The HVAC Game: What to Know Before You Hire a Technician or Replace Your Unit

You just can’t make this stuff up.

Los Angeles Angels GM Perry Minasian stood there, looked a reporter dead in the eye, and with a straight face, insisted the air conditioning at the stadium was "great, very cold." He even claimed his $63 million pitcher, Yusei Kikuchi, "never complained all year about the amenities."

This was after Kikuchi, one of the few competent people in that entire organization, told reporters he had to leave a game with cramps because he was warming up in a sweatbox with no AC.

And then, like a punchline written by a vengeful god, a job posting for a part-time `hvac technician` appeared on the Angels' official website the very same day.

It’s a masterclass in corporate denial. No, 'masterclass' is too generous—it’s the kind of clumsy lie a kid tells with chocolate all over his face. You have to wonder what’s going through a guy’s head in that moment. Does he think we’re all idiots? Does he believe his own nonsense? Or is he just so beaten down by the dysfunction that lying is easier than admitting the truth?

A Symptom of a Much Deeper Sickness

Let's be brutally honest: this isn't about an `hvac system`. It’s not about a broken thermostat or a clogged `hvac filter`. This is about a culture of cheapness and disrespect that has rotted the Los Angeles Angels from the inside out, courtesy of owner Arte Moreno.

This whole fiasco is the perfect metaphor for the modern Angels franchise. It’s like a cheap landlord telling you the black mold is just 'avant-garde wallpaper' while you can hear him on the phone with a `commercial hvac` company. They’ll deny the problem to your face, call you a liar for pointing it out, and then quietly try to fix it, hoping no one notices the `hvac repair` van outside.

Former outfielder Kevin Pillar wasn't surprised. He went on a podcast and basically said what everyone knows: the facilities are a joke and Moreno needs to "spend some money." He called it a selling point for free agents, and noted the Angels are "very far behind." You think? When your star pitcher is cramping up because you won't pay the electric bill, you’re not just behind, you're in a different, much sadder league.

It reminds me of trying to get tech support for my internet service last week. They kept insisting the problem was my router, my computer, my dog, the alignment of the planets—anything but their garbage network. It's the same playbook. Deny, deflect, and demean the person with the actual problem.

What kind of message does this send to the rest of the players? Shut up and sweat? Don't you dare ask for basic professional amenities, because our GM will just call you a liar in the press. It’s absolutely pathetic. And for what? To save a few thousand bucks on `hvac maintenance`? Give me a break.

The Cost of Being Cheap

So the Angels are now looking for someone to fill one of the most ironic `hvac jobs` in America. The pay is $39.38 an hour, minus union dues. I hope whoever takes it knows what they’re walking into. They aren't just getting an `hvac technician` job; they’re becoming a central figure in a public relations disaster. They’ll probably have to sign an NDA about the state of the ductwork.

The timing is, offcourse, the most damning part. Minasian could have just said, "Yeah, a unit went down, we're working on it." A simple, honest answer. But he couldn't do it. The institutional arrogance is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Instead, he chose to gaslight his own player and the media.

This is why the Angels are a perpetual laughingstock while their crosstown rivals, the Dodgers, are competing for championships. One organization invests in its players and facilities, understanding that small things create a winning culture. The other cuts corners so blatantly that its biggest offseason acquisition has to pitch through heat exhaustion.

And honestly, what's the end game here? You alienate your players, you become a joke to potential free agents, and you show your fans that ownership cares more about pinching pennies than providing a professional environment... it's just a pattern of behavior at this point. Then again, maybe I'm the crazy one for expecting a billion-dollar sports franchise to function with basic competence.

So This Is How You Run a Circus

When the dust settles, this isn’t a story about a broken air conditioner. It’s a perfect, self-contained little narrative about organizational rot. It’s about a cheap owner, a GM willing to publicly lie to cover for him, and a player who was literally physically harmed by their incompetence. It tells you everything you need to know about why the Angels fail, year after year. They can hire all the `hvac services` they want, but you can't fix a broken culture with a new compressor.