Moneyball - Michael Lewis [101]
He speaks the name as he has never before, as if he can summon only contempt for anyone with an interest in this Youkilis. “Youkilis for Cliff Floyd?” he says “It’s ridiculous. Of course they’ll do it. Fucking Larry Lucchino [the Red Sox president] doesn’t know who the fuck Youkilis is. How are they going to explain to people that they didn’t get Cliff Floyd because they wouldn’t give up Youkilis?”
Poor teams enjoy one advantage over rich teams: immunity from public ridicule. Billy may not care for the Oakland press but it is really very tame next to the Boston press, and it certainly has no effect on his behavior, other than to infuriate him once a week or so. Oakland A’s fans, too, were apathetic compared to the maniacs in Fenway Park and Yankee Stadium. He could safely ignore their howls.
Omar doesn’t buy it. He thinks maybe Billy Beane is screwing up his deal.
“Omar, all I’m trying to do is give you a free player from me. And if they don’t do it, what have you lost? You can still do the deal.”
Omar says he’s worried about losing his deal. He’s got Bud Selig sitting on his shoulder. Omar, thanks to Bud Selig, is in violation of Billy Beane’s Trading Rule #2: “The day you say you have to do something, you’re screwed. Because you are going to make a bad deal.”
“Omar,” Billy says, “if they think they are going to get Floyd, Kevin Youkilis is not going to get in the way.” Billy Beane helps Omar to imagine the Boston headlines. NEW RED SOX OWNERS LOSE PENNANT TO KEEP FAT MINOR LEAGUER.
Now Omar understands; now Omar very nearly believes. But Omar is also curious: who is this Youkilis fellow that has Billy Beane so worked up? Perhaps Youkilis is someone who should be not an Oakland A, but a Montreal Expo.
“Youkilis?” says Billy, as if he’s only just heard of the guy and very nearly forgot his name. “Just a fat kid in Double-A. Look at your reports. He’s a ‘no’ for you. He’s a ‘maybe’ for me. From our standpoint he’s just a guy we like because he gets on base.”
(Silly us!)
Now Omar wants to make it more complicated than it is.
“Omar, Omar,” says Billy, “the point is I think you can get him in the deal and if you do I’m getting you something for nothing.”
He puts down the phone. “He’ll call Boston but I don’t think he’s going to push them,” he says.
A’s president Mike Crowley pokes his head into Billy’s office. “Steve’s on the phone.” Steve in this case is Steve Schott, A’s owner.
Billy’s thoughts linger on Youkilis. He imagines, fairly accurately as it turns out, the next words he’ll hear from the Red Sox. They’ll know of course that it was he, and not Omar, who has dropped the stink bomb of Youkilis. They’ll know because he, and no one else, has tried to get Youkilis from them in the past. They’ll know, also, because the Red Sox assistant GM, Theo Epstein, talks to Billy Beane as often as he can. Epstein is a twenty-eight-year-old Yale graduate who has known for some time that he’d like to be the general manager of a big league team and, when he is, which general manager he’d most like to be. The Boston Red Sox are moments away from joining Billy Beane in his crusade to emancipate fat guys who don’t make outs. All this Billy knows, and he still thinks Boston will give up Youkilis. What he doesn’t know is that Theo Epstein has new powers—new Red Sox owner John Henry listens to everything he says—and has used them to establish Kevin Youkilis as the poster child for the Boston Red Sox farm system. (“Three months earlier,” Epstein will later say, “and Billy would have had him.”)
“Billy, Steve’s still waiting to talk!” Mike Crowley again. His owner again. Billy looks around as if he’s forgotten something; he’s spent too much time on Youkilis. He needs to raise some cash. He goes back to his phone and calls Steve Phillips,