Thanks to Chase Utley, there isn’t a ton of fun Phillies news right now, so let’s turn out attention. How about the one Ryan Madson plays for? I forget who it is, exactly. One of the red ones. No, not us. The important part isn’t who it is, really, it’s that Ryan does, in fact, play for them and not the Phillies. And that is how we enter the twisted, sinister plot that put him there, Ryan promises us.
Ryan’s been weaving a tale ever since the Ruben Amaro and company let him go. He’s been spouting off. Naming names. Striking nerves. And the truth is, we may never know what really happened. But we’re going to know what Ryan Madson think happened. Because he won’t stop telling us.
We begin with the Phillies’ front office. A normal looking office at first; made out of bricks and mortar, probably… insulated with asbestos, so Rich Dubee is only a fist through the wall away from his favorite snack at any time. But inside lurks the shadowy conspiracies that can only exist in baseball. Because they involve baseball players.
Ruben Amaro isn’t known for his honesty. During his second acquisition of Cliff Lee, Ruben was asked straight up if he was trying to acquire Cliff Lee. He said no.
Fortunately, this was one of those hilarious, fun lies that we could all slap him on the back for and celebrate his shiftiness for getting us a fourth ace. Sadly, however, Ruben proved last season that his evilness is not always used for good. His denial of any serious injury to Chase Utley had us all optimistic for weeks before it was finally confirmed that patellar tendinitis is quite more serious than the “nothing, really” we were convinced it was.
Ruben will tell us–and anyone else–exactly what they need to hear for him to get what he wants, whether that be Cliff Lee or widespread masses not rioting from sheer panic. And this past winter, what he apparently wanted Ryan Madson to hear was that the Phillies wanted him back, according to Madson and his agent Scott Boras, the most honest man in baseball.
Sadly, Ryan’s response has become that of every conspiracy theorist when asked to “prove it.”
“I can’t prove it. But I do believe it.”
What he specifically believes is that a verbal agreement was reached between Ruben and Boras, which Madson may have felt was not quite enough to calm his nerves when the Phillies gave Papelbon $50 million.
Now, he give short, curt responses in interviews, and shouts things on the side of a freeway exit while clutching a briefcase with papers sticking out of it. In Cincinnati, however, they are prepared to ignore this behavior, as Ryan is pretty talented, and seems to certainly be saying out loud that he is happy there and is ready to move forward. Which makes it curious why he keeps bringing up the ‘verbal agreement’ thing; almost as if he’s become completely consumed by his theory–driving his family away as his madness spreads quickly to the surface.
Meanwhile, Ruben sits comfortably in his tower, toking a cigar and having a sinister chuckle while overlooking his empire. Yes, it all came together for Ruben… but at what cost?
$50 million. That was the cost of Jonathan Papelbon. Remember.