But not this one.
The San Pedro de Macoris Green Sox clubhouse was one of the … neatest …. spaces that Vitale had ever seen. From the blond wood cubicles with nary a personal hygiene container out of place, to the crisply hung street clothes, to the spotless beige carpeting, to the gleaming shower room, this clubhouse was nothing short of impeccable.
“What the frick is goin’ on here?” Vitale mumbled, as he took a bite of a crisp Williams pear.
He glanced towards the center of the room where a number of the players sat in comfortable chairs grouped in a loose circle, each holding a copy of Chad Harbach’s classic 2011 novel, “The Art of Fielding.”
In the middle of the group, Vitale recognized Green Sox manager Ernesto Garcia, who seemed to be leading a discussion.
“One of the themes Harbach touches on here is how the ripples of one event … in this case a fielding error by a college shortstop … can touch so many lives,” Garcia said.
At the mention of a fielding error, the group of players seemed to shake their heads in unison and grimace in disapproval.
Vitale moved to take another bite of his pear but could feel his grip loosen and the juice-slickened piece of fruit fall from his grasp. In a blur of motion, though, Vitale could see one of the players dart from his chair, dash towards him and extend his right hand to snatch the pear from mid-air, mere inches from the carpet.
The player pulled a napkin from his shirt pocket, wiped down the pear, and handed it back to a startled Vitale.
“Holy crap, man,” Vitale exclaimed. “That was a hell of a grab! Who the hell are you?”
Vinnie "What the Frick is happenin' here?" Vitale
Garcia, who’d paused his discourse, smiled and shook his head.
“That’s just routine stuff for this young man – his name is Gabriel Piñeiro, and he plays the outfield for us, Mr. Vitale.”
Piñeiro nodded as Vitale stood, shaking his head.
“Damndest thing I ever saw,” he said. “Hey don’t let me interrupt – looks like you guys are in the middle of something.”
Garcia nodded. “This is our weekly book club meeting,” he said. “We’ve been reading “The Art of Fielding” and trying to relate it to our experience here in the Angela Drake Short Season league.”
Vitale looked at the group of players, each of them with earnest expressions and a copy of the book open on their laps, and began to back slowly out of the clubhouse.
“Um, yeah,” he said, clutching his newly-wiped down pear as he neared the door. “Well, you guys enjoy your … uh … book club meeting, and I’m gonna get going now … Good luck tonight against, uh, Tortuga.”
***
(Vitale stands slumped against a wall in the corridor outside the clubhouse, and speed dials Chicago General Manager Benny Vitale on his mobile phone.)
Vinnie Vitale: Benny! That you?
Benny Vitale: Yes, Vincent. How are you enjoying your visit to San Pedro?
Vinnie: Well, it’s been good … I mean, they keep winning. They’re 22-3 now … but …
Benny: But what, Vincent?
Vinnie: I just visited the team in the clubhouse and it was … weird as hell!
Benny: In what way, Vincent?
Vinnie: Well, for one thing, it was way too neat. For another thing, they were having a book club meeting. And, for another thing, some kid named Piñeiro came flying across the room and caught a pear I’d dropped before it could even hit the floor.
Benny (laughs): Ah yes! Mr. Piñeiro! Our scouts rate him an 11 fielding center fielder, but a 13 in left!
Vinnie: Say what, now?
Benny: Did you bother to check on the team at all before you left, Vincent?
Vinnie: Well, yeah – the only guys I recognized on the roster were Byrd, the guy we drafted last year, and Dani Santos, the catcher.
Gabriel Piñeiro
Benny: Ah, yes. The dearly departed Mr. Santos …
Vinnie: Dearly departed?
Benny: Yes, I’m afraid we had to release him this morning.
Vinnie: What? Why?
Benny: He does not fit within the parameters of our experiment.
Vinnie: Experiment? What the frick are you talkin’ about, Benedetta?
Benny: Well, our consultants – the Kocherschmeldt Group – suggested that we use our Short A team this season as a testbed to see how a group of ballplayers selected solely for their fielding and running prowess would do over the course of a season.
Vinnie: Huh?
Benny (sighs): If you look at the scouting reports on the Green Sox, you’ll see that no one in the starting lineup is rated lower than a “10” at their positions. And many of them are 11 or better.
Vinnie: But … but, what about hitting?
Benny: Irrelevant, Vincent. For the purposes of this team, irrelevant. Now, it does turn out that some of the young men actually have hit pretty well, but what we’re following intently is their fielding - and how it affects the pitching staff.
Vinnie: You know, this is nuts. Where did Kocher-head come up with this nutty idea?
Benny: It’s hardly nutty, Vincent. The Green Sox are 22-3. They lead the entire league in zone rating and defensive efficiency by wide margins, and they have helped a decidedly underwhelming pitching staff rank first in most of the meaningful statistical categories and no worse than 2nd in the others.
Vinnie: Jesus, Benedetta … who came up with this?
Benny: As I said, the Kocherschmeldt Group made the recommendation after consulting with a rather striking green-eyed member of the Sacramento front office.
Vinnie: Sacramento! Those guys are insane!
Benny: Well, yes. But sometimes, insanity is touched by genius. What a group of players we’ve assembled in San Pedro, Vincent. Players who believe in order on the ball diamond and in life. Players who believe in thrilling improvisation but who stay within tight control. Players who love the finer things, Vincent. Who believe in playing the game the way it should be played.
Vinnie: Uh … you OK there, Benedetta?
Benny: Players who believe in a neat clubhouse, Vincent! Players who do not let wayward fruit touch the carpeting!
Vinnie: Um, yeah. Hey, uh, Benny. I think I’m gonna get going. You uh, you take it easy, OK? Maybe put your feet up, see if you can get some blood flowing towards the ol’ noggin there, OK? Maybe you'll be back on planet Earth by the time I get back.
Benny: Scoff all you like, Vincent. Then look at the standings.
Vinnie: Right. See ya soon, Benny!
(Vitale ends the call. Then, as he hears the ballpark sound system rumble to life with John Coltrane’s “A Love Supreme,” he begins sprinting towards the parking lot and the safety of his rented limo …)
