The Nationals signed Livan Hernandez after he was released by the Mets last week. If you’re not familiar with ¡Livo!, you absolutely will be, soon. He’s boisterous, outspoken, and good with a set of golf clubs. His return to the Nationals likely went something like this:
Interior, Mike Rizzo’s hotel suite in Chicago. Looks out over the city, with big bay windows. Two of the big blinds are up, while two are sort of askew. Camera pans to Mike Rizzo, General Manager of the Nationals, curled up on his couch, wearing a Terps polo and khakis, but also a blond wig and a set of mardi gras beads. He’s asleep, with his hand in a bowl of water, and a damp patch at his crotch.
¡Livan! bursts out of the coat closet carrying a nine-iron. He’s dressed in a NATINALS jersey, and that’s it.
¡Livan!: HEEEEEYYYY RIZZO!
Rizzo starts awake, knocking the wig askew. He notes the hand and crotch situation with some disgust, and he reaches for his pounding head.
Rizzo: God. What happened last night? Is that a handle of tequila over there?
¡Livan!: YOU KNOW IT! Dios, it feels good to be a National again.
Rizzo: Wait, what? I know things get crazy when there’s tequila, but I signed you last night? Oh man, Stan’s going to be so very angry. He warned me never to drink with you.
¡Livan!: Stan’s a lightweight. You, though, you can hold your own. So, when can I start?
Rizzo: Judging by the papers on this desk, we sent Collin Balester down, and he was pitching tonight, so you’d better go get fresh and ready. And get a jersey that’s spelled right.
¡Livan!: No, I like this one. Gives me character!
Livan swings the 9-iron in victory! Rizzo clutches his head and hopes it’s for the best. Like getting back into bed with your ex, it’s either a recipe for something amazing, or a path toward damnation. Only time will tell.