A Baseball Clubhouse Dialogue

Scene: Baseball stadium. Mid-October. A crowded and raucous team clubhouse. One hour before Game 7.

The players sit half-dressed at their lockers. Some are stretching. Some are listening to music with AirPods or big headphones. The old manager strolls in and pauses the lively dance music. Players nudge each other to pause whatever they're doing and focus on the manager.

Manager: "Alright. Here we go. Listen up, fellas. It's win or go home tonight!" (Manager scratches his ass, seems to lose his train of thought.)

Shortstop: “You know coach, I'd like to win, I really would... but I've got some issues to deal with at home. There was some damage to the back fence in that storm last week. And my wife says she's tired of the whiny one. The middle kid. Needs me to take that one out more. Anyway, yeah... we need to win this one."

Manager: "Yeah, I know that we've all got our own lives and family shit, but I said its win or go home!"

Shortstop: "How about we go home first, I deal with the house and the kids and make the wife happy and then we win. Joking."

Manager: "She ain't happy with your $7 million salary?! Maybe you need a new wife! Get your head together, you diva! Win or go home, men! It's about urgency! It's do or die. We gotta win or we're dead! That's it!"

Center fielder: "That's some bullshit. This ain't life and death. This just a boy's game. We all just grown-up extra strong boys. You know that. And you a very old and grumpy boy. And you might get fired if we lose so you gotta say shit like do or die. Win or go home. Don't give us some bullshit. We will go home when we gotta go home and we gonna rest our bodies after playing through all this shit and chomping on those pain killers Jose providing for us every night.”

(A hush falls over the clubhouse.)

Manager: "Well, fuck! You all want to make more money, right? This is the time of year you make your money. It’s do or die time!"

Relief Pitcher: "Listen up, y'all. I pulled into Nazareth. And I was really tired. I just needed a place to lay down, you know, a place to lay my head. I asked a guy where I could sleep, you know, where I could find a bed. He smiled at me like I was a jackass. He held out his hand, so I shook it. He told me no. Anyway, I tell y'all that story cause I'm damn tired. I been pitching nearly every day this year. I don't complain even though my arm is just about to fall off my body. I take them pills Jose gives us. I drink my two Buds. I call my honey back home. Then I hit the hay. Let's play this damn ballgame and stop all the chit-chat. Alright?"