Cashman (nervously): So, Georgie ,did you happen to catch the game last night?

Young Steinbrenner (annoyed):  What, are kidding or something?  And don’t call me Georgie.

Cashman (slightly abashed): We didn’t look too good, did we?

Young Steinbrenner (coldly): That’s why we pay you the big bucks, I guess.  For your incisive analysis.

Cashman (defensively): Well, it wasn’t ME out there on the field, stinking it up.  It’s all Gerardi’s fault.  I think we oughtta Francona him.

Young Steinbrenner (unsure): Francona him?  What’s that?

Cashman (eagerly): You know.  Fire him and make him go on TV and resign.

Young Steinbrenner (pensive): I dunno.  What would daddy do?

Cashman (musing): I don’t know.  Maybe bring in Billy Martin to manage.  (softly) Ya DO know, Georgie, the old man is dead now.

Young Steinbrenner (curtly): You don’t think I know that?  And DON’T call me Georgie!

Cashman (sucking up): Well, I know you will think of something brilliant.

Young Steinbrenner (pensive): Right now all I can think about is mailing back all that seat money for the Series.  And also–how are we going to sell those $500 field box seats next year?  We gotta sell ’em, Brian.  Look at our payroll.

Cashman (with growing fear):  Well, we can lighten ship.  You know, trade the fat guy who used to be our ace until he gave up the winning run.

Young Steinbrenner (aggressively): I got a better idea.  Let’s make all the executives under me buy those seats and then let THEM have the job of remarketing them.  Yeah!  So how many do YOU want, Brian?  A thousand?

Cashman (apprehensive): With no bonus this year, I don’t think we can afford the tab.

Young Steinbrenner (eyes narrowed): Hey, did you hear the rumor that Epstein is talking to the Cubbies?  Let me give you John Henry’s direct dial, there may be an opening in Boston.

Cashman (sweating profusely): Oh, you kidder, you.  You know I got us the best talent.

Young Steinbrenner (angry as hell): Then how come we were knocked out in the first round?  By some no-names from the Rust Belt, fa Chrissake!!!  (quietly now)  Twenty-seven banners and it comes down to this. Our guys golfing with the Bosox and Rays while Detroit and Texas are playing baseball in October….  (tears in his eyes now)  Oh, daddy, you never told me there’d be days like this.

Cashman (with an effort at a smile):  Wait til next year.  We’ll get Big Papi and David Price and…

Young Steinbrenner (steel in his voice): Brian, you are SO fired.