On Monday, the Cincinnati Reds officially introduced their new manager, Dusty Baker. (Thanks to Reds fan “Ebert” for the picture! Our condolences.)

BONUS: Dusty is contracted to manage a team in the NL Central which is NOT the Cubs for the next three years.

DOUBLE BONUS: They gave him a microphone during the press conference.

*NOTE: Most of the following dialogue is taken word-for-word from the actual press conference.

DUSTY BAKER, a greying, overweight man steps to a podium wearing a red pinstriped suit and red wristbands. He has a toothpick in his mouth. There are dozens of reporters sitting in folding chairs in front of the podium, waiting to ask the new Cincinnati Reds manager questions.

DUSTY: You dudes have any questions-

Every hand in the room shoots up.

DUSTY: -that aren’t about my wristbands-

More than half of the hands go down.

DUSTY: -or my toothpick?

Half of the remaining hands go down. Dusty points to one of the remaining reporters.

DUSTY: You. The guy who looks like Grudzy.

A homely female reporter looks over both her shoulders before deciding Dusty is talking to her.

REPORTER 1: Yes, Dusty. This once-proud organization has not won a division championship in more than a decade. They haven’t won the World Series since Lou Piniella, who replaced you in Chicago, won one in 1990. Do you think you can help return the Reds to their winning ways?

DUSTY: Hopefully we can have that championship ticker-tape parade. That’s what I really need. I need it badly.

Dusty squeezes the sides of the podium until his knuckles are so white, they can’t play in a day game.

REPORTER 1: Well, it’s not really about YOU, Dusty. It’s more about the team. There are a lot of loyal fans in the city of Cincinnati and they-

DUSTY: You just don’t know how badly I need it. I’m spoiled by winning. Once you win, you get more spoiled each time you win. You want more and more.

Dusty’s eyes are wild as his win-lust momentarily grips him.

REPORTER 1: Obviously no more than 66 though, huh?

Dusty fixes his wild gaze on the reporter.

DUSTY: What’s that?

REPORTER 1: Nothing.

A reporter at the opposite corner of the room stands up. The corners of his mouth twitch as he tries to keep a straight face.

REPORTER 2: Dusty, can you tell us more about all the “winning” you’re used to.

Reporter 2 holds his notepad in front of his face just in time to stifle his guffaw.

DUSTY: It’s kind of like a disease I don’t want to cure. I just want to satisfy it.

Dusty has worked himself into a frothy lather.

REPORTER 2: You know, according to the shrink in The Natural, it’s actually LOSING that is a disease. So, weird. Also, are you some kind of daywalker?

A reporter stands up a few rows in front of Dusty.

REPORTER 3: Dusty, what are you doing for lunch?

DUSTY: We’re both starving, so I hope we can both eat at the same time.

REPORTER 3: Great. You want to meet at Meatball Heroes are Dead again?

DUSTY: Cool, dude.

Another reporter stands up.

REPORTER 4: Dusty, did you think this through clearly, or is this another half-assed, poorly thought-out decision of yours?

DUSTY: I asked my son, “What do you think of the Cincinnati Reds?”

REPORTER 4: Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Another reporter stands to question Baker.

REPORTER 5: What did your son say about the Reds?

DUSTY: He said, “Dad, they always start off good and end up in last place.” I said “No, Dad is here to change that.”

REPORTER 5: You’re going to have them go wire-to-wire in last place instead?

Dusty ignores the question as another reporter stands.

REPORTER 6: Dusty, what does it mean when the Reds hire a manager largely considered a buffoon everyone else in the Major Leagues?

DUSTY: I think it says a lot for Cincinnati and it says a lot for the organization.

REPORTER 6: I agree.

Another reporter stands.

REPORTER 7: Dusty, some of your critics have accused you of being poor at managing a pitching staff and abusing starting pitchers. How do you respond to their concerns that you might do harm to ace Aaron Harang or the young Homer Bailey?

DUSTY: The organization certainly would not have made such a move if it had feared that the city or the area would not have accepted this change at this time.

REPORTER 7: Does that mean you’re going to destroy those pitchers and replace them with Eric Milton and Kirk Saarloos?

DUSTY: Oh, yeah.

Another reporter steps forward.

REPORTER 8: Dusty, we’ve been in this press conference for over five minutes, and you haven’t mentioned race once. Are you all right?

DUSTY: Hopefully, there will come a time when you no longer look at me as an African-American manager or leader. You look at me as a man and a leader that’s going to lead your team regardless of who I am and what face that I have.

REPORTER 8: That’s better.

A voice comes from the opposite side of the room.

REPORTER 9: So, how did you get the job?

DUSTY: I talked to Wayne sometime midsummer.

REPORTER 9: How? Via courier pigeon?

DUSTY: I talked to him on the phone.

REPORTER 9: Oh.

DUSTY: They had approached me and it was sort of feeling each other out, not knowing what was going to transpire.

REPORTER 9: Trying to figure out the perfect opportunity to slip something into their drinks?

DUSTY: I had a job and they already had an interim manager here.

REPORTER 9: Plus, you’d proven yourself completely inept at managing for four whole years in the Reds’ own division, and you were hilariously depantsed in two consecutive postseason appearances. So, maybe they were a bit hesitant.

DUSTY: They approached me very aggressively.

REPORTER 9: Wow. No wonder this franchise sucks.

DUSTY: It didn’t take a very long time to make up their minds or my mind, which how is how l like to do things.

REPORTER 9: Hey, remember that time you fucked up that double-switch against the Reds?

DUSTY: You either want me or you don’t.

REPORTER 9: I’ll let you guess which one.

Another reporter stands.

REPORTER 10: Dusty, what was it like being out of baseball for a year?

DUSTY: It was necessary.

REPORTER 10: Yeah, because they basically booed you out of town and probably changed the lock on your office, right?

DUSTY: It was necessary because I had to let some wounds heal from Chicago.

REPORTER 10: Oh. I thought because of my thing.

DUSTY: I was beat up pretty good when I was there.

REPORTER 10: Yeah. Maybe you should have considered not being such an idiot.

Another reporter stands up.

REPORTER 11: Dusty, I notice you haven’t tried to prey on our emotions in a while. Tell us what you really think about being out of baseball.

DUSTY: It was necessary to be around my ailing dad and my son. It was a perfect time for me to be out of the game.

REPORTER 11: That’s a real tear-jerker. Remember when you almost let your son get killed during the 2002 playoffs?

Dusty ignores the question as another reporter stands up.

REPORTER 12: What do you think of taking over a team that lost 90 games last year?

DUSTY: It’s similar to situations I’ve been in in the past. When I took over the Giants, they were on the bottom. When I took over the Cubs, they were on the bottom. And so I plan on taking this team to the top like I have the other teams. And beyond.

REPORTER 12: So, you’re going to turn your head as Adam Dunn does steroids, throw pixie dust on the field, and then pray to God that you have stud starting pitching and a lockdown closer?

DUSTY: That’s my goal.

Another reporter stands.

REPORTER 12: Last question, Dusty, and last chance to mention your kid again. What do you see happening in Cincinnati?

DUSTY: I won�t be satisfied in my own life if I don�t bring a championship before I go home and play with my son.