Sitting in the doctor's office and anticipating what is supposed to be an extremely painful procedure. That was me just last week. My wife was seated next to me trying to throw around a few too many comforting jokes to try and minimize the volatile emotion I was having. If she only knew what was on my mind.

Yes, I was very anxious of the upcoming pain I would be in. But I could not help but worry about the Cincinnati Reds. Maybe it was the cure for my apprehensive behavior, or it was that I should be in seeing an entirely different doctor all together. What ever the case may be, I was not a comfortable soul in these waiting minutes.

I started to shake real bad as one normally does when they become nervous and fear crept in as I saw the door that leads into the operating room swing open. The nurse looked at her chart and said his name; "Wayne, are you ready sir?" I thought, how convenient that this guy waiting to have surgery was appropriately named Wayne. I had just been thinking of a man named Wayne. Only my thoughts were of a different nature than those thoughts I gained for my prior waiting room buddy. I decided that it was Wayne (the patient) who gave me clarity as to why I was thinking about the Reds and not the brutal procedure that was about to be performed on me.

Wayne entered the operating room and I couldn't help but notice the peace on his face. What was he here for? Was he just having a simple procedure today or was he here to endure the same unfortunate experience as I? I looked back at the chair he was seated in and realized why I liked this guy from the beginning. I saw a copy of this month's Sports Illustrated lying there on his chair and it was inviting. Did this man, Wayne, have an abundant way of calming his nerves? As I thought about that for a moment, I found myself up out of my chair and walking toward Wayne's magazine. I picked it up and was again thinking about the Reds. I was suddenly feeling the same kind of peace that Wayne had been feeling. I started flipping through the pages looking for anything related to the baseball team in Cincinnati. Of course, there was nothing. I smirked as my wife looked back at me and smiled saying; "I knew you would cheer up. It's just too bad that it was sports instead of me that made you feel better." Naturally, I felt like a bag of fresh dog dung and stepped forward to embrace her. But as I leaned in for that loving hug, the creepy door to the operating room opened and there was my nurse; "David, are you ready to go?"

To my surprise, I was not afraid at all and proceeded toward the often dreaded area where I knew I was embarking on an entire new set of emotions. But my original feelings on the Reds and my old waiting room neighbor, Wayne, could not escape me.

While I was being prepped for my procedure Wayne walked past me and winked as if everything was going to be alright. I likened his good nature to the other Wayne that could not get out of my mind. Needless to say, I lived through my discogram and do not recommend it to anyone who is afraid of pain.

But I came out of that surgical center with more than answers to my back problems. I walked away with a funny waiting room experience that enthroned a newfound glory toward my beloved baseball team. As Wayne (the patient) was so eager to share with me that everything was going to be alright, is Wayne Krivsky throwing out the same placebo-esque GM talk that many of us are very tired of? Wayne (the patient) had no clue what procedure I was about to go through, and come to find out it is one of the most painful procedures anyone can have. But he had a need to wink at me and try and make me more comfortable. Screw you buddy! That wink became nothing to me while I was lying there in intense pain on the operating table.

Wayne Krivsky hasn't said much this offseason, but when he does say things, they are of typical GM speak. I have found it easier to read between the lines now and am not exactly sure that Krivsky is feeling like everything will be alright. And if he doesn't feel that way, why should we?

No more comforting gestures. We will be patient for you Mr. Krivsky, for the sake of this organization. But this offseason, you had better believe that everything will be alright. And realize that it will not fall in your lap. It is hard to convince others to take on your crap and give you something of value in return. But ultimately, that is your job and we will need you to make something like that happen.

Right now, I am in the waiting room looking for Wayne. Which Wayne will I get? The guy who comforted me through his ability to find peace through a Sports Illustrated magazine? Or will I find Wayne, that guy who tells you everything will be alright even though he has no clue as to what you are about to go through.

Of course I prefer the first Wayne, and I would hope that his copy of Sports Illustrated has the top-notch cover story of the deal of a lifetime. Or at least the top 10 reasons why the Cincinnati Reds will win the World Series in 2008. That is much better than the latter Wayne who will simply try and make a few comments that attempt to conceal his dereliction to duty.

Which Wayne are you all looking for? And which Wayne will you find? Who is this guy running our baseball team?