As I mentioned last week, the last time I reached the 50K word mark during November was in 2012 with a work called Dropped Third Strike. I haven't written a summary yet, but I want to share a bit of it with
you, so here are the first few pages. Please keep in mind it's a rough draft!
Dropped Third Strike
A dropped third strike occurs when the catcher fails
to cleanly catch a pitch which is a third strike (either because the batter
swings and misses it or because the umpire calls it). On a dropped third
strike, the strike is called (and a pitcher gets credited with a strike-out),
but the umpire indicates verbally that the ball was not caught, and does not
call the batter out. If first base is not occupied at the time, the batter can
then attempt to reach first base prior to being tagged or thrown out.
Kate hung up the phone with a sigh and swiveled her chair
halfway around to face away from her desk. She sat up straighter, arching her
back slightly as she tried to work out the tension that had accumulated during
that phone call. Her job put her every move under many microscopes. Currently,
however, it was her lack of movement that was drawing ire from all angles.
She let out
a long breath and looked out the floor-to-ceiling window. Her view was
magnificent – a perfect blanket of white currently covered what was usually
flawlessly manicured grass and crisp reddish dirt. For six months out of the
year, this picture also included dozens of fit, agile young men running,
hitting and throwing. She smiled, perhaps a bit smugly, but deservedly so. Kate
was proud of where she’d gotten, and while the road to being general manager of
the Portland Pioneers hadn’t been easy or altogether pleasant, she believed it
had been worth it.
Portland, a
three-year-old franchise, was one of the newest additions in Major League
Baseball, and Kate was one of the few female general managers in the history of
the game. When her hiring was announced, her gender had garnered her plenty of
criticism in the press and on message boards. Surely, no woman could handle a
man’s sport. There were comments about the trade deadline being too near her
menstrual cycle and her inability to accurately assess talent instead of just a
nice physique. A few tongue-in-cheek positive comments were peppered in as
well. Some speculated that she used her well-toned legs, low-cut blouses and
sparkling green eyes to negotiate a contract that saved the owner a million
here and there. There was no proof to support that theory. Or debunk it.
As she surveyed
the grounds, she smiled. So far, she had
managed to prove most of the naysayers wrong. She had made more smart deals
than bad ones. Sometimes she lamented the few times she’d made a mistake, but
she told herself that every GM had a bad trade once in awhile.
She
couldn’t count the number of times her father, a long-time Mets fan, lamented
the 1971 trade that sent Nolan Ryan, Don Rose, Frank Estrada and Leroy Stanton
to the Angels in exchange for Jim Fregosi. The move did nothing to improve the
Mets’ infield, and Ryan went on to become one of the game’s greatest pitchers.
She also
remembered the shock of seeing Atlanta move Jarrod Saltalamacchia, Elvis
Andrus, Neftali Feliz, Matt Harrison and Beau Jones to Texas in exchange for
Mark Teixeira and Ron Mahay. A few years later, the Rangers went to
back-to-back World Series with three of the players in that trade, and Atlanta
had nothing to show on their side of the deal.
She took
comfort in the fact that her mistakes hadn’t been quite as bad as those, and
the team had not suffered too much in the end. In fact, the Pioneers were
gradually moving out of newbie status and into the realm of being legitimate
contenders. Opponents no longer looked forward to the Portland series as an
easy and automatic sweep. Just last season, her boys had played the role of
spoiler for two teams making late-season runs at the playoffs. Indeed, the
Pioneers were coming along, and it was all because Kate and her colleagues had
made the most of a moderate budget and assembled a fine group of athletes.
Today, none
of these athletes were running around on the field below. It was January after
all so much of the athletic activity was conducted in the facilities two floors
below her offices. Spring training was approaching, so the traffic around the
ballpark had become a bit heavier as athletes began to gear up for a new
season.
Opening Day
was still a few months away, but Kate still felt it was too close. The club’s
hitting coach had resigned just before Thanksgiving, citing family reasons. So
far, only about a dozen applications had come in, and none of them felt right.
Kate didn’t like the thought of hiring someone who was just “OK,” especially
when their club was third in the league for home runs and second in runs scored
during the previous season. Offense was their centerpiece and the only thing
that saved their mediocre pitching. She needed the perfect candidate, but she
was quickly running out of time. The media was on her back, the owner was
calling her daily and the manager stopped by whenever he was in town, which was
becoming more frequent as Opening Day grew closer. All of them were less than
pleased with her answer of, “I haven’t found him yet.” If she didn’t make a
hire in the next few weeks, the players might report to camp without someone to
tweak their timing and adjust their batting stance. And she might find her
employment status hanging by a thread.
She sighed
and turned back to her desk as Bart, the mailroom assistant, strolled in with
the day’s correspondence.
“Looks like
there might be a few more candidates for the hitting coach job, Ms. Marks,”
Bart said. “There are some big envelopes here. I put them on top for you.”
Kate smiled
at the young man in appreciation. Other GMs might have snapped at the college
sophomore for prying, but not Kate. Bart had been a genuine find. His head was
full of baseball knowledge, and not just the generic everyday kind. He knew
more about VORP, OPS and range than most men ten years his senior. Bart had
made no secret about his aspirations to work in Major League Baseball full-time
one day, and while the mailroom was hardly a place to utilize Bart’s knowledge,
he had taken the part-time job just to be around the sport. Recognizing his
value early on, Kate happily worked around Bart’s college schedule to get him
the hours he needed. On top of that, she listened to his insight and let him
have access to information no other mailroom kid in the league probably had.
“Let’s hope
they’re good ones,” Kate said. “We’re running out of time, Bart.”
“I know,”
Bart said. “And the Mariners just hired Stan Beasley this morning.”
Kate
groaned. Beasley had been on her fallback list. Instead, he’d taken a job with
one of their division rivals in the American League West. She couldn’t blame
him. They’d offered the job first while she was still waiting for the perfect
candidate. Beasley hadn’t been perfect, or even great, but he would have been
adequate. She only hoped her hesitation wouldn’t come back to bite them in the
standings.
“Great,”
Kate said. “Well, there’s another name I can cross off the list.”
“Oh well,
he probably wouldn’t have been right anyway,” Bart said. “He enjoys small ball
a little too much for the Pioneers’ style.”
Kate smiled
again. The kid was once again showing off his knowledge.
“That was
my hang-up too,” she said.
“Someone
better will come along,” Bart said.
“Anyway, I need to get moving. I have stats class in an hour. See you
later, Ms. Marks.”
Kate waved
as Bart left her office and continued on his mail route. Mentally crossing her
fingers, she opened the first big envelope. She scanned the résumé – a triple-A
bench coach and former AA player who specialized in outfield defense. Next, she thought. The second one
yielded even less promise. She found no inspiration in the third, fourth or
fifth either. An hour of reading and re-reading was gone, and Kate was no
closer to finding her coach.
Her phone
intercom buzzed, and her secretary said Mr. Scott was on the line. Kate took a
deep breath before answering. She already knew how this call would go.
“Why is it
that the Mariners have a hitting coach now and we don’t?” the team’s owner
barked.
“Beasley
wasn’t right for the Pioneers,” Kate said confidently, or at least that was the
tone she tried to convey.
“The Mariners
have the worst offense in the division, and I’ll be damned if we swap places
with them because you’re waiting for the ‘perfect’ candidate to fall into your
lap,” James Scott snapped.
“I don’t
think that’s possible,” Kate said. “Not with Tanner and Davis coming back.
Those two don’t need a hitting coach to replicate what they did last year.”
Kate knew
throwing out the names of the Pioneers’ all-star middle infielders would help
calm the owner. Justin Tanner and Ian Davis had been two of her earliest signings,
and they had quickly become the cornerstone of the franchise. Their bat speed
and power was rivaled only by their ability to turn at least two fantastic
double plays in every game. She couldn’t count the times their defense had
saved a pitcher from being overworked, to say nothing about the number of runs
they’d driven in. They were the Pioneers’ version of the Bash Brothers and the
most fearsome three-four hitters in the league.
“I suppose
not, but they can’t carry the offense again this year,” Scott said, sounding a
bit less edgy. “And Kensington and Walker still need a lot of work.”
“I know,
sir,” Kate said. “I’ve been monitoring their work in Mexico this winter,
though. Kensington has become a lot more patient at the plate. Walker has
started to drive the ball to the opposite field more often.”
“That’s
promising, but their progress may be for naught if you don’t get someone to
keep them going,” Scott said.
“I know,
and I will find that someone,” Kate said. “I plan to narrow things down later this
week.
The owner
guffawed on the other end of the line. Kate knew she’d made the same statement
a few times since their search began. She had yet to deliver on her word, and
she hated that. Kate prided herself on following through.
“I
promise,” she added, using those two words for the first time.
“You
better,” Scott said. “I’m counting on you, Kate. I didn’t hire you to
dilly-dally around. Pitchers and catchers report in thirty-five days. We have a
mini-camp next week. I expect you to have an announcement before fan fest at
the end of the month.”
Kate
glanced at her calendar. That gave her little more than two weeks. Her stomach
rolled a bit.
“I will,”
she said, reluctantly.
Kate hung
up and slumped in her chair. She wasn’t defeated yet, but she was definitely
feeling the pressure. She supposed she should be thankful she only had one boss
now instead of four or more as she had endured in previous jobs. But that
didn’t do much to ease the pressure on her. Not when you considered the power
her boss had – he could ruin her easily. And not even blink an eye while doing
it. He wasn’t the only one leaning on her either. He was the most vocal, but
certainly there were others waiting to pounce on every failure.
A week
later, Kate had conducted a handful of interviews. The résumés had underwhelmed
her, but the looming deadline usurped her hesitation. She brought in the most
promising from the stack.
Two of the
candidates had been older and had reputable careers. They had each played minor
league ball in their prime and had since managed a few AA teams. They also
shared a confidence in their ability to add to the Pioneers’ offense. Kate
listened patiently as each explained in detail some of the exercises he would
use to improve the hitters’ patience and timing. Their methods sounded good,
but Kate was unmoved by their interviews. They were smart enough and certainly
experienced, but she wasn’t sold. The other three candidates were younger and
completely new to coaching. Their vigor and energy was their main appeal.
After the
last interviewee left, Kate put her face in her hands and let out a long
breath. Over the course of her career, she had never sweated this much over a
hiring. That was saying something. When she came on board, the franchise was
brand new, so she had to start from scratch – hiring a manager and an entire
coaching staff, not to mention assembling a 40-man roster and building a farm
system. She had made good decisions along the way, with many of the faces
staying the same, unless she opted otherwise. Despite all of her success, she
knew her job could be in trouble if she did not make a hire before her
deadline. On top of that, she had to make up for this delay. The candidate she
contracted had to be worth the wait. It had to be someone with a recognizable
name and reputation.
She rubbed
her fingertips from her forehead down to her temples and back up over and over,
racking her brain for a name. She had worked in independent league baseball and
a few minor league offices before landing with the Pioneers, compiling an
extensive contact list along the way. She opened up the contact list on her
e-mail and perused the names. Surely, there was a hitting coach in there
somewhere. Kate hated asking for help. It made her feel vulnerable and out of control,
two things she worked hard not to feel. But desperate times called for
desperate measures. After several moments of simply reading names, she composed
a brief message about her mission and sent it to a few of her most-trusted
former colleagues.
As soon as
the e-mail was sent, she closed down her computer and gathered her things,
anxious for a bit of an early exit. It was nearly five. Even if someone read
her e-mail today, she wasn’t likely to receive a response until the next day.
She might as well take advantage of a full evening. With the hitting coach
search coming down to the wire, she had been putting in a lot of long days.
Those were usually reserved for the trade deadline and post-season meetings,
and they always left her feeling weary.
Regardless,
she intended to hit the gym on the way home to work off a bit of her
frustration as well as some of the winter weight she’d put on - not that anyone
could see it except her.
There
really wasn’t anyone to notice anyway.
Kate was a
bit of a loner – half of that was by design and the other half was a result of
her profession. She worked a lot of long hours and traveled frequently from
February through September. This didn’t leave a lot of time for much of a
social life, let alone a love life. Her field gave her plenty of opportunities
to meet available men – some more desirable than others. Of course, they usually wanted to talk shop
all the time, so their dates ended up feeling like an extended workday. Her well-intentioned
best friend, Sarah, had introduced her to a few men outside of her professional
circle. Unfortunately, the few Kate had actually liked were unprepared for the
rigors of her work schedule. They were looking for marriage and family, and
those things were not on Kate’s immediate agenda.
That hadn’t
always been the case. Although the baseball business had long been her dream,
Kate had once envisioned herself trading wedding rings instead of outfielders.
More than once, actually. Kate had given her heart to the same man twice; and
twice, he’d returned it to her in pieces.
After the
second break, Kate decided she couldn’t go through that again. Not with him or anyone else. It wasn’t worth it. She threw herself
completely into her work, and it had paid off. She had an impressive title and
an equally impressive salary to go along with it. Her profession had not only
allowed her to have nice things, but also the opportunity to meet a lot of
different people and see a lot of places. She was completely happy with her
life, even if most of the people in her life thought she was lying when she
said so.
All four of
her sisters were married, and between them there were nine grandchildren for
her parents to dote on. Still, that hadn’t taken the pressure off of Kate. The
Marks elders were still concerned about their first-born daughter. They didn’t
think it was healthy for her to spend so much time at work and alone, even
though that’s what she claimed to prefer. They wanted to see her happy and
settled, and she seemed so far from that at the moment. Her relationship status
was still among the first things questioned whenever Kate ventured or called
home, which explained why the time between visits and phone calls had grown.
Then there
were Kate’s married and coupled friends. They were even worse than her parents.
On top of the constant queries about who she was dating, there were the
not-so-sly set-ups masked as dinner parties and game nights. Kate accepted the
invites and was never surprised to hear, “oh, [insert name] is here and he’s
single too. You two should talk.” Kate learned to just let it roll off her back
and be friendly. She could have stopped
accepting the invitations, but then when would she see her friends? Her social
time was sparse already, and she wasn’t willing to let it go completely just
because her friends – and their good intentions – couldn’t accept her decision
to be single. She was irritated and angry at first, but after she spent some
time thinking about it, she realized she didn’t really care whether her friends
accepted her choice or not; it only mattered that she accepted it. And she did.
That’s not
to say Kate didn’t sometimes miss the perks of being part of a couple. She
often felt like she was the only single surrounded by couples. Logically, she
knew that wasn’t true, and fortunately, she was too busy to dwell on these
thoughts for long. Her job was demanding
of her time, thoughts and energy. But even at work, she couldn’t escape being
inundated with images of couples. At the ballpark, her gaze was inevitably drawn
to the screen during the “kiss cam” segment. A bit of jealousy surfaced
whenever the focus was a young couple obviously in the early stages of their
relationship. Kate remembered those days, when it seemed like you were the only
two people in the world and the electricity between you would never fizzle. She
was also decidedly touched by the occasional elderly couple caught on the cam
who were clearly as enamored with each other as they were comfortable. She
missed the affection and companionship of a relationship, but not enough to
chance having her heart broken again.
Every time
she started longing for a boyfriend, she reminded herself of the pain that one
man had caused her. She remembered the tears, the countless boxes of tissues,
the sad songs and the ice cream. She recalled the shattered dreams, the broken
promises and the lost sense of hope and self. The longing for a boyfriend
quickly disappeared.
Besides, if
she wanted to maintain and even improve her professional reputation, she needed
to stay focused. A boyfriend would only distract her from her work. She
couldn’t afford a distraction – especially not one as worthless as a man. The
only men she was allowed to focus on were those whose checks she signed – the
players, the managers and the coaches. Those were the relationships that would
benefit her in her mission to build a championship team.
That was
the long-term goal.
The
short-term goal was to hire a hitting coach.
She mulled
over her options and contacts in her head once again as she hit the treadmill
at All-In Fitness. Kate had specifically sought out a 24-hour gym to
accommodate her unconventional work schedule. She preferred to workout before
heading to the office, but occasionally a late meeting or game would keep her
in bed later in the morning. On those nights, she opted for a late-night
workout. They weren’t ideal, but they were necessary. Working out had become a
staple in her life after her break-ups. She’d found them to be a great way to
fight stress and emotional outbursts. If she wore herself out, there wouldn’t
be any energy left to cry herself to sleep. Her workouts were also a good time
to give her brain a break from the business of baseball.
As her
brisk walk turned into a slow jog, Kate plugged her headphones into the treadmill’s
console and looked up at the television in front of her machine. Her feet
pounded against the belt, and the one-liners and laughter of “The Office”
chased work concerns from Kate’s mind. She didn’t have much time to watch TV,
so she didn’t really have many favorites. One of the guys she briefly dated had
mentioned this show a few times. While the relationship obviously hadn’t worked
out, his sense of humor had been one of his most endearing qualities, so Kate
checked the show out one night. She loved it immediately, and since it was only
30 minutes long, Kate had managed to keep up easily.
When the
credits rolled, Kate began flipping through the channels. Unable to find
anything else she could get into, she finally stopped it on the MLB Network.
They were discussing some of the latest moves as teams geared up for spring
training. It might have been a little
too work-related for what was supposed to be off-time, but Kate couldn’t
resist. Even before she’d entered the baseball industry as a professional,
she’d had a hunger for constant information on the sport and the business
behind it. As a GM now, she was always interested to see what her colleagues
were doing. Most of the topics were old news to her, as she’d received calls
and e-mails about various transactions and happenings all day. However, there
was one announcement which consumed mere seconds of the broadcast, but it
literally stopped her in her tracks.
“The Mets
have released one-time top prospect Reid Benjamin. After rising quickly through
the farm system, Benjamin’s stock has been dropping since his debut three years
ago. He hit .250 with 30 walks and 120 strikeouts in his second season as the
starting centerfielder. He also managed 89 RBI, 20 home runs and 40 doubles,
but his inability to play a full season without injury has management moving in
a different direction.”
Kate nearly
fell on her face, her feet stopping as the brief segment started. Fortunately,
she was able to stop the treadmill and find the side rails with her feet before
looking like a klutz in the near-empty gym. For several long moments after the
TV had gone to commercial, Kate’s gaze remained on the screen, letting the name
resonate through her brain – Reid Benjamin.
It was a
name with which she was well-acquainted - even more so than her colleagues, who
had been discussing the power-hitting outfielder with more than passing
interest for years. Scouts had drooled over Reid, the third overall pick in the
2005 draft. Managers begged their GMs to trade large chips for him. Many GMs
had tried to do just that, but the Mets had clung to their prize prospect.
They’d invested millions in him immediately and saw the fruits of their
investment returning as Reid’s raw ability and well-developed skills
materialized on the field. Reid had started in Low A, but found himself in AA
by the end of his first professional season. The following season, he spent
just two weeks in AA before being promoted to AAA. He remained there for a few
seasons, waiting for a call-up. Unfortunately, Reid’s rise was stunted by a
crowd of very talented outfielders already on the big league roster, and none
of them were performing in a way which put their jobs at risk. Several teams continued trying to pry Reid
from the Mets’ organization, but New York wasn’t keen on giving up on their
investment, even if they had no immediate need for his services.
Reid’s big
break came when the Mets’ All-Star right fielder dislocated his shoulder and
strained several muscles on a spectacular diving catch. Facing at least a few
weeks of recovery time and a tough August schedule, the Mets brought Reid up to
the majors. For the first few games, he remained on the bench, but finally the
outcry from the public and, undoubtedly the GM, won out, and Reid made his
much-anticipated major league debut against the division-leading Philadelphia
Phillies. Reid pretty much lived up to his hype in that first game. He went
2-for-4 with a double, one RBI and one fantastic outfield assist to nail a
Phillie trying to get home during a tense eighth inning. He managed to maintain
that performance for the rest of the season, impressing the front office enough
that they traded one of their veteran outfielders for a couple pitchers and let
Reid have a shot at the starting nod.
He earned
the centerfield duties during spring training and was standing in Citi Field on
Opening Day in 2011. Reid’s spectacular September had set the expectations very
high with very little room for the typical rookie growing pains, so when they
inevitably hit, fans grew agitated. At first, the Mets faithful were quiet
about it, merely mumbling when Reid struck out. As the weather grew hotter, so
did the fans’ temperament. Reid was no longer just striking out; he was
flailing at horrible pitches outside the zone. Occasionally, he would have a
good game with a bomb of a home run or timely double, but this success only
further angered the masses, as they got their hopes up about his struggles
ending, only to watch him strike out four times in the next game. The Mets
missed the playoffs that year, and while a team certainly isn’t made of one
player, much of the blame fell on Reid’s shoulders. Fans and local media argued
that the traded player would have made all the difference and that Reid was a
waste of money. While he bounced back a little in 2012 season, Reid was still
the most popular target of message board ire. His extracurricular activities
rivaled his on-field failures, making him the punch line of nearly every bad
Mets joke that was told. His rise had been short-lived, but his fall seemed as
though it would never end.
From a
professional standpoint, Kate was not all that surprised by the news of Reid’s
release. His off-field headlines combined with his declining value and a
saturated outfielder market would likely leave Reid without a job this season.
She actually felt a bit sorry for him, and that sympathy annoyed her. Why
should she feel sorry for Reid? He certainly hadn’t done anything to deserve
it.
Indeed,
Kate knew Reid Benjamin far better than any of those scouts, managers or GMs
ever would. Reid also knew her quite well – in ways she preferred not to think
about. Much to her chagrin, they occasionally snuck up on her. Usually on
nights when she let her mind wander a little too far into the past.
This is not going to be one of those nights,
she thought.
That's just a taste of the story. It becomes a lot more complicated.
P.S. My current NaNoWriMo wordcount is 4,524. Not too shabby after two days.
