I’m glad Sweet Uncle Lou is back with his Friday and Monday roundups, because I really wasn’t in the mood the fill in for him again. I have to look for work, you know, and it looks like I won’t be taking over the Cubs anytime soon. I do have to ask: How’s that Fire Lou Piniella movement working? If someone was looking to make dollars by cybersquatting on a Fire Lou Piniella site, I hope he has a decent job doing something else. Maybe he’s a commodities trader, like the “It’s Gonna Happen” moron.

Anyway, I come to you one week to the day after a very happy anniversary passed. No it wasn’t the 10-year anniversary of the founding of Desipio, unless news like this is music to your ears. The big anniversary was the 16th anniversary of one of my true managerial highlights. July 23, 1991 was a day revered by Cubs fans all over the world. I’d like to get together a reunion featuring Andre Dawson, Doug Dascenzo, Rob Dibble, Joe West, Lou Piniella and myself. I was going to mention it last Monday. And then I looked at the schedule: Friday night, Lou’s team was in the visitor’s dugout for a Reds-Cubs game, just as he was in 1991. Then something came up, and I had to attend to that. So, here we are reminiscing about an event exactly 16 years and one week ago today…

The thing to remember is that Lou Piniella and I locked horns, and who do you think won? Lou and his oh-so-tough defending World Champions? Or my club, which was getting things together and was primed to take on the Minnesota Twins in the 1991 World Series. (Yes, I know we didn’t make the World Series. However, if Dave Smith wasn’t injured and terrible, and if Danny Jackson wasn’t terrible, and if Sutcliffe pitched as many real games as simulated games, Kirby Puckett would just be another decent ballplayer who died young. Or something).

Let’s introduce our main players:

The evil umpire, Joe West. Seriously, he sucks. Earlier this year, West picked a fight with Cliff Floyd. From the start of his career in 1977 until Aug. 2005, the Cubs’ record with West calling balls and strikes was 59-70 (.457).

Oh, and I’m sure he’s a terrible “musician” as well.

Andre Dawson, scholar, gentleman, the balls. Andre Dawson was ejected twice in his Cubs career. Once when he was hit in the face by Eric Show. Another was this special night.

To pick a fight with Andre Dawson was sheer folly. Eric Show died in 1994 because of an “accidental drug overdose.” At least that’s what they’ll have you believe. Andre didn’t like Montreal, and there’s no longer a baseball team there.

I see Joe West makes his off-season residence in Fort Lauderdale. The Hawk lives year-round in South Florida, and I’m sure he’s a short car ride away from Country Joe West. If I were Joe West, I’d keep one eye open every night. Of course, I’d also cut my calorie intake by 75% to 3,000 calories a day, get my eyes checked and spend less time singing country music and more time learning the rules of baseball. But that’s just me. At any rate, Andre Dawson is a fine American and should Hendry be fired or have a grabber, let me endorse this man to be the Cubs’ next GM.

Me. James Sarkis (Jim) Essian. Skip. Skip Johnson, if you will. I was guiding the Cubs to a fourth-place finish when the defending champions came into town.

I had my team geared up for battle. And my club knew they had an ace in the hole: me. Bobby Knight once said about a game in which Indiana came back from a big deficit to beat LSU: “I looked across the sideline and saw Dale Brown. Once I saw him, I knew we had a chance.” Most team’s managers felt the same way when they saw me. Except they knew that they had no chance and should just do everyone a favor and shoot themselves. Unfortunately, Mets manager Bud Harrelson never did.

Lou Piniella, my opponent. Rommel to my Patton. Lee to my Grant. Bobby Riggs to my Billie Jean King. Karl Malone to my Michael Jordan. Raymond Berry to my Mike Ditka. Obviously, this man believed he was worthy of matching wits with me. Not on this night. Not on most nights. (When will Hendry realize this and give me my job back?)

Lou was a lot younger then. Come to think of it, so was I. Lou had won a World Series in 1990, but I wasn’t managing in the bigs then. Once he faced me, he never returned to the World Series.

I like Lou, although the next time I see him, I need to tell him about the time we exchanged lineup cards on this night. I haven’t seen my wallet since.

Rob Dibble. Flame-throwing right-hander. Set-up man for closer Randy Myers in 1990. Closer for starter Randy Myers in 1991. Punching bag and tackling dummy for Piniella in 1992.

Currently a Baseball Tonight analyst? I have no idea, because I haven’t watched that show since 1996.

Rob’s really a charming guy. He had spent the year throwing at hitters, fans, and baserunners. A few years later, he was out of baseball.

Now, he gets paid to “analyze.” Seriously, does he have his Baseball Tonight gig any more? I wonder how well he does next to Dusty Baker…

Doug Dascenzo, light-hitting outfielder, midget, distinguished member of the Bottom 126, and a defensive replacement on this night.

He also filled Rob Dibble’s role of relief pitcher on occasion.

Today, who knows what Dascenzo’s doing. But he was a fan favorite then. He couldn’t play for the Cubs today unless he spelled his last name Dascenzot.

Another distinguished member of the Bottom 126, Rick Wilkins. I had just anointed him starting catcher, and he went 2-for-4 with two runs scored and an RBI. He also had to put up with Joe West behind him for nine innings.I am a little concerned about Rick Wilkins as he’s also listed as the 99th best Cubs player of all-time. Hmm, he at least was there on that special night in baseball history.

The Louisville Slugger bat factory. Open for tours year-round. Producers of fine lumber bats. Without them, the Hawk might have had a lot less fun.

O.K., so let’s discuss this game. I had Lester Lancaster going up against Randy Myers, one of the game’s all-time great closers. (And the guy who gave the “It’s Gonna Happen” Publicity Seeker his start.) Obviously, Lou had been on a bender starting Randy Myers. I outclassed him there, going with Lancaster, who was accustomed to throwing more than an inning at a time.

We got on the board on an RBI single by Dawson in the first, followed by George Bell reaching base on a Chris Sabo error, which scored another run. Chris Sabo homered in the second, and in the third, Paul O’Neill singled home Hal Morris. Lou thought he was in control, but he forgot whom he was skippering against. That’s right, me.

Wunderkind Rick Wilkins singled to lead off the fourth, and he went to second on a Jeff Reed passed ball. That’s when I ordered Lancaster to lay down a sac bunt. A beauty. Wilkins was at second, and when Chico Walker flew to deep right, Wilkins was able to score.

I was in my element now. In the middle of the sixth, I gave Shawon Dunston advice he never before heard: take a pitch, kid. He walked off of reliever Tim Layana. To reward Shawon (and to outsmart dummy Lou), I gave Shawon the green light to steal second and third while Wilkins was busy striking out. Some might call that reckless. I call that Essianizing things up. It also looks like Jeff Reed wanted to secure his spot on top of Lou’s “List of the worst Goddamn Catchers I’ve Ever Managed List.” He must have known Michael Barrett was coming in 13 short years. Layana struck out Lancaster, but Reed couldn’t handle strike three, and as the dust cleared, Lancaster was on second, Shawon was drinking Gatorade, and we led 4-2.

Chico Walker (whom I started instead of fat Jerome Walton) singled home Lancaster and then advanced to second on a passed ball (I’m telling you, Reed and Barrett should have a suck-fest to determine No. 1 on Lou’s list). Walker was picked off second, but the damage was done 5-2.

In the seventh, Ryno popped out, and Dawson struck out looking. Should be innocuous enough. As Dawson’s the consummate pro, he asked Joe West how far out of the strike zone the pitch was. West, being the consummate fat prick, replied with some smarmy statement. Dawson said something back, and WHOA! he ejected him.

Listen, I might be a religious man, but I’m a red ass when I want to be. Remember that I charged a pitcher who threw at a batter when I managed the Pittsfield Cubs and was in the 3rd base coaching box. So I went out there to send Hawk away and get my own two cents in. And the Bastard EJECTED me! Dawson went crazy, bat-shit crazy if you will.

He slammed his bat down and West said something about a fine. So Dawson threw the whole frickin’ bat rack onto the field and let West tally up the fine. It was good stuff.

Here’s how Retrosheet recorded the sequence in the seventh:

CUBS 7TH: Sandberg popped to shortstop; West ejects Essian;
Dawson flipped out.West sux. Dawson throws bat at Joe West after
he ejects him; Dawson was called out on strikes; BENAVIDES
REPLACED DUNCAN (PLAYING SS); Bell grounded out (shortstop to
first); 0 R, 0 H, 0 E, 0 LOB.  Reds 2, Cubs 5.

Now, I was ejected, so I’m sure Joe Altobelli was the “manager” but I was still calling the shots. Wilkins had doubled home a run and stood on third after a wild pitch (final tally: Reed 2 PBs, 2 WPs). I told Altobelli to bring in Dascenzo and have him bunt. The midget laid down a beaut in front of the mound, and Wilkins scored. Dibble got pissed off and threw at Dascenzo. Dibble was tossed. Insanity ensued. Sandberg eventually drove home the eighth run, and we won 8-5. And I even took 2 1/2 innings off.

That’s all for now, friends. Let me know if you see any job openings, and in the meantime, Go Cubs! They can tie the Brewers for first place with a win over Philly tonight, although some bloggers correctly pointed out the Cubs already are truly in first place.

Later,

Skip