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The 7 - Baseball - RETRO: Tommy Lasorda ain't afraid to swear
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CRZ
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#1 Posted on 11.4.02 0530.46
Reposted on: 11.4.09 0532.42
This was one of the greatest things I'd ever read on Usenet back when I was in college, brought back to life thanks to the fine folks at Google:


http://groups.google.com/groups?hl=en&selm=1991Apr23.004703.22386%40athena.cs.uga.edu&rnum=2


Talking Motherf---ing Baseball, Godd--- It!
SPY Salutes the Tardy 1990 Baseball Season With a Piece of 13-Year-Old,
Unauthorized Oral History


An unusual audiocassette recently made its way into our possession. The
tape -- rerecorded and passed on from enthusiast to enthusiast over the years,
a kind of sonic chain letter -- offers a true baseball fan's delight: actual,
uncensored recordings of ballplayers caught in the act of cussing. (As a sort
of a bonus, the tape also includes Kansas City Royal George Brett's frank
assessment of his progress in battling a case of hemorrhoids: "You know how
some guys, when they get laid, they like having their girlfriends stick their
fingers up their ass? Well, I don't think I'm going to try THAT anytime soon!")


The most instructive sequence on the tape involves Los Angeles Dodgers manager
Tommy Lasorda, who was apparently wearing a microphone for the broadcast of the
1977 World Series between the Dodgers and the New York Yankees. Inadvertently,
perhaps, Lasorda provides us with an answer to one of baseball's most enduring
mysteries: what do managers say to pitchers when they walk out to the mound?


The scene: game four, at Dodger Stadium, with the Yankees leading two games
to one. In the top of the second inning left-handed starter Doug Rau -- a
surprise starter, given his recently sore pitching arm -- has just yielded three
straight hits. The score is 1-0 Yankees, with runners on second and third. There
are no outs. As the tape begins, Lasorda is sitting in the dugout.


DODGER STADIUM ANNOUNCER: BATTING SEVENTH, NUMBER 9, THIRD BASEMAN GRAIG
NETTLES.


[A pause as Lasorda walks out to the mound; Rau apparently says something or
makes a gesture indicating he wants to stay in the game.]


LASORDA: Fuck no. You can't get the fucking left-handers out for Christ All-
fucking-mighty.


RAU: I feel good, Tommy.


LASORDA: I don't give a shit you feel good -- there's four motherfucking hits
up there.


RAU: They're all fucking hits the opposite way.


LASORDA: I don't give a fuck.


RAU: I got a left-handed hitter. I can strike this motherfucker out.


LASORDA: I don't give a fuck, Dougie.


RAU: I think you're wrong.


LASORDA: Well, I may be wrong, but that's my goddamn job. I --


RAU: I ain't fucking hurting.


LASORDA: I'll make the fucking decisions here.


RAU: [unintelligible]


LASORDA: I'll make the fucking decisions here. Okay?


[At this point the ballpark organist begins playing a jaunty tune, which lasts
throughout the rest of the tape and lends the proceedings a strange air of
pathos.]


RAU: You let three runs get up on the fucking board yesterday.


LASORDA: I DON'T GIVE A FUCK!


RAU: Hey, Tommy --


LASORDA: DON'T GIVE ME ANY SHIT, GODDAMN IT! I'll make the fucking decisions.
Keep your fucking mouth shut, I told ya.


UNIDENTIFIED INFIELDER: [Unintelligible] get back off the mound. You want to
talk about it, talk about it inside.


LASORDA: You talk about it inside my fucking office.


INFIELDER: I'm just saying, talk about it inside. This is not the place to keep
talking about it. Okay? That's all I'm trying to say. I'm just trying to avoid
a fucking scene out here, that's all.


LASORDA: Right. Fucking great for you to be standing out here talking to me like
that.


RAU: If I didn't feel good, I wouldn't say anything.


LASORDA: I don't give a shit, Doug. I'm the fucking manager of the fucking team.
I got to make the fucking decisions --


ANNOUNCER: COMING IN TO PITCH FOR THE DODGERS --


LASORDA: -- and I'll make them to the fucking best of my ability.


ANNOUNCER: -- NUMBER 36, RICK RHODEN.


[Crowd cheers]


LASORDA: It may be the fucking wrong decision, but I'll make it. Don't worry
about it. I'll make the fucking decision. I gave you a fucking chance to walk
out of here. I can't fuck around -- we're down two games to one. If it was
yesterday, that's a different fucking story.


RAU: There's a left-handed hitter coming up, what about that?


LASORDA: I DON'T GIVE A SHIT! You got three, three left-handed hitters, and they
all got hits on ya. Whoever that is, Jackson and that fucking other guy. They
all bat, they all hit -- that guy that just hit the ball was a left-hander,
wasn't he?


RAU: I jammed him. You know, the inside part of the plate --


LASORDA: I don't give a shit if you jammed him or not, he didn't get out. I
can't -- I can't let you out there in a fucking game like this. I got a fucking
job to do. What's the matter with you?


[A smattering of applause as Rau finally leaves; Rhoden arrives on the mound,
and an unintelligible discussion ensues, presumably as to how to pitch to
Graig Nettles. Lasorda returns to the dugout.]


LASORDA: What a fucking pain in the ass, that Rau. I hate to bring him into
the second inning with a fucking left-hander. [Unintelligible] we can't give
'em two more this fucking early.


[Unintelligible question from a player or coach.]


LASORDA: Send him back.


UNIDENTIFIED PLAYER OR COACH: Back. Send him back....He doesn't want to go back.
Get the fuck back. BACK!


[Tape ends; the Dodgers go on to lose the game by a score of 4-2, the same
tally by which the Yankees would ultimately win the series.]

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pieman
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#2 Posted on 11.4.02 0741.29
Reposted on: 11.4.09 0759.03
That is so many different flavors of goodness! I can't stop laughing.
spf
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#3 Posted on 11.4.02 1130.29
Reposted on: 11.4.09 1133.08
That is pretty cool. Perhaps the only thing to compare is this...from Lee Elia, Cubs manager in 1983...profanities were censored on the source page for this here:

F*ck those f*ckin' fans who come out here and say they're Cub fans that are supposed to be behind you, rippin' every f*ckin' thing you do. I'll tell you one f*ckin' thing, I hope we get f*ckin' hotter than sh*t, just to stuff it up them 3,000 f*ckin' people that show up every f*ckin' day, because if they're the real Chicago f*ckin' fans, they can kiss my f*ckin' ass right downtown and PRINT IT.

They're really, really behind you around here...my f*ckin' ass. What the f*ck am I supposed to do, go out there and let my f*ckin' players get destroyed every day and be quiet about it? For the f*ckin' nickel-dime people who turn up? The motherf*ckers don't even work. That's why they're out at the f*ckin' game. They oughta go out and get a f*ckin' job and find out what it's like to go out and earn a f*ckin' living. Eighty-five percent of the f*ckin' world is working. The other fifteen percent come out here. A f*ckin' playground for the cocks*ckers. Rip them motherf*ckers. Rip them f*ckin' cocks*ckers like the f*ckin' players. We got guys bustin' their f*ckin' ass, and them f*ckin' people boo. And that's the Cubs? My f*ckin' ass. They talk about the great f*ckin' support the players get around here. I haven't see it this f*ckin' year. Everybody associated with this organization have been winners their whole f*ckin' life. Everybody. And the credit is not given in that respect.

Alright, they don't show because we're 5 and 14...and unfortunately, that's the criteria of them dumb fifteen motherf*ckin' percent that come out to day baseball. The other eighty-five percent are earning a living. I tell you, it'll take more than a 5 and 12 or 5 and 14 to destroy the makeup of this club. I guarantee you that. There's some f*ckin' pros out there that wanna win. But you're stuck in a f*ckin' stigma of the f*ckin' Dodgers and the Phillies and the Cardinals an all that cheap sh*t. It's unbelievable. It really is. It's a disheartening f*ckin' situation that we're in right now. Anybody who was associated with the Cub organization four or five years ago that came back and sees the multitude of progress that's been made will understand that if they're baseball people, that 5 and 14 doesn't negate all that work. We got 143 f*ckin' games left.

What I'm tryin' to say is don't rip them f*ckin' guys out there. Rip me. If you wanna rip somebody, rip my f*ckin' ass. But don't rip them f*ckin' guys 'cause they're givin' everything they can give. And right now they're tryin' to do more than God gave 'em, and that's why we make the simple mistakes. That's exactly why.

LordOfTheSmarks
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#4 Posted on 12.4.02 1114.47
Reposted on: 12.4.09 1126.17
"Rip them fucking cocksuckers like the fucking players" is one of my favorite baseball lines of all time. Just hilarious.
BigDaddyLoco
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#5 Posted on 13.4.02 0237.53
Reposted on: 13.4.09 0252.04
That Lasorda stuff is great, I can just picture the whole scene unfolding at the ballpark.
The Thrill
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#6 Posted on 18.4.02 0005.24
Reposted on: 18.4.09 0009.12
Oddly enough, a buddy of mine in the radio biz (who just got hitched...the fool!) relayed to me a funny story about that '83 Lee Elia tirade. Back then, he worked for a station that carried Cubs games. They had a pitch and a slogan for their coverage, complete with your typical unseen radio slogan singers going, "WE'LL MAKE A BELIEVER/OUTTA YOU!"

Now some DJ with a sense of humor added some of Elia's words to a 30-second spot. The body of it was hilarious (although I can't remember quite how it goes), but they kept those singers' ending, but Elia-ized. It went like this:

"WE'LL MAKE A BELIEVER/OUTTA YOU! My f*cking ass."

Oh, and if you thought the above Lasorda tirade was gold...go pick up a CD titled "Baseball's Greatest Hits." It's got a mint postgame interview with Tommy after yet another Dodger defeat. Listen how he describes the guy who hit 4 f*ckin' home runs. Pure gold, friends...and that's coming from a fan who sharpened his curse words on Tom Treblehorn, Phil Garner, Davey Lopes, and the whole Selig family.

Can't wait for All-Star weekend...somebody besides the Brewers will play Miller Park!
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