A Rocky Road To The Show
This column is a reprint from Unwinnable Monthly #187. If you like what you see, grab the magazine for less than ten dollars, or subscribe and get all future magazines for half price.
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A tongue-in-cheek but also painfully earnest look at pop culture and anything else that deserves to be ridiculed while at the same time regarded with the utmost respect. It is written by Matt Marrone and emailed to Stu Horvath and David Shimomura, who add any typos or factual errors that might appear within.
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Matt Mambo got called into the skipper’s office in the bowels of Yankee Stadium.
The previous summer, he had been hitting just .199 when he was summoned by Aaron Boone, who told the teenaged, 6-foot-10, 290-pound first-round draft pick, Sorry, kid, we’re sending you back to Scranton Wilkes-Barre.
This season, Matt Mambo had made his return to the Bronx – and he was thriving. The “Road to the Show” difficulty settings on MLB: The Show ’25 had been radically adjusted, and his numbers were way up. He was feeling fantastic.
The New York Yankees? They weren’t winning a whole lot, and when Mambo met his manager, it wasn’t Boone shaking his hand anymore, but some generic NPC skipper. There was a new sheriff in town. No matter. Mambo couldn’t wait for the praise to be heaped on him, whoever the source.
“Matt,” to paraphrase Mr. Generic Skipper, “we’re just not seeing the progress we were hoping for.”
Mambo, shaking his head on the Nintendo Switch, couldn’t hide his disappointment. The 46-year-old holding the device? He was devastated.
“But you are hitting .355,” Mr. Generic Skipper continued, stupidly, “so we’re going to give you some more time up here to show you belong.”
Mambo nodded, shook the manager’s hand and was shown the door. “Thanks, Skip,” he said, a bit relieved. Meanwhile, the 46-year-old sat in his favorite white chair staring at the OLED screen with his jaw dropped.
He was still devastated. And just a little bit furious.
After all, my avatar was raking. OK, so I hadn’t leveled up his defense or his throwing ability or his baserunning. But I was tattooing the ball! And hitting .355! Three fifty-five!
Still, the criticism stung. It felt personal. Sure, Matt Mambo is fictional. And yes, for whatever reason, the real Yankees manager had been replaced by someone who frankly lacks the gravitas to assess my performance. But he had assessed it – and apparently, I was barely cutting it.
No way was Matt Mambo going back to the RailRiders. He had ruled in high school, skipped college after being drafted by his hometown team, rocked Double-A and crushed Triple-A. It was Mambo time.
Sure enough, he never looked back after that meeting. Mambo, hitting behind Aaron Judge in the lineup, has since set MLB single-season records for home runs, hits, RBIs, runs scored and batting average. He’s won two American League MVP Awards and two World Series MVP Awards, and is well on his way to a hat trick on both. His 72-game hit streak in 2027 is the new gold standard.
But his ego hasn’t fully recovered. He hasn’t met with his manager since. In fact, I’m pretty sure I recognized A.J. Hinch celebrating on the field when we won the 2029 pennant.
Each time his agent calls – once in a blue moon, I might add! – he very nearly chooses the option to ask for a trade. Now, he’s about to reach free agency after being strung along on a series of one-year deals.
Matt Mambo grew up dreaming of being a New York Yankee. He’s now their best player.
They better start showing a lot more love.
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Matt Marrone is a senior MLB editor at ESPN.com. He has been Unwinnable’s reigning Rookie of the Year since 2011. You can follow him on Twitter @thebigm.
