The Third Floor | Project Turnstile (55.24)
Posted: Mon Jul 31, 2023 1:14 pm
9.06.2055 – Unincorporated Los Angeles County
Stars general manager Alejandro Suárez didn't drop by Alden's office often, or ever, really, so this was an occasion.
“Hey, Alden,” says Alejandro knocking on the door frame to Alden's office. He's carrying a manila folder stuffed with papers. Alden is busy with his reports, the sound of Glen Gould playing Bach's Goldberg Variations can be heard accompanying Alden's own keystrokes.
Alden looks up from his bank of monitors and is a little surprised to see Alejandro standing there.
“I've got something here I want you to take a look at,” says Alejandro as he enters the office, holding the folder out to Alden.
Alden gets up, takes Alejandro's offering, and hefts it in his right hand. He turns it so he can read what is written on the index tab. “Nice name,” he says.
“I want you to take a look at this proposal and run the numbers. Tell me what you think.”
“You want me to run the numbers,” repeats Alden, dubiously.
“Should I put it a different way?” asks Alejandro.
“Might help,” says Alden, putting the folder down on his desk and getting back in his chair.
Alejandro pulls a chair back and sits down. “Right. What you have there on your desk is an initiative designed to increase club revenue in these trying times, and in time grow the club back to what it was a couple years ago. I'd like an evaluation of the near-term strategic risks and returns associated with it.”
Alden turns down the Bach. “I'm used to observing strategic planning from afar. A few months ago I would have suggested you run this past Kimberly, but I guess we don't have a full-time enterprise analyst anymore. Did you consider taking this to Scott?” Scott Wyman is the Stars' chief financial officer.
Alejandro shakes his head. “Have you seen him lately? The guy is about to burn completely out, I swear.” The front office had gone through a round of staff cuts as a result of the starvation budget the club was handed in 2055. Scott had taken on a perhaps unreasonable workload. This, combined with the usual stress of reducing spending by 20% had left the club CFO in a bit of a state.
“And this is the plan to save and rescue us from penury?” asks Alden, not entirely sarcastically.
“I'm giving it a shot,” says Alejandro. “Plan A didn't exactly work out.”
Alden opens the folder and gives the contents a quick glance, saying “you could have sent this as an email attachment, but you knew that.”
“I was hoping we could keep this between us. This is kind of a pet project of mine, something I've been putting together on the side. If I'm completely off-base, well, it doesn't need to be documented, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I do,” says Alden with a smile. “You didn't want to bother Scott with it because you were afraid it might be rubbish.”
“That's one way of putting it.”
Alden flips through the pages of the folder for a few moments, his expression betraying increasing interest. “This is rather bold, calling for new spending at a time like this, but I see where you’re going.”
“We're desperate to increase baseball revenue. This is the way,” says Alejandro pointing to the papers in front of Alden.
“Another way would be to broaden the definition of 'baseball revenue', but I guess that's the players association's fight.” Alden closes the folder. “My first impressions are these. Year one will be doable. We'll have to use some of the seed corn, but this is precisely what it's for. Year two is a corker, and will require the most effort. Years three and four, while no cakewalk, should be manageable if we come out of year two in one piece. I can put together a more thorough evaluation by next Tuesday.”
“So, first impression is that it's doable?” asks Alejandro, as he rises out of the chair.
Alden nods.
“Thanks, Alden. I appreciate your time.”
“Thank, you,” replies Alden, “I think I'm going to enjoy being a part of your little side project. If we can pull this off...”
“Things will be different.”
“Things will certainly be quite different.”
Stars general manager Alejandro Suárez didn't drop by Alden's office often, or ever, really, so this was an occasion.
“Hey, Alden,” says Alejandro knocking on the door frame to Alden's office. He's carrying a manila folder stuffed with papers. Alden is busy with his reports, the sound of Glen Gould playing Bach's Goldberg Variations can be heard accompanying Alden's own keystrokes.
Alden looks up from his bank of monitors and is a little surprised to see Alejandro standing there.
“I've got something here I want you to take a look at,” says Alejandro as he enters the office, holding the folder out to Alden.
Alden gets up, takes Alejandro's offering, and hefts it in his right hand. He turns it so he can read what is written on the index tab. “Nice name,” he says.
“I want you to take a look at this proposal and run the numbers. Tell me what you think.”
“You want me to run the numbers,” repeats Alden, dubiously.
“Should I put it a different way?” asks Alejandro.
“Might help,” says Alden, putting the folder down on his desk and getting back in his chair.
Alejandro pulls a chair back and sits down. “Right. What you have there on your desk is an initiative designed to increase club revenue in these trying times, and in time grow the club back to what it was a couple years ago. I'd like an evaluation of the near-term strategic risks and returns associated with it.”
Alden turns down the Bach. “I'm used to observing strategic planning from afar. A few months ago I would have suggested you run this past Kimberly, but I guess we don't have a full-time enterprise analyst anymore. Did you consider taking this to Scott?” Scott Wyman is the Stars' chief financial officer.
Alejandro shakes his head. “Have you seen him lately? The guy is about to burn completely out, I swear.” The front office had gone through a round of staff cuts as a result of the starvation budget the club was handed in 2055. Scott had taken on a perhaps unreasonable workload. This, combined with the usual stress of reducing spending by 20% had left the club CFO in a bit of a state.
“And this is the plan to save and rescue us from penury?” asks Alden, not entirely sarcastically.
“I'm giving it a shot,” says Alejandro. “Plan A didn't exactly work out.”
Alden opens the folder and gives the contents a quick glance, saying “you could have sent this as an email attachment, but you knew that.”
“I was hoping we could keep this between us. This is kind of a pet project of mine, something I've been putting together on the side. If I'm completely off-base, well, it doesn't need to be documented, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I do,” says Alden with a smile. “You didn't want to bother Scott with it because you were afraid it might be rubbish.”
“That's one way of putting it.”
Alden flips through the pages of the folder for a few moments, his expression betraying increasing interest. “This is rather bold, calling for new spending at a time like this, but I see where you’re going.”
“We're desperate to increase baseball revenue. This is the way,” says Alejandro pointing to the papers in front of Alden.
“Another way would be to broaden the definition of 'baseball revenue', but I guess that's the players association's fight.” Alden closes the folder. “My first impressions are these. Year one will be doable. We'll have to use some of the seed corn, but this is precisely what it's for. Year two is a corker, and will require the most effort. Years three and four, while no cakewalk, should be manageable if we come out of year two in one piece. I can put together a more thorough evaluation by next Tuesday.”
“So, first impression is that it's doable?” asks Alejandro, as he rises out of the chair.
Alden nods.
“Thanks, Alden. I appreciate your time.”
“Thank, you,” replies Alden, “I think I'm going to enjoy being a part of your little side project. If we can pull this off...”
“Things will be different.”
“Things will certainly be quite different.”