Fan club members, Shoutboxers, Cubs fans and others:

It’s time to mobilize. We’re halfway to our dream of installing me back in the Cubs dugout. Lou Piniella has announced his retirement effective at the end of the season. I wish him well in Tampa. But I wish myself better in Chicago.

Obviously, a lot of people are mentioning Iowa Cubs manager Ryne Sandberg as the heir apparent. True, Ryne Sandberg in uniform at Wrigley Field tonight would give the Cubs an immediate improvement. Only, it would be at second base, where a syphilitic lab chimp would be an improvement.

True story: I was once Ryne Sandberg’s boss. True story: I’ve managed more games in the Majors than Ryne Sandberg. True story: Ryne Sandberg never had to take over for a legend who led the Cubs to their last postseason before. True story: Ryne Sandberg has never outmanaged Lou Piniella. True story:  Ryne Sandberg is no me.

I do not wish to disparage our Hall of Fame second baseman from the 1980s and 1990s. In 1991, he was my best regular, and he had the second highest OPS among batters with at least 100 plate appearances (the immortal Hector Villanueva was tops). But even there, we have more to the story. During the Don Zimmer/Joe Altobelli period in 1991, Sandberg’s line was .273/.341/.440 with five homers and 13 RBI. After I took over and managed him “not to suck at baseball,” he hit .297/.391/.501, hitting 21 homers and knocking in 87 runs.

Do you think that’s coincidental?

Ryno is a good guy, a baseball enthusiast and a guy who wants to be part of a winning team. So, I’m willing to put him on staff as my bench coach (coaching an inanimate object is easy), or my first base coach (delicious coincidence, him replacing Ivan DeJesus).

But I am the perfect guy for the job. Sandberg got thrown out of a bunch of Minor League games? Big deal. Has he ever charged a pitcher from the third base coach’s box? Has he ever kicked Diamondbacks manager Kirk Gibson’s ass? Did he ever give his tacit approval to Andre Dawson to embarrass and humiliate Joe West?

I think I can get the Ricketts’ family to listen to me. Tom Ricketts owes me. Yes, I know his backstory, and I plan on calling in a favor or two.

Back in October when the media wrote the feel-good stuff about the Ricketts’ family (who knew that Lou Piniella would make the first big personnel change?), I saw this story about Tom in the Daily Herald.

“I met my wife in the bleachers,” Tom says, recalling a Cubs game in 1991. “She was with a group of friends. and I was with a group of friends and family.”

They hit it off and met up later at the Taste of Lincoln Avenue. Then marriage, kids, the usual.

Hmm, Taste of Lincoln Avenue? When was that in 1991? According to an archived story in the Chicago Tribune, it fell on July 27 and 28. I have to assume Mr. Ricketts met his bride during the Saturday game, because what really happens at a street festival on a Sunday night? No, the magic happened July 27, hours after a 1:20 game at Wrigley Field.

Lester Lancaster outdueled John Smoltz (who was rancid that day), and my prized pupil hit two home runs, a three-run shot in the first inning (that may have frustrated Smoltz into drilling Andre Dawson on the very next pitch), and a two-run shot in the third to give the Cubs a 5-0 lead.

As the Cubs built their 5-0 lead (behind the brilliant managing in the dugout) and Ryne Sandberg hit two homers early (as he was more prone to hit home runs and knock in runs under my leadership than Zimmer’s or Altobelli’s), I can only imagine how invincible Mr. Ricketts felt as he sidled up to his future wife and chatted her up about great things to do in Omaha, Small cap stocks, fixed income securities and his bachelor pad over Sports Corner. I am sure, as I brought in Chuck McElroy to pick up the routine three-inning save, he said something like “What a brilliant move! Essian should be Cubs’ manager for life!”  I am sure as I stood on the steps of the dugout and cheered as McElroy retired 9 of the 11 guys he faced, that his wife was dazzled by my sharp mustache and my joie de vivre. She was amazed at how my moves worked seamlessly to outwit Bobby Cox (a guy who is getting out of baseball this season rather than have to face me in the regular season).

Had my daring moves failed, would she have made the daring move to go to Taste of Lincoln Ave. with a son of a tycoon? Maybe she would have been inspired to make a bad decision and snuggle up to a balding guy with a bologna sandwich and a scorebook instead.

And you know how life would be different. The balding man would own the Cubs now, and Ricketts would be a frustrated blogger sitting in the left field corner. Thank God that’s not the case.

No, Tom Ricketts shouldn’t thank God for that. Thank God for other things. But the Cubs beating the eventual National League champions on July 27, 1991, him meeting his wife and having five children with her, him buying the Cubs, you can thank me for that.

As for all of you: it’s time to act. Call 773-404-2827, dial “0″ until you get a live voice, and put in a good word for me. Just something about how awesome it would be if I became manager again.

Or you could write:

Tom Ricketts
1060 W. Addison St.
Chicago, IL 60657

Dear Mr. Ricketts,

Hire Jim Essian.

Sincerely,

(Your Name)

By the way, the picture of some of my great fan club members  is courtesy of one of my biggest fans, Jody Davis Jodi Gibbs Davis, who posted this on my Facebook Fan Page. Become a “fan” of me (and of this website) today and do your part to install the right man as manager of the Cubs!