January 1, 2045
by Banjo Jackson
Nashville, TN
The Nashville Bluebirds needed to make a splash this offseason to ensure a trip to the playoffs in October 2045, but it seemed like the front office had its phone lines cut because of the quiet free agency period. So it was a little awkward when Miguel Angel 'Swami' Garza was seen getting off a plane at Berry Field. A couple of reporters were at the gates awaiting the arrival of Hank Williams VI from Havana, Cuba as he returned home from a benefit concert to help those affected by Hurricane Theodore. Country music beat writer and Bluebirds fan Tommy Gibson saw the 6’5 ‘Swami’ exit the tarmac away from the crowd surrounding Williams VI. Confused, Gibson pushed himself away from the crowd and went to see why Garza was visiting Nashville of all places.
LHP Miguel Angel 'Swami' Garza
TM: “Swami! Swami! Tommy Gibson with The Tennessean. What brings you to Nashville?!”
S: “Just doing a little house shopping before the season starts”
TM: “A vacation home in Nashville? You a country music fan or something?”
S: “Trying to decide between buying a house or getting a three-year lease on an apartment downtown. Not a big country music fan, but I guess I’ll have to adjust.”
TM: “Isn’t your home in Cuba closer to Pasco than Nashville? I’m assuming you’ll still be in Pasco learning how to throw strikes.”
S: “I actually just signed a three-year deal with the Bluebirds, asshole.”
TM: “Uhh, does Nashville know that? I spoke with GM Chad Nason this morning and he didn’t mention anything. You’re not even Bluebirds material.”
S: “I think they would know better than you. I gotta go, my agent’s calling me.”
*ring ring*Incoming call from agent, Felipe o’ Floppo*ring ring*
S: “Yo, Juan, did we make the right decision?”
FoF: “You already decided on buying a house instead of renting? I knew you’d make the right decision!”
S: “No, I mean about Nashville in general. The first reporter I spoke with is an asshole. He claims Nashville would never sign me and I’m not on the roster.”
FoF: “It’s a done deal. Glad you settled on a house, we’ll get escrow going ASAP. Gotta go!”
*Felipe o’ Floppo frantically dials GM Chad Nason*
CN: “Felipeeeee! Glad you’re alive, man!”
FoF: “You too, amigo. My head is killing me, though. Last night was rough!”
CN: “Told you Tennessee whisky is better than any rum you got! I don’t remember the whole night, though.”
FoF: “Shit, me either. We agreed on a deal for my boy, Swami, right?”
CN: “LMAO, you wish! Maybe he can play in Orlando in our minors.”
FoF: “Oh crap. I told him we agreed to a contract and he’s in Nashville already.”
*Felipe sweats frantically and reaches in his pocket for a napkin to wipe his forehead*
CN : “Ouch bro. I dunno how you’re gonna break that news to him.”
FoF: “Wait a minute! I just pulled out this napkin out of my pocket from last night…it has your signature on it. It’s a contract. Your dumbass signed Swami for 3 years!”
CN: “Bullshit…”
FoF: “It’s even notarized!”
CN: “OMG I thought I dreamt that! Did he at least stop walking so many batters? Is he even recovered from his back to back torn rotator cuff injuries?”
FoF: “Of course. He only walked 65 batters last year.”
CN: “Oh yeah, I’m looking at his stats now…WTF! 65 WALKS…IN 71 INNINGS!?!?!”
FoF: “Whatever. This is a binding contract. Thanks!”
*click*
*Nason leaves voicemail for me*
“Well Banjo, looks like we made that splash you’ve been asking for! We were lucky enough to land Manuel Jesus Garcia. He’s got a GREAT work ethic, I tell ya! He’s got some of the most electric stuff we’ve seen in the league and we just got him these cool thick black rimmed glasses, a new electric haricut, and the number 99 on his jersey. We think him being able to see the catcher’s mitt will help reduce his walks a ton. I feel a championship coming!”
