Crowding the Plate.

[Chuck V]

Chapter 1: “All the Beer is Gone”

“Could fry a fucking egg on the sidewalk.”
The gentleman uttering that sentence was sweating in the hot Texas sun. Not an uncommon occurrence in mid-July in Austin, TX. Only corpses and rattlesnakes were not.
The man wore khaki linen slacks, a golf shirt with the Austin Shredders logo on the wicking material that never seemed to do its job. In one hand he held a stat sheet, in the other, a rubber ball. He was getting older and the rubber ball was supposed to help stave off the arthritis he knew was slowly creeping into his hands.
He leaned on the batting cage as the team took BP, careful not to get his head too close to the netting in case a foul ball came straight back. Making a rookie mistake like that would be painful to his ego, not mention his noggin. He turned towards the pitching coach, “Remind me again why, with a team ERA of 5.00, I haven’t fired your ass?”
The pitching coach, Thad Jacobsen, never even turned his head as he replied, “Because you know and I know that I am the best pitching coach you know and I also know that if you fire me, you will have to pay the two-and-a-half years and 1.5 million dollars you still owe me on my contract while I sit on a beach somewhere.”, replied Jacobsen, never taking his eyes off the pitcher on the mound throwing a simulated game.
“Damn. Thanks for reminding me. But I am firing you the day before your contract expires just because.”
The silver haired man spit a sunflower seed shell on the ground and turned away from the cage. Chuck Valenches was over 90 years old, but rejuvenation surgery along with a new heart and liver, kept his looks younger than his 96 years. That didn’t mean somebody with a fifty-something body couldn’t get arthritis.
“I know I need to get you better arms Thad. Hell, we used our first pick on Bransington and now he’s on the DL.”
“I know Chuck” replied Jacobsen, still staring ahead at the pitcher on the mound, “Bransington will be alright. You got a steal to get him at number 6, there might be a couple of other arms that develop out of that draft too. They are not easy to come by..”
Valenches clapped the pitching coach on the shoulder and started walking toward the corner of the dugout where his Assistant GM, Derek Mason stood, giving him a slight nod to move their conversation away from curious onlookers.
Chuck moved a little further down the 3B line, away from the press and staff in the dugout. “I can tell by the look on your face, this is not good news.”
Mason, still in playing shape despite actually being in his early fifties, shook his head. “Doesn’t look like it boss. I’m not sure I understand it all, but you better talk to Michelle. Something has her twisted up and she’s pretty upset. I know you didn’t want to be bothered with stadium stuff…”
Yeah, yeah. I’ll go see what she wants.”
Chuck had been promoted from the role of General Manager to President in January, something he really didn’t want because the title came with responsibility for business ops as well. He didn’t really give a shit who cleaned the bathrooms or if the Cookie Monster Mascot costume got cleaned as long as the team made enough money to meet payroll and hopefully spend some money on good players. But, the title also came with a nice bump in salary and he was no stranger to wearing more than one hat, so he had agreed.
Chuck made his way up to the 3rd floor of the stadium offices and to the office of Team Controller, Michelle Garner. Garner still looked a bit like the cheerleader she was at UT, still fit, still possessed of a 100-watt smile. One that was nowhere in evidence at the moment. She sat behind a desk with the sleeves of her blouse rolled up and a pair of reading glasses perched on her nose. She looked up as Chuck knocked on the doorframe. Chuck really did not get involved much in the teams’ finances, but if Derek said Michelle HAD to see him it must be important.
“Derek says you had something for me” said Chuck.
“Yeah. Here. Take a look at these.”
“You’ll have to walk me through this. I don’t really know, or care that much about the beer concession here. I know we get money from Budweiser as the scoreboard sponsor and that if we run out of Lone Star people get butt-hurt.”
Michelle handed over three spreadsheets. “The first sheet is our beer orders from Superior Beverage. The second shows are beer sales from all games up to this last homestand and the Toby Keith Hologram Concert from May 22nd. The third sheet shows beer inventory through this homestand.”
“Okay. It looks like it matches. What’s wrong.”
Michelle handed over a fourth sheet. “I had a pair of guys do a hand count. It took them all weekend. They did it three times, checked every concession stand. We are missing almost 2,000 kegs of beer”
2,000? Are you fucking kidding me? What is that, 10 bucks a beer..” Michelle interrupted him, “It’s 10 bucks a beer, about 145 beers to a keg. It’s over $400,000 in lost product and 2.9 million in lost revenue.”
“Christ, that’s a middle reliever.” Said Chuck. Michelle looked at him with a bit of confusion. “Sorry, I think in player terms.” Valenches shrugged. Okay, so we are missing almost three million in beer, whose fault is it?”
The beer freezers are by the first and third base sides. Concession managers have the keys during games to change keys, but before and after games only Rickie Jeidakis and Will Moubler have them. Along with the Stadium Ops Director, Kyle Willits. And you pay Willits too much money to steal beer. They are the Director and Assistant Director of Concessions respectively. It was his keys I used to get a new count done.

Chuck looked at the inventory and balance sheets in his hands.
“Can I take these?”
“Be my guest, I have it saved.”
“Okay, time to see what Rickie and Will have to say.”

https://vimeo.com/37928696

[RonCo]

Just now reading this.

Totally fun. Including the link.

Caleca worthy, I'd say.

[Trebro]

Absolutely agree, great work! Im a big fan. as you know, of mixing the day to day stuff with some good old fashioned fiction fun!