Hal: Hey Derek, how much you want to break some records for me the next coupla years?
Derek: I dunno, a hundred fifteen for five years.
Hal: Ha! I've already made you rich beyond what you deserve. Get real.
Derek: Okay, then a hundred for four years.
Hal: Are you kidding me? You're out of gas at 37 and you want me to pay you at 41?
Derek: L'equipe, c'est moi.
Hal: Your glove can't handle short and your bat doesn't play anywhere else but second. And Cano way we're moving you there. I'll give you 45 for three, but only because of our special bond.
Derek: That will not do. I am the Yankee captain. Everyone loves me. I will attain my 3,000th hit.
Hal: Fine, go play the field. See how much Pinstripe Pride is worth in Houston. Enjoy that legendary Mariner tradition. I hear summer in Dallas is nice. You'll love hiding in the power-packed Padre lineup. After the Diamondbacks offer you 15 for two years in left field, come on back. The offer will remain on the table.
Waldo: Psst, Derek. Sign the deal. Make a budget. Cement your legacy. Pretend you're going out on your terms. Die a Yankee.
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