The Sweep


(Jerry is reading the newspaper while Steve sits nearby, eager for any positive news about the Mets.)

JERRY: (reading newspaper) Hey, look here, the Post says despite the sweep, the Mets actually look like a good team.

STEVE: (excited) Really?

JERRY: April Fool.

STEVE: (disappointed) That’s not funny, Jerry.

JERRY: Well, I don’t know what’s worse, the play on the field or the dance team.

ELAINE:  I kind of like the dance team. It gives me something to watch during the slow parts.

STEVE: (sighs) Slow parts? We’re talking about baseball here, Elaine, not some Broadway musical.

JERRY: Yeah, but at least Broadway musicals have some rhythm.

STEVE: (defensively) Well, it’s all part of the experience, you know? We’re trying to create a vibrant atmosphere at Citi Field.

JERRY: (sarcastically) Oh yeah, because nothing says baseball like dancers in skimpy outfits prancing around between innings.

STEVE: (ignoring Jerry’s comment) Besides, the fans seem to enjoy it. It adds some energy to the ballpark.

JERRY: (rolling his eyes) Energy, huh? More like a distraction from the fact that the team can’t hit a curveball.

ELAINE: (interjecting) Speaking of distractions, what’s with those new black uniforms? They look like something out of a funeral parlor.

STEVE: (defending the uniforms) They’re sleek and modern! A nod to our heritage.

JERRY: (deadpan) Yeah, because nothing says Mets heritage like mourning the loss of another season. I was at least hoping for meaningful games in April.

STEVE: (exasperated) Okay, okay, enough with the jokes. Can’t you guys be a little supportive for once?

JERRY: (smirking) Supportive? That’s what the dance team’s for, Steve.


NEWMAN: (pointing) Hey, Kramer, take a gander at that.

KRAMER: (peering) Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Polar Bear himself!

NEWMAN: Roller skating, no less. Quite the peculiar choice after a series sweep.

KRAMER: (nodding knowingly)And they have a game tonight.  That’s not good for the optics.  Shouldn’t he be working out, or at least watching game films?

NEWMAN: (smirking) Indeed. Perhaps I will take some pictures to send to the Post.

The duo observes Pete’s roller-skating adventure with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, pondering the quirks of athletes’ pre-game activities.


Steve sits at his desk, visibly frustrated, while David enters with a stack of papers.

STEVE: (frustrated) I just don’t understand what went wrong this weekend, David. We should have swept the Brewers.

DAVID: (taking a seat opposite Steve) Well, you see, the Brewers have a pretty strong front office.

STEVE: (perplexed) Pretty strong front office? I thought YOU were the brains behind the Brewers’ front office?

DAVID: (chuckling) Oh, Steve, if I were the brains behind the Brewers, do you really think I’d be working for the Mets?

STEVE:  Let’s move forward. We’re going to beat the Tigers, right?

DAVID:  Oh not a chance.

STEVE: (stunned) Wait, so you’re saying we’re doomed against the Tigers?

DAVID: (nodding) Afraid so, Steve. Reese Olson versus Sean Manaea? That’s not exactly a recipe for success.

STEVE: (frustrated) Not a recipe for success? David, I need some optimism here! I can’t have you walking around with that defeatist attitude.

DAVID: (raising an eyebrow) Well, I’m just being realistic, Steve. We need to manage our expectations.

STEVE: (exasperated) Manage our expectations? David, this is the New York Mets! We don’t just manage expectations, we exceed them!

DAVID: (chuckling) Alright, alright, no need to get worked up. I’ll see what I can do to boost morale.

DAVID: (raising an eyebrow) Oh, and one more thing, Steve. We ordered 15,000 rugby shirts for tonight’s promotion, but with the rain in the forecast and the team looking terrible, what should we do with the extra 4,000 shirts?

STEVE: (rubbing his chin, contemplating) Hmm… Well, we could always donate them to Fr. Michael’s charity.

DAVID:  Will do, Steve. Consider it taken care of.



Rain pours down onto the nearly empty stadium seats as the dance team, clad in their newly acquired shirts from Fanatics, tries to entertain the non-existent crowd from the field. Steve and David watch from under an awning, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and horror.

STEVE: (grimacing) Oh no, David, look at them. Those shirts were supposed to be top-quality!

DAVID: (shaking his head) It appears the rain has other plans. Fanatics might need to reconsider their definition of “waterproof.”

The dance team’s shirts, now soaked through, cling to their bodies, leaving little to the imagination. The situation becomes increasingly uncomfortable to watch.

STEVE: (covering his eyes) This is a disaster. How are we supposed to maintain any semblance of professionalism with… that?

DAVID: (grimacing) It seems we’ve unwittingly stumbled into a wet T-shirt contest. And I don’t think the fans are pleased with the unexpected turn of events.  I guess it’s a good thing almost nobody is here.

Steve and David exchange a glance, realizing the PR nightmare unfolding before their eyes as the rain continues to drench the unfortunate dance team.