Less than a week after shutting his laptop and whispering "not tonight" to the baseball gods, Graham Luna found himself in seat 38B on a red-eye to Johannesburg, sandwiched between a snoring sixth-year senior college rugby player and a woman who insisted her emotional support marmot was legal "in most" of the countries in Africa.
In his carry-on? One bonsai, four USB drives of minor league spray charts from 2033–2052, and a copy of the four-page leaflet titled The Tao of Al Hoot. His checked luggage consisted of an unfolded heap of workout clothes atop his lone, neatly folded suit and two ties. That and six months worth of anxiety medication purchased in Mexico just 24 hours earlier.
He was now the General Manager of the Johannesburg Gold, a team that has been stuck in neutral over its first four seasons in the Global Baseball Consortium. Their rotation had an ERA higher than most Johannesburg elevation points. Their mascot had a 4.5 on TikTok. No, not stars...just total followers.
But hey, Graham had a new job title that made his cousin’s LinkedIn profile look like a slow descent into actuarial hell. And for the first time in years, he wasn’t refreshing a job board with one hand and microwaving leftover chimichangas with the other.
It was at this time he realized his knuckles were white from gripping the plane's seat. And his palms were sweaty from nerves of the whirlwind of what was to come following his touchdown at the O.R. Tambo International Airport. There was the meet-and-great with ownership, introducing himself to his Assistant GM, scouting department and the rest of the front office. And of course, a one-on-one with Gold manager Alberto Sanchez.
As the captain announced descent into Johannesburg, Graham popped two antacids like they were sunflower seeds and tried to remember if he’d ever managed anything more complex than a family group text heading into Thanksgiving. The answer, of course, was no. But that was future Graham’s problem. What mattered now was momentum. Or illusion of momentum. Preferably both.
Somewhere below, the lights of Johannesburg flickered to life. Opportunity? Disaster? The beginning of something? He had no clue.
But the landing gear locked in place and so, ready or not, did Graham Luna.
2063.01 - Hire Power: How a Baseball Nobody Landed the Job of No One’s Dreams
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- Jwalk100
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Re: 2063.01 - Hire Power: How a Baseball Nobody Landed the Job of No One’s Dreams
Anxiety pills bought in Mexico are like convenience store Dick Pills. A good idea at the time of purchase.
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Re: 2063.01 - Hire Power: How a Baseball Nobody Landed the Job of No One’s Dreams
We don’t call him Big Game James for nothing.

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