Hawaii GM Jim Walker woke up in his office on the couch with a throbbing headache. What happened? Oh yeah. Too much bourbon and a stressful night of ending business friendships. He rolled off the coach and crawled to the bathroom and laid on the cool tile for what seemed like an eternity and drifted in and out of sleep. He awoke when the janitor entered to clean the rooms. Gabe the janitor said, “Excuse me boss. Didn’t know you were here.”
He began to back out of the room, but Walker said, “No. No. I’m good. Do what you gotta do.”
Walker took out his tooth brush and added a giant glob of paste and began to scrub the alcohol flavors out of his mouth. Gabe emptied the trash and left the room. Then Walker had a light bulb moment.
“Cassie!”, he yelled as toothpaste flew everywhere.
“Ugh, I’m with Bobby right now. It’s Bobby time.”, she explained. “Don’t be graphic, Cas. I’ll do it myself. Enjoy!”, Walker said but regretted it as he gagged.
Walker began a cube search for Zak ‘Hitman Johnson. No agent listed but he can be reached via cube. Walker connected his cube with Johnson’s.
“Johnson Outfitter’s”, was the answer.
“Zak, this is Jim Walker.”
A pause. Then, “Hey, Jim. How’s it going?”
“Good. I’m gonna ask you a question or two.”
“Shoot”, said Johnson.
“You miss the game?”, was question #1.
“I did but now I have a hobby.”, answered Johnson.
“You sure? I have a job right up your alley.” Walker could hear some indecision along with a mouthed discussion with someone.
“What would that job be?”
“Pitching coach in AA Carson City.”
Then a woman’s voice. “Jim, he’ll take it. He’s driving me crazy.”
“Hi, Becky. Tell him to go to the airport and I’ll have a ticket waiting for him with Southwest.”
“Thank god.”, she said in relief then, “You’re a life saver, Jim!”
He hung up and thought, ‘This is going well!’
Next on the list was Ron Shiplack. “Ron, it’s Jim.” Click.
What the hell? He tried again. “Ron, hear me out.”, Walker began.
“Why should I? 11 years then you let me walk.”, grumbled Shiplack.
“Yeah, and the first team you run to is Portland. WTF?”, Walker shot back.
Shiplack chuckled, “Ok, I did. But you’re an asshat.”
“Well, I need you back. I need a hitting coach in Gaylord Rooke ball.”
“Good grief! I hate that place. How long will I be there?”
“Not long will be my bet because I’m trying to shake things up.”
“Ok. I’ll do it. But if you pull any shenanigans.”, he warned.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll have a ticket waiting for you. Southwest.”
“Cool.”
Two down. One to go.
Semih Gurani had just retired from baseball after 16 years with the Hawaii Tropics. He had been released by the Tropics after a lackluster start to the season then caught on with San Fernando after spending a month and a half at home. He never got it going for the Bears after spending a couple of months in AAA Brooks. He put in his retirement papers and went back to Turkey to live in his hometown of Kirklareli.
The last thing he expected was a call from the Tropics. He watched the cube screen glow the familiar green and sunrise yellow of the Tropics colors. Should I answer. The wounds were still fresh for him and he wasn’t sure. Despite his pain, he answered.
“Merhaba, Jim.”
“Merhaba, Semih. How is your family?”
“They are well. How may I be of service?”
“I feel bad about the way things ended for you. It was business during the season but after I feel awful. It is about the people, and the team still needs you. Are you interested in being a pitching coach?”, asked a contrite Walker.
“I would like to teach. Where would I be working?”
“Gaylord with an old friend and teammate. Ron.”
A smile crept on his face remembering his one-time catcher and responded simply. “Yes. I will be there.”
“Ok. We’ll send the company jet for you and your family.”
Things are Aloha again in Hawaii.
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