"No bullshit," said General Manager Shoeless' Assistant, Anton Vogts. "There are several interesting players we are interested in studying."
Shoeless shook his head and began to bring a hand up to rub his face. He hesitated and, instead, reached over to open a side drawer of his desk. "I don't like this, not one bit."
"What are you reaching for?" Vogts quickly pulled a hand into his sport coat.
"Jesus, Vogts. Calm your shit," Shoeless said, pulling a bottle of Absinthe accompanied by a small tumbler from the drawer. "Do you fucking want some?"
"I do not drink."
"Fuck it. Suit yourself." Shoeless poured some of the cloudy green liquid into the glass and swirled it around.
"That is not how you drink that proper."
Shoeless slammed the glass down on his desk, Absinthe spilling over the opened files of draft prospects. "Shit, why don't you get green eyes in here to teach me, then?" He took a good sip and set the glass back down. "I'm sure she's standing just outside my fucking door anyway."
"She is not."
"Bullshit!"
"She is not," Vogts responded. "The doctor does have preferences. Though, no speci ... errr, ballplayer as important as the unicorn."
"So I just get to pick? Like from a list, or ... ?" Shoeless said, throwing his hands up.
"I would like to ask a personal favor."
"Yep. Here it is," Shoeless downed the rest of his drink and began to pour another.
"No. Not like that," Vogts shifted in his chair. "The prior general manager ... well, he worked ... not worked. He helped develop a young prospect. It would be a favor to me and a legacy to our prior general manager to have the young man in our organization."
"I can't do a charity pick in the second round!"
"He has second round talent in this, not good, draft class."
"Who is this charity case?" Shoeless said, pushing his pile of prospect files towards Vogts.
Vogts ignored the files, and, instead, reached down, opened his briefcase, and pulled out a file of his own, handing it to Shoeless.
"Beauregard McBunterson?" Shoeless skimmed through his profile. "Why was he not in the initial pile of prospect files you provided?"
"I wanted to discuss him personally. I did not want you to form opinions without knowing his legacy."
Shoeless grumbled. "Bunting? It says here he ... geez, you had Jude go out to scout him personally?" Shoeless read California Crusader hitting coach, Jude Loughton's report:
- I don't know what to say, really. He's just a freak of nature with bunting. I don't understand it. I mean, seriously, me and the guys took him to a damn putt-putt course after a practice, and, no matter what angle we threw a pitch from, the son-of-a bitch bunted 14 hole-in-ones, along with winning the damn free game at the end. Fourteen hole-in-ones in 18 holes!!! The windmill, #7, BAM, hole-in-one. Through the horse’s legs and banked off a wall, #12, yep, hole-in-one. If I didn't see them myself, I'd never have believed it.
Plus, he can play a manageable second base. I mean, I think he can be developed there. He does work hard. He's fast, quick, and has good instincts. I don't know. His swing isn't half bad, kind of like a weaker, poor man's Dusty Rhodes. Shit, McBunterson may hit one home run his entire career, and that's if he catches a ball square on the good part of his bat in Omaha. Shit, I kind of like the bunting magician from Yazoo City, Mississippi. I grade him as a second round talent if all the good pitching is off the board.
Shoeless looked at Vogts. "Pitching. We needed pitching."
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Sacramento, CA (AP) -- With their second pick in the 2041 Amateur Draft, the California Crusaders selected Beauregard "Bunty" McBunterson, a 5'8", 160 lb., second base prospect from Mississippi. McBunterson slashed .319/.417/.367 in his three high school years with the Texaco Stars. Scouts were in awe of the young man's ability to place bunt singles -- a not-often-used skill at the BBA level.
We'll see, I guess," a subdued General Manager Shoeless said. "I'm just as curious about this bunting wonder as the next guy. Who the hell knows?"
