But now, with the season over and the league calendar ticking toward the Winter Owners' Meetings, the truth could finally come out.
Gertie hadn’t been wasting money.
She had been unlocking it.
Last year, through a maze of strategic acquisitions and legal loopholes only the most cunning financial minds could even comprehend, she had triggered a hidden clause in the estate of the late shipping magnate, Thurstan T. Abernathy the 3rd. Abernathy, an old eccentric Wolves fan Gertie didn't formally know, had buried a wild stipulation in his will: a $5.4 billion inheritance, to be awarded only to someone who could "demonstrate supreme mastery over capital fluidity and risk management during an arbitrary fiscal period."
In other words: you had to burn money smarter than anyone else alive.
Gertie had done exactly that.
Now, with the $5.4 billion officially transferring into her newly-formed Black Daisy Holdings, Gertie was on the doorstep of her true goal: buying the Madison Wolves.
Negotiations with current Wolves majority owner Ahmed bin Mohammed were already underway. Ahmed, sensing the shifting winds, had agreed to discreet meetings in neutral locations—hotel penthouses, shadowy airport lounges, even once at a closed-down Shotz Stadium suite under the cover of night. Gertie respected him; Ahmed had owned the team for twenty-five years and wasn’t about to hand it off to just anyone. But Gertie wasn’t just anyone.
She made her intentions clear:
- The Wolves would remain in Madison.
- Shotz Stadium would undergo a $300M modernization.
- A new era of aggressive, championship-first baseball was coming.
- And above all: Gertie, not some faceless corporation, would be the face of ownership.
The clock was ticking. Gertie wanted the deal inked before the Winter Owners' Meetings—a strategic masterstroke. Walking into those meetings as the Wolves' new owner would send a shockwave through the league’s establishment, many of whom had spent the last year laughing at her seemingly erratic spending.
Gertie wasn’t reckless.
Gertie wasn’t out of control.
Gertie was playing chess at a level they didn’t even know existed.
And now, the final move was almost ready.
