2063.10 – Of Trees and Transactions

[Graham]

The champagne was flat. The chips were all but crumbs.

It was mid-morning on New Year’s Day 2063 and Graham Luna was surveying his condo living room and the aftermath of a modest but surprisingly warm get-together, featuring a few folks from the Johannesburg Gold front office, their plus-ones, and, for some reason, an inflatable flamingo wearing a novelty hat that read "Kiss Me, I'm a Free Agent."

Assistant GM Fernando Rosario had been the life of the party. That is, if the life of the party involves convincing three people to try absinthe while explaining minor league bus seat hierarchy. He’d also somehow managed to knock over Graham’s bonsai tree not once, but twice, while acting out a defensive shift with throw pillows.

Despite the minor destruction, Graham felt good. For the first time in his brief tenure as general manager, things felt…stable. The Winter Meetings had been productive, if not entirely dignified. The Rule 5 Draft, held in the hotel bar during their weekly karaoke night, had delivered at least one arm worth gambling on. Husam bin Shareef, a lanky righty from the Hebrew Hammers system with a lively fastball and developing cutter. After a strong showing in Triple-A, Graham thought he was worth a dart throw and addition to the Gold bullpen.

There were other picks, too. Callum Montgomerie's name had been bandied about in the Gold front office recently, as the Englishman first baseman hit .341 in AAA but had the defensive instincts of a patio umbrella. In addition to convincing Rosario that Montgomerie could be a decent platoon option in the Johannesburg lineup, Graham had also already made it very clear: Callum will never see center field. Ever.

Manny Ortiz, another pitcher from Jerusalem, looked promising on paper but had the body language of someone who wasn’t sure what planet he was on. And then there was Manobu Okumura, who was already on his way back in Tokyo as of that morning. Like many fourth-round karaoke-night picks, his tenure had lasted about as long as a verse of “Don’t Stop Believin’.”

Graham chuckled, remembering the moment London GM Morris Ragland crooned Peggy Lee's "Is That All There Is?" like it was a cry for help. Graham's own rendition of "Paul Revere" by the Beastie Boys had gone surprisingly well, though Rosario’s beatboxing had almost ruptured a speaker.

The real highlight was when Rob McMonigal, General Manager of the BBA’s Yellow Springs Nine, popped into the hotel bar for a nightcap. Unaware of the GBC's Rule 5 Draft being in session, he headed on stage, grabbed the mic and belted out "Teenage Wasteland" like a man haunted by too many international complex prospects.

In the week that followed, Graham had signed Max Dawe to a one-year deal. Dawe, a grizzled vet who racked up 25 saves last year, brought credibility and a chin you could build a franchise around.

They’d also added Jesse Holman, a bat-first catcher with a passable line drive-producing swing, and sinker-baller Cesar Torres, who flashed a sub-3.00 ERA in 30 relief innings over in the BBA this past season.

And two days after Christmas, while most GMs were still recovering from eggnog-related trauma, Graham was in Bogota, Colombia, signing a teenage third baseman named Juan Lozano. The kid was raw, but Graham saw something in his swing mechanics. That, or he was just very tired from the red-eye flight and mistook confidence for talent. Either way, the kid was Gold property now.

The rest of the league had made moves, too. Buenos Aires dropped an eye-watering $40 million on Ira Patterson, the first baseman from Jerusalem. Graham had stared at the news on his phone screen for five straight minutes, unsure whether to be jealous or grateful.

Then there was London, who’d signed a center fielder named Mike Cox. The front office group chat had briefly lit up with twelve juvenile jokes in rapid succession, culminating in Rosario posting a meme that simply read "Protect ya Cox."

Now, as Graham collected empty glasses and tossed party napkins with glittery “HELLO 2063!” lettering, he allowed himself a rare moment of optimism. Preseason was still a month away, but the roster looked respectable. The Rule 5 haul had potential. The team had direction. The front office was gelling.

Even the bonsai looked okay, though Graham noted it had been repositioned slightly. It now leaned at an angle that suggested mild trauma and a strong desire to never see Rosario again.

Graham rinsed out a glass, walked to the window, and looked out at the skyline of Johannesburg. The city was waking up, slowly. So was the GBC.

“New year,” he said quietly. “Let’s make it memorable.”

Behind him, Rosario snored from the couch under a Gold blanket, half a brownie still in his hand.

Graham smiled. The year was already off to a weird, promising start.

[Jwalk100]

Good start. Let's see where this goes.