2062.04 Crisis of Cash and Conscience Part 2
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- Trebro
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2062.04 Crisis of Cash and Conscience Part 2
Jordan looked over the packets again, and picked one at random. It was the one from Ninety Six, North Carolina. It was glossy, almost gaudily so, with little fake Carolina Barbecue stains on the edges and at random places within the brochure. Their population was good, about 2500 people per their report, with an annual growth rate of 1.75 people per year. More if the local Mormon family had twins again. It would put the team near the Flyers, which wasn't ideal, but they were offering a lifetime membership to the Wright Brothers Museum and assurances no one from South Carolina would be involved in the team's move. So a lot of positives.
He was on page three when suddenly, there was a pounding on the door.
"Bo! Let me in! It's me!"
"McMonigal!"
"Jordan!"
Momentarily forgetting the illicit invitations, Jordan ran to the door, unfastening the bolts. He opened the door wide to see his once and future General Manager standing there, smelling slightly like a badly maintained portable toilet and looking like he'd slept in his suit, then ran over it with a car, then slept in it again.
"AM I GLAD TO SEE YOU" they said in unison, then embraced.
"Where have you been?" asked Jordan.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Bo. Let's just say, please don't invite me to any Christmas pageants for a long, long time."
"Wasn't planning on it."
"Good."
"I understand a lot, well, didn't happen while I was gone. I haven't had time to catch up because I wanted to see you first, but I promise you I'll get it all sorted out starting tomorrow morning."
"That's fine." Bo sighed again, and not just because there was an odd, unfortunately familiar brown stain now plastered across his favorite antique Save the Children tie, making several of the children look like they were eaten by the Blob. "It was going to be a transition year anyway. Again." Bo looked down.
"We haven't been very good for a very long time, have we?" asked McMonigal, even though both he and Bo knew the answer.
"No."
"Something has to change."
"It does. I already forced some of it. Edgar Barron is gone, Mac. We couldn't keep trotting him out there. He was down to a .125 average. We had to demote Hannes Schwarzacher as he pushed a six ERA out to the mound."
"Please tell me that's the worst of it." Now McMonigal couldn't make eye contact.
"How can it get worse than you failing on ever single number one draft pick that's still in the organization?" Bo slammed his hand down on his desk, then realized what was on it and tried to deflect McMonigal's attention. "Oh wait, there's Majd bin Nawaf."
"He didn't get better?"
"No. We sent him out for three okay prospects, just to get something back."
McMonigal doubled over, heaving. Bo may as well have thrown a sucker punch.
"Maybe you're better off without me," said McMoniagal, reeling until he found one of the office chairs, which he palmed several times before regaining his balance and sitting down. "I'm a failure as a GM."
"No, you've just had bad luck and a few bad decisions. But we can't keep doing this."
"You're right. I have some great ideas, especially since I've had time to think while I was...away." McMonigal stood up. "Can I use you laptop?" The GM bounded over to Bo's desk, suddenly full of energy, lurching past Jordan before he could intercept him.
McMonigal looked down at the pamphlets.
"Um, Bo...what are those?"
To Be Continued...
He was on page three when suddenly, there was a pounding on the door.
"Bo! Let me in! It's me!"
"McMonigal!"
"Jordan!"
Momentarily forgetting the illicit invitations, Jordan ran to the door, unfastening the bolts. He opened the door wide to see his once and future General Manager standing there, smelling slightly like a badly maintained portable toilet and looking like he'd slept in his suit, then ran over it with a car, then slept in it again.
"AM I GLAD TO SEE YOU" they said in unison, then embraced.
"Where have you been?" asked Jordan.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Bo. Let's just say, please don't invite me to any Christmas pageants for a long, long time."
"Wasn't planning on it."
"Good."
"I understand a lot, well, didn't happen while I was gone. I haven't had time to catch up because I wanted to see you first, but I promise you I'll get it all sorted out starting tomorrow morning."
"That's fine." Bo sighed again, and not just because there was an odd, unfortunately familiar brown stain now plastered across his favorite antique Save the Children tie, making several of the children look like they were eaten by the Blob. "It was going to be a transition year anyway. Again." Bo looked down.
"We haven't been very good for a very long time, have we?" asked McMonigal, even though both he and Bo knew the answer.
"No."
"Something has to change."
"It does. I already forced some of it. Edgar Barron is gone, Mac. We couldn't keep trotting him out there. He was down to a .125 average. We had to demote Hannes Schwarzacher as he pushed a six ERA out to the mound."
"Please tell me that's the worst of it." Now McMonigal couldn't make eye contact.
"How can it get worse than you failing on ever single number one draft pick that's still in the organization?" Bo slammed his hand down on his desk, then realized what was on it and tried to deflect McMonigal's attention. "Oh wait, there's Majd bin Nawaf."
"He didn't get better?"
"No. We sent him out for three okay prospects, just to get something back."
McMonigal doubled over, heaving. Bo may as well have thrown a sucker punch.
"Maybe you're better off without me," said McMoniagal, reeling until he found one of the office chairs, which he palmed several times before regaining his balance and sitting down. "I'm a failure as a GM."
"No, you've just had bad luck and a few bad decisions. But we can't keep doing this."
"You're right. I have some great ideas, especially since I've had time to think while I was...away." McMonigal stood up. "Can I use you laptop?" The GM bounded over to Bo's desk, suddenly full of energy, lurching past Jordan before he could intercept him.
McMonigal looked down at the pamphlets.
"Um, Bo...what are those?"
To Be Continued...
Rob McMonigal
Yellow Springs Nine Sep 2052 - ????
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Narwhal_McClaren
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Re: 2061.04 Crisis of Cash and Conscience Part 2
Ha! Sounds like GM needs to shape up. Bad luck is one thing...but every #1 draft pick is another.
- Trebro
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Re: 2061.04 Crisis of Cash and Conscience Part 2
In fairness, 2053 pickings were a bit slim.Narwhal_McClaren wrote: ↑Wed Jan 22, 2025 8:23 pmHa! Sounds like GM needs to shape up. Bad luck is one thing...but every #1 draft pick is another.
But Barron despite tearing up the minors just crapped the bed in the BBA. Abernathy got hurt and never was the same. That one really bothers me. Schwarz I still think was my best bet, but he's regressed. Comer ended up as a trade chip. So yeah, it's been a little rocky. Hopefully with Hartman, we'll be turning a corner.
Rob McMonigal
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- Krathan
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Re: 2061.04 Crisis of Cash and Conscience Part 2
North Carolina?!
Things are getting interesting.
Things are getting interesting.
Krathan (Nathan)
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- Jwalk100
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Re: 2061.04 Crisis of Cash and Conscience Part 2
Bo really did like their offer...
Rob McMonigal
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Re: 2061.04 Crisis of Cash and Conscience Part 2
In true Southern form, we would gladly welcome you to the Carolinas. I hope you like sugar in your tea.
Woody Donahue
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Re: 2061.04 Crisis of Cash and Conscience Part 2
The North Carolina tourism board seems to have used those FEMA dollars nicely.
trmmilwwi - GM Athens Fighting Centaurs
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