The War at Home.' His mind is always working.....that's too fucking precious. Also, I'd prefer it if you no longer referred to yourself as a 'major league manager.' Yes, technically, you may be one, but you deserve it about as much as Ashlee Simpson deserves a recording contract. How would you feel if she called herself a singer? Exactly, Ken. So from now on, just refer to yourself as a "Major League Retard." That's way more appropriate.
Although, I think we may have pinpointed why you're always falling asleep during games. If you wake up in 4 in the morning, that means you've already been up for 15 hours by the time the game starts. That's a full day for most people, and you've still got a game to "manage" (for lack of a better word). Listen, Ken. It has been scientifically proven that people who don't get enough sleep simply can't function. They walk around like zombies with vacuous expressions on their faces, detached from society. Didn't you ever see Fight Club? My advice to you would be to get more sleep. I don't know if that would solve the problem (the problem of you being retarded) but it certainly couldn't hurt.
And later in the article, Macha is clearly delerious from his lack of sleep, and starts talking like his dentist is pumping him full of laughing gas:
"I know the players don't have as much patience as I do. I hope they all get 450 at-bats, make millions and millions of dollars and we win the World Series."
Well, fuck me with a broomstick and call me Inmate #J4987G, Ken. Aren't you just Little Miss Utopia today? There's a lot of things I hope for. I hope that one day all the countries in the Middle East will one day stand up and say, "hey, you know, every single one of our religions is beyond idiotic, and the only reason they still exist today is because somewhere, a small group of people are making a large amount of money because they've tricked us into believing the garbage in this stupid book right here." One day, wouldn't it be great if all the Palestinians and Muslims stood up and said, "you know, we should stop bombing Israel, because all them Jewish babes have enormous knockers, and I'd like to fuck the crap out of a couple of them." and then Israel is all, "you know, Palestine, maybe we can work together to get you your own piece of land," and then everybody would be happy and do a dance of joy and everybody would get along famously because everyone realized that all religions are a pile of shit, and wasting any of your time or money on them is only feeding the monster.
But anyway, Ken, rather than talking in the extremes, or what you *hope* is going to happen, why don't you actually sit down and think about what it's going to take to keep players healthy, fresh, and productive? Instead of lamenting the fact that Melhuse got fewer AB's last year than Keith fucking Ginter, why don't you own up for the fact that it was entirely your fault? It's your responsibility to make sure Payton plays 1 to 2 games a week, and that Perez needs to get some action in the backup infielder role, and that you know what you're going to do when Thomas can't play that particular day. If I believed for one second that you were waking up and 4 am to crunch the numbers concerning matchups and when would be the best times to get certain players in the game, I would stand up and applaud. But I don't believe for one second that you are. I know that you get up and fix yourself a chili cheeseburger and are kept awake the rest of the night by the cacophonous symphony that is your flatulence, and by the time the game rolls around, you're so tired you can barely stand up, so you don't bother removing pitchers from games or writing up a new lineup, you just sit there like an idiot, costing us games.
Mind is working....sheesh.