Theo’s Work Schedule

The tortuous process of prying Theo Epstein away from the Boston Red Sox has finally been concluded and now Epstein is a Chicago Cubs employee. Actually, he is the major domo of Cubs employees, president of baseball operations officially, but Patron Saint of Lost Causes in the fans’ view.

The Boy Wonder was 28 when he became general manager of the Boston Red Sox and while there are nit-pickers complaining about multi-million-dollar deals with players that didn’t work out, the bottom line is that the Red Sox won two World Series titles on his watch. That trumps all.

Now Epstein is 37 and ripe for a new challenge. Given that I have never heard him say he wanted to run for president of the United States instead of president of the Cubs, he settled for a tougher challenge than resurrecting the national economy. That would be guiding the Cubs into the World Series for the first time since 1945 and presiding over the Cubs winning their first World Series since 1908. About the Cubs’ 103-year drought it has been joked, “Anyone can have a bad century.” But the Ricketts family is showing it is not prepared to be the owners of record for a second bad century in a row.

Your turn Theo. I hope Epstein stopped at OfficeMax to buy a three-pack of yellow lined legal-size paper so he will be prepared to write out his to-do list for his first day of work. The Cubs were so bad this year at 71-91 that Epstein has too much to do on his first day. That is, unless he plans to buy a cot and move it into his office. He can be one of the those flag-pole sitters who say they won’t come down until his demands are met.

Epstein is being paid enough millions of dollars to afford a nice condo overlooking Lake Michigan, but the symbolism of him moving into the office with a portable bed and a hot plate would appeal to fans for whom the term “long-suffering” was invented.

The Cubs are such a mess that there is no obvious place for Epstein to start cleaning house. He needs a Costco-sized container of disinfectant, a vaccum cleaner the size of a Camry, and a broom the size of a 40-ounce bat. The problems are gargantuan. The team needs everything except a new Wrigley Field.

Let’s pretend that Epstein has an unlimited bank account, (which he might) and put him to work.

Give Albert Pujols whatever it takes to foresake the St. Louis Cardinals.

Identify and obtain pitchers who would be an upgrade over the current Wrigley cast of characters.

Fire manager Mike Quade. Quade got the job at the end of the 2010 season because he had a good month when Lou Piniella retired. Well, he had a bad year in 2011. Find a new guy. Could the right guy be Greg Maddux?

Install your old buddy Jed Hoyer, marking time in San Diego, as the new general manager. At the least so you have somebody to talk to in the front office who isn’t scared you will can him the next day.

Find a team willing to gamble on pitcher Carlos Zambrano. He is a disruptive head case in desperate need of a new environment to start fresh.

Keep Kerry Wood around one more year in middle relief if he can be signed for a reasonable dollar amount.

If one-time rookie-of-the-year Geovany Soto doesn’t start hitting again ship him out.

Give Carlos Pena one more chance to see if he can get his batting average above his weight.

Play Tyler Colvin every day in the outfield to see if he has what it takes.

Try to keep Aramis Ramirez around without paying him Carl Crawford money.

Convince somebody in the American League that Alfonso Soriano can be a worthy designated hitter and dump his huge contract.

Make nice with Ryne Sandberg, the Cubs’ Hall of Fame second baseman driven out of the organization when Quade became manager.

Bring back the old heroes, Ernie Banks, Billy Williams, and Ferguson Jenkins for any and all public relations functions.

Build a statue of recently deceased Ron Santo.

Draft, buy, steal, or trade for new players that are consistent at the plate, and that can run and field.

Purchase a surplus World War II Army helmet because you are going to have to duck flak for at least three years until the Cubs become serious pennant contenders.