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Throw bats in the showers. Shut off the hot water. Take the whirlpool out of the clubhouse. Replace the buffet spread with a loaf of Wonder and some cold cuts. Sacrifice a live chicken. Do shots to Jobu.

Then cut Trevor Hoffman.

Forget Ken Macha. Whether you agree or disagree with his managerial style, Ken Macha can’t swing the bat. Ken Macha can’t turn a twin killing. Ken Macha can’t place a fastball. Ken Macha can’t run the bases. Ken Macha can’t close out the game.

There might be a momentary shake-up with the canning of the manager, and there’s certainly an argument to be made that Macha must go, but ultimately, there’s no trepidation to be generated in booting the staff. The player needs to fear for HIS job.

Get in there Melvin and do what you know must be done: “You wanna play for the Milwaukee Brewers? Then you’d better perform. None of you is safe.”

Never has it been more “Trevor Time.”