The Third Floor | Trick or Treat (55.29)

[mragland]

10.29.2055 – Unincorporated Los Angeles County

It's Friday, and Grant is busy trying to decide where he wants to go for dinner, swiping through menus on the screen in front of him, when one of the new guys appears in the doorway to his office.

It's Leroy Plummer, breathing heavily, as if he's been running.

Grant glances over at him. “Hey, Leroy, somebody after you?” he asks.

Leroy shakes his head and takes a moment to gather himself.

Grant decides on Italian, some ossobuco would really hit the spot.

“It's Hines,” says Leroy, adjusting his glasses. “Remember how we wanted to use him as a closer next year?”

Grant's heart sinks. He had tasked Leroy with keeping an eye on the development complex, more so Leroy, a few months out of college, could get a feel for how things operated, than so he could get live updates on player workouts, but this seemed important. Adam Hines, a newly acquired reliever with great potential, had reported to Redwood City for voluntary offseason workouts almost as soon as the Stars' season was over. 'A late autumn injury might not be too bad,' Grant thinks. 'Get him back by May, maybe, if it's not too serious.'

Leroy produces a projection cube and puts it on Grant's desk, aiming it at a blank wall. Grant turns down the lights and shades the windows. The cube projects an image of a bullpen session in progress. The camera is positioned behind and slightly above the catcher. And there's Hines, throwing off the mound. Everything looks normal.

“Is this live?” Grant asks, hopefully.

“No,” replies Leroy, “this is from three hours ago.”

Grant watches, but isn't sure what he's supposed to be watching for. Stars pitching coach Alejandro Ramos comes into view, a man Grant refers to as the Costa Rican Willem Dafoe. Ramos stands behind Hines and a little off to the side in his characteristic pose, arms folded across his chest, head tilted downward slightly, looking directly at the catcher's mitt. There's a big grin on Alejandro's face, like he's the cat that swallowed the canary.

“Here, let me slow it down for you.” Leroy leans over and gives the cube a few light taps.

A pitch comes in. A fastball with pretty good arm-side run. The reading says 98 mph. Grant had heard Hines was throwing a little harder. 'What's the big deal?' he thinks. Another pitch comes in, pretty much the same as the other. And then it hits him. 'Arm-side run. That's not the cutter.'

“He's throwing a four-seamer. A good one! The new guy has a third pitch!” exclaims Grant, who hops out of his chair and does a little jig. “Damnit, Leroy, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Sorry, boss,” says Leroy grinning from ear to ear.

Hines wouldn't be the Stars closer in 2056 because he would be starting, possibly on opening day.

[Jwalk100]

Why are sweating?

I was watching 'Cops'.

[RonCo]

This is very bad news.

Wonder if the green-eyed woman needs a new assignment.