The Second Floor | Bridgework (63.02)

[mragland]

11.06.2062 – Richmond upon Thames, Greater London

Alastair was able to get through to Taj. The conversation both managed to alleviate fears he already had and to also introduce new ones.

“I spoke with Taj. He has appointed me interim general manager until he can fill the position,” said Alastair. He was in the midst of enjoying a pint (or three) and a bite to eat at the White Swan along with Monarchs manager Jack Gulliver and Jack's bench coach, Max Hatcher. They decided that, owing to the strangeness of the day, a relaxing lunch was in order.

“Great, so we can get started on some of this offseason work,” said Jack in response to Alastair's announcement.

“What was Taj's timetable on the new hire?” asked Max.

“He said that he wanted somebody in place by the Winter Meetings,” replied Alastair. “So, fifteenth of December at the latest, I would think.”

Jack rubbed his hands together. “That gives you the expiring contracts, arbitration hearings, a few weeks of free agency, offseason development programs, and we have a couple of coaching vacancies. Did Taj put any limits on you, or are you really an acting general manager.”

“Taj didn't give me any specific directions, only that I should exercise my own judgment,” said Alastair, who unfolded his tablet and handed it over to Jack.

Jack glanced at Alastair's intended arbitration moves and pending fee agent contract offers. It made for quick reading. Alastair tried to feign nonchalance by looking out the window across the narrow channel of the Thames to Eel Pie Island. It was a grey and brown scene that made one thankful to be enjoying the warmth of the pub.

Jack looked up at Alastair. “This is … you're clearing the decks.”

“Yes,” said Alastair as Jack handed the tablet over to Max. “We should see about six million in savings from those cuts. I'm looking at jettisoning a collectively sub-replacement group of players, at the GBC level, none of whom I feel we should be paying more than league minimum. After three losing seasons in a row, a bit of a shakeup is in order, I think. Did you want to stump for any of the lads?” he asked Jack and Max. “My mind isn't entirely made up.”

Jack and Max looked at each other. Jack spoke first. “No, I can't really argue with this.”

“We have a lot of talent blocked in Victoria. There are some fellows on the Lima squad I'd like to see given a chance as well,” added Max. “Farm system's no good if you never promote the players.”

“And I suppose the new GM will like the roster flexibility,” said Jack, cutting into a sausage. “Though I don't think we should sit out the first weeks of free agency waiting for Taj or whoever to sort out their candidates.”

Alastair nodded. “We should work on filling obvious roster vacancies slash deficiencies, I agree. What do we think those are?”

Jack and Max replied at once.

“Center field,” said Jack.

“Bullpen,” said Max.

“Well, that gives us a place to start,” said Alastair, smiling. “Any thoughts on the coaching vacancies?”

Jack sat back and took a long sip of his bitter before answering. “You're sure to get outbid by BBA clubs for the best coaches, unless you're willing to overpay. Best to promote from within if you have somebody that can do the job. I'm reasonably confident that León Morán can hack it at this level. You'll have to go out and find a good hitting coach, though.”

Max nodded in agreement.

“Alright, sounds like my week is going to be busy,” said Alastair, who could feel the tension in his shoulders ease a bit.