Hammer Times 2044 #3- Sort of a Preview
Posted: Sat Sep 05, 2020 3:10 pm
The most popular beer in Israel is called Goldstar. At least, it was the most popular in my office the night four of us gathered around a table strewn with empty bottles and pretty good takeout food, trying to make sense of the Hebrew Hammers roster.
It had been a night for beer-fueled confessions. I had confessed that my resume was a big lie and that I had no experience in running a team. Miriam had confessed that she already knew that, having done an internet search of American baseball and finding no Chico Ruiz except a long-dead infielder. And Chaim had confessed that he wasn’t the assistant GM at all; he was just holding the spot temporarily while my real assistant, a man named Cardenas, was drying out after a bender of record proportions.
The fourth person present seemingly had nothing to confess. He was Terry Jenkins, our manager; a short, wiry guy with a shaved head, who looked like he’d be right at home on the International Space Station. So far, my opinion of him was pretty positive, despite my minor grudge that he, like many other coaches and players, had been hired by Chaim and Miriam without my knowledge. He was, certainly, the ultimate man of few words, which made it hard to argue with him; there simply wasn’t much to latch onto.
“Okay, pitching”, I started. “Villareal and Ito were decent last year for us, and the two guys we got in the dispersal draft, Charlie Simmons and Sherwood West, should be good enough to get by. By the way, doesn’t ‘Sherwood West’ sound like the name of an apartment complex?”
“Mmmph”, was all the reply I got from Jenkins. Tough crowd; I should probably soft-pedal the comedy.
Chaim spoke up. “For the fifth starter, we signed a free agent, Dean Rackham. He pitched several years in the BBA, so that’s a plus”.
“Do good there?” asked Jenkins.
“Let’s just say he pitched several years in the BBA and leave it at that”, replied Chaim.
“For the bullpen” I said, “I think Sutherland is our best bet at closer, even though he’s only 21 and hasn’t really pitched above AA much.”
Jenkins looked at me. “Naah… Triple A… Needs seasoning.” We stared at each other for a long second, then, of course, I backed down. “All righty, triple A it is.” You can’t fight “Naah”… “Terry, what about the lineup?”
“Catcher…Dutton good…1b…Martinez good…3b…Lenoir good…2b…Kodwo maybe…shortstop… weak.” I marveled at his ability to wrap up five positions in ten words. This was going to be a quicker meeting than I thought; maybe he had to pee as badly as I did.
“What about the outfield?” I asked. He shrugged. Amazing. Zero words. I tended to agree, though…
“That just leaves DH… Obviously that’s Backhouse, right?”
“Yep…Good hitter… Couldn’t catch a beach ball.”
“Well I guess that’s it. Now which one of us breaks the bad news to the guys we’ve cut or sent down?”
Miriam smiled. “Why that would be you, Chico. The players need to hear it from the big boss. You can do it bright and early tomorrow. But before you do that, you probably want to clean up this mess. It’s a Hebrew Hammers tradition that the GM takes care of this kind of thing. You’ll find trash bags, gloves and Pine-Sol in the storage closet”, she said as she followed Chaim and Terry out the door.
Somehow, being a GM wasn’t turning out to be as glamorous as I thought…
It had been a night for beer-fueled confessions. I had confessed that my resume was a big lie and that I had no experience in running a team. Miriam had confessed that she already knew that, having done an internet search of American baseball and finding no Chico Ruiz except a long-dead infielder. And Chaim had confessed that he wasn’t the assistant GM at all; he was just holding the spot temporarily while my real assistant, a man named Cardenas, was drying out after a bender of record proportions.
The fourth person present seemingly had nothing to confess. He was Terry Jenkins, our manager; a short, wiry guy with a shaved head, who looked like he’d be right at home on the International Space Station. So far, my opinion of him was pretty positive, despite my minor grudge that he, like many other coaches and players, had been hired by Chaim and Miriam without my knowledge. He was, certainly, the ultimate man of few words, which made it hard to argue with him; there simply wasn’t much to latch onto.
“Okay, pitching”, I started. “Villareal and Ito were decent last year for us, and the two guys we got in the dispersal draft, Charlie Simmons and Sherwood West, should be good enough to get by. By the way, doesn’t ‘Sherwood West’ sound like the name of an apartment complex?”
“Mmmph”, was all the reply I got from Jenkins. Tough crowd; I should probably soft-pedal the comedy.
Chaim spoke up. “For the fifth starter, we signed a free agent, Dean Rackham. He pitched several years in the BBA, so that’s a plus”.
“Do good there?” asked Jenkins.
“Let’s just say he pitched several years in the BBA and leave it at that”, replied Chaim.
“For the bullpen” I said, “I think Sutherland is our best bet at closer, even though he’s only 21 and hasn’t really pitched above AA much.”
Jenkins looked at me. “Naah… Triple A… Needs seasoning.” We stared at each other for a long second, then, of course, I backed down. “All righty, triple A it is.” You can’t fight “Naah”… “Terry, what about the lineup?”
“Catcher…Dutton good…1b…Martinez good…3b…Lenoir good…2b…Kodwo maybe…shortstop… weak.” I marveled at his ability to wrap up five positions in ten words. This was going to be a quicker meeting than I thought; maybe he had to pee as badly as I did.
“What about the outfield?” I asked. He shrugged. Amazing. Zero words. I tended to agree, though…
“That just leaves DH… Obviously that’s Backhouse, right?”
“Yep…Good hitter… Couldn’t catch a beach ball.”
“Well I guess that’s it. Now which one of us breaks the bad news to the guys we’ve cut or sent down?”
Miriam smiled. “Why that would be you, Chico. The players need to hear it from the big boss. You can do it bright and early tomorrow. But before you do that, you probably want to clean up this mess. It’s a Hebrew Hammers tradition that the GM takes care of this kind of thing. You’ll find trash bags, gloves and Pine-Sol in the storage closet”, she said as she followed Chaim and Terry out the door.
Somehow, being a GM wasn’t turning out to be as glamorous as I thought…