Terry Collins looks to the recent past for guidance

A phone rings in Los Angeles.

BOB GEREN: Hello, you’ve reached Bob Geren of the Los Angeles Dodgers.
TERRY COLLINS: Bobby baby!
GEREN: Who’s this?
COLLINS: It’s Terry Collins, your old skipper, dangnabbit!
GEREN: Oh, hey, Terry. It’s been a while. What can I do for you?
COLLINS: I need you, Bob! I’m dying out here. You have to make out the lineup for me, like old times. I’M SO CONFUSED WITHOUT YOU!
GEREN: But Terry, I work for the Dodgers now.
COLLINS: I know, but . . . PLEASE!
GEREN: It would be unethical.
COLLINS: I’m begging you, Bob. I’m down on my knees here!
GEREN: Are you crying? Stop crying, Terry. You know I hate it when you . . .
COLLINS: WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO, BOB??
GEREN (sighs): Okay, well, what’s the problem?
COLLINS: I can’t get Wilmer Flores into a game! He’s hit more homers than anyone in baseball this July, but it’s impossible to get him into the lineup. It simply can’t be done.
GEREN: Impossible?
COLLINS: Look at my infield. I’ve got Loney at first base. Walker, he’s been terrible, but he’s my cleanup guy. I’ve got to get him going. Then there’s Cabrera at short. The last time he’s gotten a hit with runners on was in May. Did you hear that, Bob? May! So he’s due. Then we’ve got Jose Reyes at 3B. Can’t sit him! Sandy says so.
GEREN: Never? Really?
COLLINS: I manage with a clenched sphincter, Bob. You know that. It’s my signature look! A CLENCHED SPHINCTER!
GEREN: Yes, but . . .
COLLINS: Then the outfield, what a mess. Cespedes doesn’t want to play center anymore. Says his legs are shot. But we just brought up Conforto and sent Nimmo down. Can’t sit Conforto! We didn’t bring him up to sit him down, for Cripes Sakes!
GEREN: Well, you can’t play with two left fielders, Terry.
COLLINS: I can’t, right? I mean, you are sure about that?
GEREN (sighs): Pretty sure, Terry.
COLLINS: I couldn’t call it a sabermetrical shift or something like that?
GEREN: Terry. Really? Sabermetrical?
COLLINS: I’m desperate, Bob! I’m thinking about moving Conforto to center.
GEREN: Conforto? Are you talking about Michael Conforto?
COLLIN: I need his bat in there.
GERENS: Last time I looked, outfielders wear gloves, not bats, Terry. Besides, you have Juan Lagares. A gold glover. He catches everything.
COLLINS: Yeah, but he can’t hit righties.
GEREN: Maybe, but . . .
COLLINS: When Duda gets back, I might put him in right.
GEREN: Wait, what?
COLLINS: Loney is too good to sit! But we need Duda’s bat in there!
GEREN: Terry, I got to go. I think you are making this harder than it has to be. Look, just let Flores get starts all over the infield. That was the plan, remember? Give guys days off. Wilmer can easily get four starts a week. Keep everybody fresh. And don’t forget to use Johnson in certain match-ups . . .
COLLINS (confused): Davey Johnson? Howard Johnson?
GEREN: No, the guy from the Braves. Kelly Johnson.
COLLINS: He’s on the team, too? Dangnabbit, I always forget about Johnson! I’m going crazy here, Bob.
GEREN: Yeah, well, um, I’ve got to go, Terry. I’ve got my own team to worry about.
COLLINS: Please, Bob. Just make out one stinkin’ lineup for me. Just one. For old time’s sake!
GEREN: Sorry, Terry. (Click. He hangs up.)
COLLINS: ARRRRGGGGHHHH!

Collins, muttering to himself, begins dialing furiously.

VOICE: Hello?
COLLINS: Hello, is this Theresa Caputo, the Long Island Medium? What do you know about baseball . . . ?