One of the more specious mantras you’ll hear from sports talk blowhards is, “I never call for a man’s job. That’s his livelihood. He has kids…”
Then 15 minutes later he calls for a player to be cut or traded or otherwise discarded.
Sure, in theory you never want to see a man fired from his job. It’s bad aesthetics, bad optics, if not bad karma. But the moment a ballplayer plunges below the Mendoza line, we want him on the next Greyhound to Toledo. When that pitcher you’ve always disliked serves up three homers in four innings, you’re ready to stamp and laminate his ticket to the broadcast booth.