Ohhh, I'm Gonna Have Your Job, Shitheads...

Minaya: Let me have your attention for a moment!

So you're talking about what? You're talking about...(puts out his cigarette) ... bitching about that save you blew, some son of a bitch struck you out, somebody got a cheap hit off you, some guy caught your line drive and so forth. Let's talk about something important. (to Randolph) Are they all here?

Randolph: All but Wright.

Minaya: Well, I'm going anyway. Let's talk about something important!

(to Wagner) Put that coffee down!! Coffee's for closers only.

Do you think I'm fucking with you? I am not fucking with you.

I'm here from the front office. I'm here from Fred and Jeff Wilpon. And I'm here on a mission of mercy.

Your name's Wagner?

Wagner: Yeah.

Minaya: You call yourself a closer, you son of a bitch?

Lo Duca: I don't gotta listen to this shit.

Minaya: You certainly don't pal. 'Cause the good news is -- you're fired. The bad news is you've got, all you got, just three games to regain your jobs, starting tonight. Starting with tonight's game.

Oh, have I got your attention now?

Good. 'Cause we're adding a little something to the rest of the season. As you all know, first prize is an NL East title. Anyone want to see second prize? Second prize's a wild card spot. Third prize is you're fired.

You get the picture? You're laughing now?

You all got contracts. Fred and Jeff paid good money. Get ball and hit it! You can't hit the ball, you can't catch shit, you can't close shit, you ARE shit, hit the bricks pal and beat it 'cause you are going out!

Wagner: My arm is weak.

Minaya: "My arm is weak." My fucking arm is weak? You're weak. I've been in this business fifteen years.

Lo Duca: What's your name?

Minaya: FUCK YOU, that's my name! You know why, Mister? 'Cause you drove a bullpen car to get here tonight, I drove an eighty thousand dollar BMW. That's my name!

(to Wagner) And your name is "you're wanting." And you can't play in a man's game. You can't close them. (at a near whisper) And you go home and tell your wife your troubles. (to everyone again)

Because only one thing counts in this life! Hit and pitch the ball that is stitched!

You hear me, you fucking faggots?

(Minaya flips over a blackboard which has two sets of letters on it: ABC, and RHCP.)

Minaya: A-B-C. A-always, B-be, C-closing. Always be closing! (looks at Wagner) Always be closing!!

R-H-C-P. Run, hit, catch, pitch. Run -- (to Delgado) will you please run to first base? Hit -- (to Reyes) can you hit the ball? I know you can because it's fuck or walk. You hit the ball or you hit the bricks! Catch -- (to Alou) can you catch the ball for Christ?!! And pitch. (to Heilman) Pitch, you fuckin' cocksucker! R-H-C-P. Get out there!! You got shitty teams comin' in; you think they came in to get out of the rain? Last place team don't walk on the field in September lest it wants to lose!

They're sitting out there waiting to give you a win!

Are you gonna take it?

Are you man enough to take it?

(to Lo Duca) What's the problem pal? You. Lo Duca.

Lo Duca: You're such a hero, you're so smart. Why you coming down here and waste your time on a bunch of bums?

(Minaya walks over to Randolph and takes off his 1977 World Series ring)

Minaya: You see this ring? You see this ring?

Lo Duca: Yeah.

Minaya: This ring cost more than your car. Your manager's won a dozen championships. How many have you won?

You see, pal, that's who he is. And you're nothing.

Nice guy? I don't give a shit.

Good father? Fuck you -- go home and play with your kids!!

(to everyone) You wanna work here?

Win!!

(to Heilman) You think this is abuse? You think this is abuse, you cocksucker? You can't take this -- how can you take the abuse you get during a game?! You don't like it -- leave. I can go out there tonight with the materials you got, and win 15 to nothing! Tonight! In two hours! Can you?

Can you?

Go and do likewise! R-H-C-P!! Get mad! You sons of bitches! Get mad!! You know what it takes to win ball games?

It takes brass balls to win ball games.

Go and do likewise, gents. The win's are out there, you pick 'em up, they're yours. You don't--I have no sympathy for you. You wanna go out on those games this weekend and win, win, they're yours. If not you're going to be shining my shoes. Bunch of losers sitting around in a bar. (in a mocking weak voice) "Oh yeah, I used to be a ballplayer, it's a tough racket."

(he takes out large stack of red index cards tied together with string from his briefcase) These are the playoffs. And to you, they're gold. And you don't get them. Because to give them to you is just throwing them away.

(he hands the stack to Randolph)

They're for winners.

I'd wish you good luck but you wouldn't know what to do with it if you got it.

(to Lo Duca) And to answer your question, pal: why am I here?

I came here because Fred and Jeff asked me to, they asked me for a favor.

I said, the real favor, follow my advice and fire your fucking ass, because a loser is a loser.

(editor's note: original speech here)