Off Topic
Travelblog of Thom S. Hunter
Editor’s Note: Yeah, I know. You skip over this part by now. Or, really, I suppose you skip over the whole of Prospect Beat. It's kind of a piece of crap, isn't it? For those few who are new to it, this is a running blog that will cover minor league players in the Yellow Springs organization. I initiated it because this kid reporter was hired without my knowledge and I needed to do something with him. He’s weird, right? Still, he’s got some hella ties, because try as I might, I can’t fire him. Good luck.
December, 2047: SOMEWHERE IN The SOUTHWEST – So my fascist of an editor called and said I had to do some kind of work or he wasn’t likely to be sending me my next paycheck even if my uncle came down and fired him in person, which totally sucks and was made even worse on accounta when he called I just happened to be in the process of being shaken down by a couple house-sized goons named Calvin and Joaquin, both from the borderside, and both who were inquiring about a certain chunk of change they felt I owed them for betting on a piece of beef disguised as a horse. I was holding my own, though, meaning I’d pretty much stopped bleeding and was in the process of telling them that it was all just an accounting error of some sort. They were taking to that idea about as well as my editor does when I tell him something got lost in the email, and I was thinking a trip to the dentist was going to be in order sooner than later when the call came in. When they heard there was cash on the wing, the goons you know, they made a couple big fists and said I had three days to pay up.
So, technically, I guess the fascist saved my life.
At least there’s that.
To be clear, what I mean now is that he assigned me to spread out what little dirt I could regarding three interesting young pitchers that the Yellow Springs Nine lost in something folks around here call the Rule 5 Draft. I told him he’d have to be more direct, though, because now that I’ve been covering the Nine’s minors for so long, I can report with some degree of certainty that the list of interesting young arms in this organization is about as long as list of the most embarrassing seasons in YS9 history. Never has a team won so often and lost so much, am I right?
Anyway, the bossman shot me a list of guys, so herein lies the roots of all I can really say about them.
Maikn bin Ism’ail: This is a lefty, I’m pretty sure of that, anyway. I was admittedly a little under the weather last I saw him. He’s a 19 year old Iraqi that the Bluebirds took him in the second round of the Rule 5 draft. Imagine that, eh? Second round? I find it hard to believe there’s one round, better yet, too. Then again, they don’t call that place Trashville for nothing. Maybe the kid will stick. I ain’t so sure.
I mean, sure, scouts say the kid is an 8/6/7 as a starter, and maybe a notch up as a bullpen mopper, but his line is all Alamogordo right now, and that spells Rookie League. Sure, it was good Rookie League—the numbers I see say the kid threw a 2.53 ERA in 32 innings under the New Mexico sun. He struck out a buncha R-Ball hitters, and didn’t give up much over the fence, but I have to think the Trashville front office was on some of the better mushrooms when I see bin Ism’ail walked 5.1 R-ball hitters in your average 9-inning span.
Translate much?
In all senses of straight-shooting, I suspect the Nine had plans for the kid, he’s got a serious upside. But I can’t see him being a productive player at the big—league level for probably two or three years best. So, yeah, maybe the Bluebirds will take the hit and let him get beat about for a full season, but my cash (if there’s any left after Calvin and Joaquin come back) is on the idea that he’ll be back in Yellow Springs sooner than later.
Then came the fourth round.
Yeah, I said fourth round.
I get paid by the word, you know, and so telling you that there exist teams who draft on through the fourth round in the Rule 5 draft is pretty good for me at least. Dig it?
Clyde Garrison: Anyway, the Nine lost Clyde Garrison to the Charm City Jimmies in the 4th round. To be fair, I can see Garrison sticking in the bigs. He spent four seasons in Santa Cruz AA ball, and was going to be in Indy this coming year, most likely would have spent a little time in Yellow Springs if the club needed bullpen depth. Or not. Garrison is 23, and pretty much as ready as he’ll ever be. His 2047 numbers (3.38 in 69 innings, 9.1 K/9, 4.4 BB/9) were solid enough, and his career has been workable so far. The kid throws 100, and keeps it mostly in the park. Indise scoops says the Nine were hoping Garrison might run into the Changeup Fairy in the Sky that seems to come by every now and again, but he’s ready and he deserves the chance now.
Without checking the Charm City roster, I’d guess the chances of him sticking with the Jimmies is probably better than 50/50. Not bad for a fourth round Rule 5 pick, eh Joaquin?
And finally, on to the 5th round.
Yeah, right … fifth round (and there’s another thirteen bucks of words right here). Deal with it. (eighteen bucks! Jebbus it’s like I got my own little printing press right here, you know? I feel like Martini behind the cash machine giving out angel wings, but just so much better … I mean … I can feel my teeth taking stronger root in my gums with every word I type. Fly little fingers, fly!)
Ken Park: Charm City struck again, taking another right handed possible swing-man of a pitcher. Park is a 25-year-old, and right-hander who I’d taken a liking to when I first saw him in Silver Springs, and even more last summer in Santa Cruz. His numbers are all over the place, but he’s got a heater that’ll burn the paint off when he’s in the right zone. Generally, though, he just kind of keeps it on the ground and hopes the defense can do things for him. If they do, I could see it working out in Charm City.
Gotta feel good for him, really. At 25 he was looking like a lifer in the minors simply because breaking into the Nine bullpen over the next few seasons is going to be like clawing to the front row at a rave. He’s a good clubhouse guy, though, and that will help too. Some in the organization have considered him almost a coach, and I’ve heard someone question whether that was his real calling, and if so maybe that was the way he’d get into The Show. Either way, I tip my cap toward him and wish him well.
So will he stick? I have no clue, really. I’m sure the Nine would like to have him around. I like Garrison’s chances better than Parks. Maybe the clubs will make deal to arrange Charm City to keep both? Maybe both will stick?
Or not.
Maybe not, anyway.
This leads me to the sixth round, which, mercifully, was served at the bar just as I was finishing this piece and mailing it off.
I hope the fascist’s check deposits before I gotta pay the tab.
December, 2047: SOMEWHERE IN The SOUTHWEST – So my fascist of an editor called and said I had to do some kind of work or he wasn’t likely to be sending me my next paycheck even if my uncle came down and fired him in person, which totally sucks and was made even worse on accounta when he called I just happened to be in the process of being shaken down by a couple house-sized goons named Calvin and Joaquin, both from the borderside, and both who were inquiring about a certain chunk of change they felt I owed them for betting on a piece of beef disguised as a horse. I was holding my own, though, meaning I’d pretty much stopped bleeding and was in the process of telling them that it was all just an accounting error of some sort. They were taking to that idea about as well as my editor does when I tell him something got lost in the email, and I was thinking a trip to the dentist was going to be in order sooner than later when the call came in. When they heard there was cash on the wing, the goons you know, they made a couple big fists and said I had three days to pay up.
So, technically, I guess the fascist saved my life.
At least there’s that.
To be clear, what I mean now is that he assigned me to spread out what little dirt I could regarding three interesting young pitchers that the Yellow Springs Nine lost in something folks around here call the Rule 5 Draft. I told him he’d have to be more direct, though, because now that I’ve been covering the Nine’s minors for so long, I can report with some degree of certainty that the list of interesting young arms in this organization is about as long as list of the most embarrassing seasons in YS9 history. Never has a team won so often and lost so much, am I right?
Anyway, the bossman shot me a list of guys, so herein lies the roots of all I can really say about them.
I mean, sure, scouts say the kid is an 8/6/7 as a starter, and maybe a notch up as a bullpen mopper, but his line is all Alamogordo right now, and that spells Rookie League. Sure, it was good Rookie League—the numbers I see say the kid threw a 2.53 ERA in 32 innings under the New Mexico sun. He struck out a buncha R-Ball hitters, and didn’t give up much over the fence, but I have to think the Trashville front office was on some of the better mushrooms when I see bin Ism’ail walked 5.1 R-ball hitters in your average 9-inning span.
Translate much?
In all senses of straight-shooting, I suspect the Nine had plans for the kid, he’s got a serious upside. But I can’t see him being a productive player at the big—league level for probably two or three years best. So, yeah, maybe the Bluebirds will take the hit and let him get beat about for a full season, but my cash (if there’s any left after Calvin and Joaquin come back) is on the idea that he’ll be back in Yellow Springs sooner than later.
Then came the fourth round.
Yeah, I said fourth round.
I get paid by the word, you know, and so telling you that there exist teams who draft on through the fourth round in the Rule 5 draft is pretty good for me at least. Dig it?
Without checking the Charm City roster, I’d guess the chances of him sticking with the Jimmies is probably better than 50/50. Not bad for a fourth round Rule 5 pick, eh Joaquin?
And finally, on to the 5th round.
Yeah, right … fifth round (and there’s another thirteen bucks of words right here). Deal with it. (eighteen bucks! Jebbus it’s like I got my own little printing press right here, you know? I feel like Martini behind the cash machine giving out angel wings, but just so much better … I mean … I can feel my teeth taking stronger root in my gums with every word I type. Fly little fingers, fly!)
Gotta feel good for him, really. At 25 he was looking like a lifer in the minors simply because breaking into the Nine bullpen over the next few seasons is going to be like clawing to the front row at a rave. He’s a good clubhouse guy, though, and that will help too. Some in the organization have considered him almost a coach, and I’ve heard someone question whether that was his real calling, and if so maybe that was the way he’d get into The Show. Either way, I tip my cap toward him and wish him well.
So will he stick? I have no clue, really. I’m sure the Nine would like to have him around. I like Garrison’s chances better than Parks. Maybe the clubs will make deal to arrange Charm City to keep both? Maybe both will stick?
Or not.
Maybe not, anyway.
This leads me to the sixth round, which, mercifully, was served at the bar just as I was finishing this piece and mailing it off.
I hope the fascist’s check deposits before I gotta pay the tab.
