“Hello? Neal? Neal Huntington, wake up! This is your boss, Bob Nutting. I just saw the damnedest informercial on the Food Network and we totally have to get this for the Pirates. It’s this pitching machine, right? But instead of looking at the machine shoot you the ball, it’s hidden behind a screen and a pitcher is pitching on the screen and then the ball comes through the screen!”

“Mr. Nutting, sir? Have you been playing with the espresso machine after midnight again?”

“No! Well, yes. But that’s not important now. Both the New York teams, the Red Sox, and the Indians have these. They can pitch any kind of pitch at any speed and it totally looks real!”

“Sir, those teams also have poured an immense amount of cash into player development and the draft system. Do you know how much we spent at the draft last year?”

“A lot?”

“What’s the opposite of ‘a lot’? That’s what we spent. We were able to draft above slot in the 16th round only when Accounting promised to limit themselves to one packet of sugar for each cup of coffee this year.”

“… so you’re saying I shouldn’t get the machine? ‘Cause the Yankees and the Mets have the machine and they’re both…”

“No, sir, you can get the pitching machine with the DVD player and the captain’s chair if you want. However, let’s get better young players that will appreciate the pitching machine with the massage action and the mini-fridge and assign them development plans and personalized instruction, too.”

“Okay, but we’re getting the machines, too. Right?”

“sigh. Yes, sir, I’ll look at the procurement budget for Player Development in the morning. Now turn off the television and go to sleep, sir.”

“In a little bit, Neal. I’m going to see if I can set up a screen in front of the espresso machine and get Joe DiMaggio to hand me a cup of coffee through the screen. Hey, do you think we could get the machine to pitch for us as the fifth starter? We could use it against near-sighted teams.”

“I’ll check tomorrow. Good night, sir.”

“G’night, Neal.”