As the Mets begin searching in earnest for their next general manager, plenty of names are being tossed about: established veterans like Sandy Alderson, John Hart, Gerry Hunsicker, and up-and-comers like Rick Hahn and Jerry DiPoto.
One name that has not emerged, to nobody’s surprise, is Bryan Harris. That would be me.
Of course, there’s a perfectly good reason why my name is not being whispered in the halls of Citi Field: nobody there has ever heard of me. Except for my friend who works for the Mets, but he’s smart enough to ignore my delusions of grandeur. If he reads this, he’ll likely pretend he never heard of me.
Of course, I do have a day job which I enjoy very much and am not about to relinquish. But I can work nights and weekends. I am willing to make the sacrifice to help restore my team to its days of infrequent yet cherished glory.
Here’s why I think I’m qualified to rebuild the Mets:
— I’ve been a devoted fan for more than 40 years. I’ve endured more than my share of misery and I simply cannot trust anyone else to get the job done. Is that motivation to build a winner or what?
— The Mets say they are going outside the organization to find their man and I am the ultimate outsider: I’ve never played the game or worked in baseball. Although I do pitch for my company softball team. That counts for something, no? All the political aspirants who are counting on their outside status and lack of experience in the Beltway (“I’m not a career politician!”) to propel them to victory in November? Well, I’m the baseball version of them. I’m the Tea Party candidate for the Mets’ GM job.
— I never bought into the dubious notion that fans in New York won’t stand for a rebuilding plan. That’s the oft-repeated refrain of the bloviating, overheated talk show hosts in this town. Yes, we’re all impatient and want instant gratification, but above all, we want to win. And it takes a plan to do so. Throwing money at a problem does not work. Not in Flushing, that’s for sure. Maybe not every fan gets that, but most do. Especially me. Being loaded down with dead weight like Ollie Perez and Luis Castillo? I’m allergic to such acts of desperation. If heaven can wait, so can a World Series title. All you need is patience and a plan.
— I wouldn’t trade David Wright. At least not anytime soon. Why jettison your best and most popular player? I don’t believe in breaking up your core just because it’s not bringing you championships. Hello?? Surround your core with better players. Not superstars, just better players. Funny how Wright started striking out more once the players around him started to really suck.
— I would do everything in my power to cultivate a homegrown closer. Trading for closers has been a very shaky proposition for more than 20 years. Franco. Benitez. Looper. Wagner. K-Rod. Heeeeeeeeeelp!! I know enough to try something new. I would convert a failed, overweight catcher to closer before signing another K-Rod.
— Admittedly, I know little about scouting talent. Simple: I’ll hire people who do. I delegate very well. But I do know this: Citi Field is a cavern. You need speed and defense to win at home. And left-handed hitters who can pull the ball to right. I’d be ordering them faster than cheeseburgers at Shake Shack.
— I’d hire a manager with no ego who is willing to work with me in perfect harmony. Alright, maybe I have to compromise a little here.
— I’ll work for free. Just give me my World Series share and ring if it ever comes to that.
Should the Mets take a pass on me, then I hope the new GM can get along with Wally Backman. That’s as much as I’ll reveal for now.
I’m waiting for my phone to ring.