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Berkeley, July 2061
At first, Erenay Hanîminönü thought he was being put through some sort of initiation prank. He'd heard from fellow Turkish players who had made careers of baseball in the States that most teams had something to break the ice with new guys as a way to create a sense of team comradery. He figured that's all it was when Berkeley pitching coach Luis Enríquez instructed several of Erenay's new teammates to tie his throwing arm tight against his body.
But three days later, during another bullpen sessions with the coach, he began to have doubts.
Erenay Hanîminönü
"The lesson is that I only coach lefties." Luis turned his head and spit a loogy full of chew spit onto the dirt. "So I make you into a lefty."
"But I'm mid-90s with my right."
"And you're mid-40s with your left, which is why you need more practice."
"I'm scheduled to pitch tomorrow. In a real game. I can't go out there throwing like this."
"I was told I'd only be coaching lefties this season by the man upstairs, so that's what I'm doing."
"By .. God?"
"What, no." Luis eyed his new pitcher recently promoted from the organization's International Complex with an air of frustration. "I was told by the man in the general manager's office upstairs at the Basilica in Sacramento, that idiot Shoeless."
"He know you call him an idiot?"
"Everybody calls him an idiot."
Erenay shrugged. "Well, if that idiot wants to spend $400k on a righty only to make him throw lefty, so be it." He bent down and picked up the ball the catcher had rolled back to the him, since he had no way of catching it with his right arm still tied to his body.
"So be it," Luis repeated. "You got a damn good changeup, at least."
