65.08 As a Matter of FAX

[Bob Breum]

Bob Breum was sitting at this desk scowling at the current standings. Montreal was 4-7 on the season. They’d played four extra inning games out of eleven and lost three of them. Worst of all, their offense was even more impotent than last season. As a team, they were hitting .204 with a .575 OPS. It was utterly embarrassing.

The phone rang. It was Iván Sandoval, the manager of the Blazers.

“Mr. Breum, didn’t you tell me that we’d be receiving a new pitcher?”

“That’s right, Iván. A young Korean fellow for your bullpen. Hasn’t he showed up? He should be there by now.”

“No, sir. I thought I should call and let you know.”

“Thanks, Iván. I’ll look into it.”

Breum walked over to Haroun Ashraf’s office, his assistant GM.

“Harry, you made that trade with Mexico City for the relief pitcher, right?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Breum. We submitted all the paperwork to the commissioner’s office Tuesday evening. Why? Is something wrong?”

“Iván says they haven’t seen him.”

“Hmm. Let me try calling him. I think I have his number.”

Ashraf picks up his phone and scrolls through his contacts. “Su-chang Ch'on, right?”

“Yes, that’s his name! I was trying to remember it.”

“Okay.” Ashraf puts the phone to his ear. “Hi, this is Haroun Ashraf with the Montreal Blazers. Is this Su-chang Ch'on? Mm-hm. Wait, what? You’re about to leave for Long Beach? That can’t be right. We traded for you a couple of days ago. You’re supposed to be here in Montreal. Your uniform is already hanging in the clubhouse. I’ll get back to you.”

“Boss, who should I call first? Long Beach, Mexico City, or the commissioner’s office?”

“Good Lord! I’ll call the commissioner’s office. You call the teams.”

Breum returns to his office and makes the call.

“Bob Breum for the Commissioner, please.”

Matt Rectenwald came to the phone. “Hi, Bob, what can I help you with today?”

“Commissioner, we sent over a trade the other day, but there seems to be an issue.”

“You mean the Imodian deal with Cape Fear?”

“No, after that. The one with Mexico City.”

“After that? What are you talking about? Your Imodian trade was the last deal this office has processed.”

“Sir, my guy assures me that he sent over the paperwork.”

“How did he send it?”

“The same way as always, I’m sure. Via FAX.”

“Jesus Christ. You must be the last guy in North America who still uses a FAX machine.”

“I don’t trust email. Check your FAX machine. Or should I say, my FAX machine.”

“Well, it’s only fair that you had to procure it for us, since you are the only team that even knows what a FAX machine is.”

“Don’t worry, I bought a whole pallet of them off eBay. We’re set for years to come.”

“Wonderful. Okay, I’m standing next to this antique. Why is this red light blinking?”

“What’s the display say?”

“Check paper.”

“Is it out of paper?”

“How should I know? Who prints things anymore? Martha, do you know how to load paper into this relic?”

A few minutes later … “It’s printing. It must be your deal. Yep. Su-chang Ch'on for Tim Selph?”

“Yes. Would you please call Long Beach and let them know that their waiver claim for Ch’on is invalid?”

“Sure.”

“Maybe have someone check the paper in that thing once in a while?”

“Or maybe you should join the 21st century and email your deals?”

“Goodbye, Commissioner.”

[RonCo]

Ah. I see.

[Trebro]

Always fun to make a story out of a mistake.