Magical Manny Acta

The era of transparency and accountability ushered in by the Obama administration is slowly making its way down South Capitol Street towards Nationals Park. The "Fire [Randy/Manny/Stan]!" drumbeat has been growing louder as the losses mount, and understandably so. Fingers were made for pointing, goats were meant to be scaped and, despite fervent prayers, owners just don't fire themselves.

Canning the pitching coach is okay, maybe even justified when you have the worst bullpen in recorded history, but it doesn't exactly scream "Overhaul!" Axing the Team President certainly counts as a shakeup, but it's hard to do when he's a part-owner, and would the effects really trickle down to the play on the field? No, if you want maximum bang for your pink slip, the field manager is your guy. Whether you think that Manny Acta was never the right man for the job, that he lost the team at some point, or just that there has to be somebody out there who can do better, the evidence just keeps piling up.

Unfortunately you can't fire Manny Acta, because: MANNY HAS SUPER POWERS!

Look, I know what you're thinking. One too many blown saves has finally untethered Nate's mind from its increasingly fragile moorings. That's certainly a possibility, but consider this. The 2009 Washington Nationals have the worst defense in Major League Baseball and a historically bad relief corps. You think random chance could have brought the two together? HA!

Truth is, immediately after the opposing team strikes the ball Manny erupts from the dugout at speeds which render him invisible to MASN's X-MO camera, much less the puny human eye. In less time than it takes a hummingbird to flap its wings he subtly repositions the fielders so that Cristian Guzman doesn't get the glove down on a grounder, Willie Harris is forced to take circuitous routes to routine fly balls and Anderson Hernandez flinches away from relay throws at the last second. But super speed is just the beginning.

When a reliever's pitch randomly goes sailing to the backstop, or skidding into the dirt in front of home plate, that's Manny's telekenesis at work. Such is the power of Manny's mind that he can convince Charlie Slowes that a game ending fly out is actually a home run! And there's more.

Invisi-Manny creeps through the clubhouse just before game time loading down Adam Dunn's cleats with lead. The additional weight means that he's slow to balls in the gap and spikes throws into the outfield grass. Sometimes, when a Nats runner gets a good lead off first, Invisi-Manny will trip him just for spite.

"But that's ridiculous!", you say. "Manny Acta isn't out there sabotaging the players, causing the relievers to throw junk down the middle and the outfielders to miss cut-off men. He's the manager, sure, but he can't make Garrett Mock throw strikes or Adam Dunn play a ball off the wall properly."

To which my response is: "Fine. But if that's true, who do we fire?"