The Greatest Debate Ever Pt. 3: The Spring Loaded Loser

[KenH]

Over the course of the two hour “court room debate,” Mr. Streets, bedecked in his barrister’s wig and vintage US Supreme Court robes asked very pointed questions of both sides. Of Hannahs, he asked about his budgetary indiscretions which had recently seen a bump into the positive but had nonetheless been a point of contention for the two sides. Of Mr. Sano, Streets spoke more candidly and directly.

“Noboru, as far as I can tell, you're a manager who has seen over the Farstriders for the past 2 and a half seasons. Your first main season saw the team lose 14 more games than the team should have mathematically lost. This season, you oversaw our star player getting injured in the last game of the season in an otherwise meaningless game. What do you think would have caused this back-to-back failures?"

Sano was silent for a long while before responding. "Baseball is a game that is not easily understood. Decisions that are made over the course of a season are debated endlessly by fans and managers alike. All we can do is try our best to make the best possible decisions for our team and protect our players."

Streets then made a comically grandiose yawn and hit the giant "MUTE" button behind him which, although Sano was still speaking, cut his audio feed.

“This is the third or fourth canned Vince Lombardi-style quote you’ve given us TODAY, Sano! I will tolerate much, but boring answers will NEVER BE TOLERATED!”

More back and forth followed, but the decision seemed well in the offing. As the time ran, murmurs rose from the audience as Streets scoffed at Sano's responses while seemingly taking Hannahs' more seriously, stroking his chin and at times choking up when Hannahs reiterated how much money he made Streets in the past 12 months.

At the end, a giant blinking sign began lowering from the rafters and Streets began to speak. "This has been a well-fought and exciting debate of principles and emotion. I've been impressed with the reasons on both sides, but through all of this, I believe I have sussed out the culprit of the recent Farstrider woes..."

The lights dimmed as a single light shone on Streets. "Ken, you and I go way back. I haven't always agreed with your player acquisition methods or strategies -- in fact when we were hemorrhaging money last year, truth be told, there was a moment where I considered putting out an ad on LinkedIn for a new GM, but you've shown tremendous resilience and have built a team that an owner and fans can feel proud of.

"Noboru, I haven't known you well for as long but I've been impressed with how the players look up to you and appreciate your leadership. The team and organization have been bettered due in no small part to your coaching talent and passion."
At this, Streets typed something onto a hidden screen behind his podium. After finishing, he stepped out from behind and, in true Streetsian flare, began a soliloquy to the gathered assembly.

"Who is to say one way or another? Are these both not MEN? Are they both not caring professionals who want only what is best for my baseball team?" Streets motioned to the two 12-foot blue holograms on either side of him, "one thing that is perfectly clear is that both of these men deserve to be treated with respect and dignity."

"While this has been a debate largely about the decisions of these two men and their respective lackeys, I know that there is also some blame to place at my feet. I have been distracted from my ownerly duties and have largely put the onus on my GM to steer the ship without my presence. Who is to say whether Noboru's statement that he never received final confirmation that van Dam should not throw no matter what? Maybe Ken was too busy -- too stressed -- maybe he had forgotten becuase he was too busy with the 'matters of state' as it were. Perhaps why we're really here... is me."

The crowd gasped. Was this Drew Streets actually having a moment of introspection?

"But obviously no," Streets continued. "This is about them. And for that reason, I am here to judge. And the fault of the diasterous 2032 season falls squarely on the shoulders of..."

He paused here for dramatic effect…

"Coach Sano!"

Streets pointed his finger at Coach Sano. The blue hologram of Coach Sano turned red as his head then popped off like a rock'em'sock'em robot, waving back and forth on a digital spring. Upon seeing this, Sano’s face fell into a grimace. His mumble boomed through the auditorium as his waving head said “I’m far too old for this shit,” and his hologram disappeared with a pop.

Streets’ attention returned to the crowd assembled. “Thank you for attending our special event. Make sure to grab your swag bag on the way out which has the entire price of your tickets recouped through Streets Casino poker chips! Go out there and get lucky!”

With that, the curtains fell and the crowd stood and applauded. A truly once-in-a-lifetime event which showed the showmanship of Streets in all his glory. One for the history books. One day that poor Noboru Sano would care to forget.

Less than a week later, Sano would send his resignation letter to Streets and to the Jacksonville Times. In it, Sano expressed regret that his time in Florida had ended as it had. “I always hoped to win a championship with the Farstriders but unfortunately it wasn’t meant to be. This is clearly a young man’s game and I am not that anymore. If I coached in 2033, I would be celebrating my 70th birthday in a baseball uniform and I’m now sure I don’t want to do that. I’m grateful for my time in baseball, but my time is up. I wish Florida the best in their endeavors, but I am done.”

[Sandgnats]

epic