The Adventures of Cecil & Prince: Contract Talks


Big Ceece: Mothafuckin’ gonna pay my boy. We goin’a get paid ta-day. I’m gonna do the right thing. Gonna get on the horn, and handle this white boy Doug Melvin. Gonna tell him how it is. Gonna tell him my boy Prince is worth all the stars in the sky. I’m gonna tell him jump and before his head hits the ceilin’ I’m gonna let him know it ain’t high enough. After I’m done twisting his arm, I’m going to Red Lobster and crackin’ some crab legs. It’s on me.

[pages through rolodex, finds Brewers General Manager Doug Melvin’s #]

Phone: ring…… ring…… ring…… ring…..

Doug Melvin Voicemail: Hi! You’ve reached the voicemail of Doug Melvin, General Manager of the Milwaukee Brewers! I’m sorry that I can’t answer your calls at this time, but leave a clear and concise message, and I’ll be sure to get back to you as time demands.

Big Ceece: (rhetoric thought) Damn Melvin. He’s dodging me. Well I got a concise message for him. How about I hold this sidekick to my ass and let my big black cheeks talk to him for a while. That sun-a-ma-bitch. He best know my number by heart and he best be answering when I come lookin to talk Champ’s contract.

Big Ceece: Yo, Melvin. This is Prince’s agent, and his father; Cecil Fielder. I had a few things I wanted to go over with you. Call me back as soon as possible, and trust me–it is in your best interest to call me back. Time’s waistin’ and Big Ceece is a man who means what he says and says what he means. You’re costin’ yourself by the second.

[Hangs up phone]

Big Ceece: I know he’ll eat that last line up. I know just how to strong arm these GM types. Champ’s gonna be real proud of pops this time around. Just gotta get this thing negotiated out before that snake in my boots Scott Boras catches wind that I’m representin’ Champ now. I think I’ll make a samich and wait for Melvin to call me back.

[Makes bolognese samich….waits…..waits longer…..waits 40 minutes…..hour…..hour & 20]

Big Ceece: Aw fuck this! I’m calling that little weaslin’ shit ass back!

Phone: ring…..ring……

Doug Melvin: This is Doug Melvin…..

Big Ceece: Melvin! What are you, dodgin’ me? Is this how you treat all your business colleagues bra’?

Doug Melvin: I’m sorry I don’t recall who this is?

Big Ceece: Well the least you could do is return my ph– YOU DON’T KNOW WHO THIS IS? This is Cecil….

Doug Melvin: Cecil… Cecil…. hmmmmm, I don’t know any Cecil?

Big Ceece: The fuck you don’t. Prince’s pops. I’m representin’ my boy now and I wanted to talk about that big fat contract you’re gonna be paying him starting on March 31st.

Doug Melvin: Cecil Fielder! Hello. It’s been a long time! Actually I don’t recall ever meeting you. Sorry for the oversight. To my knowledge Mr. Boras handles Prince as a client, and we’ve got an exclusive working relationship going forward.

Big Ceece: The fuck you do. You’re going to have an exclusive working relationship with my size 13 moving up towards your mouth if you don’t start sounding a bit more positive. Boras quit. He told us last night. I’m in the captain’s chair now, and I’ll be doing the negotiating.

Doug Melvin: Um, very well then Cecil. What did you have in mind?

Big Ceece: That’s more like it. Well if you’d listened to my voicemail, you’d know that I am calling about Champ’s contract. It needs renewed. So you tell me, how much is a 70-home run, .300 hitting monster worth to you? You Kevin Kennedy-lookin’ sorry ass? AND don’t make me play hardball.

Doug Melvin: Kevin KennedyWell, we have a certain ‘system’ in place that we like to use in re-upping deals with our younger players. We feel that Prince’s best chance at earning his relative value at this time is on a year-by-year basis. We were thinking something in the one million range for 2008. How do you feel about that?

Big Ceece: (Thinks about how quickly $1 million goes on a bad night at the craps tables) Naw. Naw. Fuck that. I’ll tell you how I feel about that. Let me ask you; you needle-nosed, lock-jaw prick. What does your wife do for a living?

Doug Melvin: I don’t see how that is a relevant question, Mr. Fielder….

Big Ceece: Answer the question. You front-office types are all the same. You wanna take and take but you won’t give it back.

Doug Melvin: She’s a house wife. She hasn’t had to work in years because of my security.

Big Ceece: Well let’s say dat’ bitch is a store manager at Winn-Dixie. Hypothetics. The best store managers at the Winn-Dixie make around $35K a year. Your wife is the best in the nation. I pull her up into my office, and I offer her $15K to do a bang-up job. That isn’t hardly fair to you is it Mel? Do you mind if I call you Mel?

Doug Melvin: Don’t call me Mel and do NOT refer to my wife as derogatory superlatives Mr Fielder. Now you’re skating on thin ice. The reason Prince is not worth more to us is he has to prove it over the long-haul. Prince has to prove he can battle the demons in the scale, something you couldn’t do over the course of your career, Mr. Fielder.

Big Ceece: And the ice you’re skating on just got cracked cause I used your fuckin’ head like a mallet. Get this through your head: we want 12 years, $300 million–and not a penny less you no good, cheap, booger-baitin’ son of ma’ bitch! Do you understand me? And I just bitch slapped your wife with a honey baked ham on her way out of office at the Winn-Dixie! You wanna play hard ball with Pops then that’s what you get. This should be painless.

Doug Melvin: Prince will be signed for $675,000 for this year. You’ve just earned that for him. This conversation is over.

[hangs up phone sternly]

Big Ceece: Damnit! You ain’t listenin’ son! My boy–

Phone: (dial tone)

Big Ceece: For fuck’s sakes. (Thinks about how quickly $675,ooo goes at the craps table on a bad night)

Big Ceece: I gotta do something. Champ is gonna be spittin’ mad. Quick Big Daddy! Think of somethin!

[Prince enters room with Big Ceece looking like he’s got hand caught in cookie jar]



Prince: Sup’ Pops?



Big Ceece: (mean
dering tone) Wuh’uh hey Champ! How’s it going?




Prince: Not so bad. Just got done with spring practice for the day. About to call Boras and see what’s goin’ on wit’ my contract. Gotta get paid ya know. Gotta get paid.



Big Ceece: Well…. I’ve got just the thing for you. Put down that phone! Come out into the garage. Pops got you somethin’ real nice. Something real fatherly.



[Garage]



Big Ceece: Tadaaaa! How do you like em? Don’t go getting all mushy on me now! They didn’t set your dear old pops back too bad! Grab your clubs and I’ll rent a set! We gotta get going, we’re hitting the links in 15 minutes.





Prince: Pops! These ain’t new clubs! You had this old bag of shit since I was nine! And you lost these to Alan Trammel in that game of ‘closest to the pin’. These aren’t even technically yours!

Big Ceece: Well…. what do you mean? This is how you treat someone giving you a gift? Well fine, I’ll take em back. I bet Billy Hall’s son would love to have these as a learner set. Son, you gotta learn when someone gifts you something…. you best be thankful! ‘Old bag of shit’. I need to box those ears on that big old cantylope head-a yours?

Prince: I’m goin’ to call Boras. I got business to conduct. We got a conference call with Doug Melvin in two hours. Gotta gameplan and get those dolla dollas for the dolly’s know what I’m sayin?

[Slips on a pair of Oakley shades]

Big Ceece: UH-NO DON’T DO THAT!

[Breaks Prince’s cell phone]

Prince: The fuck you do that for dumb shit?

Big Ceece: Boras is sick today, don’t bother him.

Prince: Hmmm. You’re actin’ awful strange pops. I smell somethin’. Do you smell that?

Big Ceece: Well I was just getting ready to fire up the grill for some teriyaki glazed whiting. Whiting is a good fish. You hungry?

Prince: (sniffs) Nah. I ain’t hungry. And I smell somethin’ else. I smell a rat. And when it smells like a rat, and it looks like Cecil…. it’s a rat. Do you got somethin to tell me bout Pops?

Big Ceece: Well actually I do. You know how when you were a little boy and I took you to that matinee and we stayed there all day on the Tigers off day, and we saw every movie in the theater?

Prince: Cut the shit fat man. What the fuck ‘d you do?

Big Ceece: I called Melvin on our behalf earlier today. I negotiated your contract. You’re playing this year for a smaller amount than you wanted.

Prince: YOU DID WHAT? HOW SMALL OF AN AMOUNT WE TALKING!?!!?!!!

Big Ceece: 1-year/$675,000

Prince: MOTHA-FUCK! SHIT! GOBBLYGOOHOLYSHANAFUCKER! POPS! YOU STUPID PIECE OF LLAMA SHIT!

Big Ceece: I know. But you don’t understand. That Melvin! He’s evil, he’s greedy. There was no way around it.

Prince: Pops, you had no business handlin’ my business. I don’t even like you. You’re the slimiest creature on earth. You got no negotiation power. I gotta go fix this. You leave me alone you worm!

[Punches Cecil in the dick]

To Be Continued……..