Pride and Joy

[Ghosts]

Vanessa’s leg shook and bounced so hard that the lone picture frame on her boss’s desk, a simple matte black frame housing a family photo, rattled noisily against the spartan desk surface the GM of the World Champion Niihama-shi Ghosts used to conduct the team’s business. At least, the bits that Vanessa didn’t run herself at her more well-appointed desk across the hall. Since becoming assistant GM, Vanessa had slowly but surely settled into her role. While the specter of imposter syndrome still haunted her, the feeling had abated more than she imagined possible under the shimmer of the Rodriguez Cup.
She had even ordered herself a custom desk – Vanni had encouraged it. More modern that Vanni’s old world mahogany behemoth, and much statelier than Vail’s economy fiberglass desk, Vanessa’s Blanford Rosewood 72 inch Executive Desk cost the team nearly $4,000 USD. “You worth 1,000 of these, my brilliant champion,” Vanni had insisted in heavily accented and slightly slurred English. She made note of the comment for the next time her contract was up for renewal, but happily settled on her choice of desk as she modeled her office into her executive vision.

The rattling brought her awareness to the extent of her excitement, and she consciously caged her eagerness as she awaited Vail’s entrance into his office. Her leg silenced, she directed her ample focus to the family photo. Elias was young in the photo – maybe seven or eight years – but he had that overwhelming grin on his face even then. His features were round and soft like his dad’s but took on the darker features of his mother. A handsome kid, Vanessa smiled, having known him these past five years. She took great joy in the role of Auntie to little Elias – though “little” was relative. The kid was about five feet tall when she met him. He was ten years old at the time, and his joy in being part of a baseball family was as unobscured as the noon sun on a cloudless day. It burst out of every charming smile, blazed out of every gaze over the field or at a passing player or some encased memorabilia. The kid breathed baseball, and his father, rarely reticent, choked in pride. So great was his appreciation for his son that he could barely speak on the topic. It shut him right up, but somehow also opened him. In that bashful silence, delight leaked out of every pore, and Vail was nothing more or less than a humble father, purely grateful and plainly obvious. It was, without question, the aspect of her mentor that most deeply reached her. She was certain she would respect him professionally regardless of it, but it was this fumbling honesty that made her admire him, and that was not an honor she expected to bestow when she first heard of his hiring.

Her rumination abrupted as Vail entered his office. Noting her presence in his chair, he simply went about hanging his rain-damped trench coat. As he dusted it off and placed his umbrella in the little gray bin by the door, he spoke to her in a tone that took her invasion as a matter of course, “I thought with all your fancy new furniture, you might at least reduce the frequency of these little ambushes.” Vanessa brushed his commentary aside, and managed to restrain her renewed enthusiasm again, “Know what day it is?”

“Tuesday?” Vail asked, flatly.

“OSA’s report day!” Vanessa couldn’t help but betray an ounce of her enthusiasm. As Vail looked up, she eagerly rapped her knuckles on a manila folder on his desk. I also took the liberty of sending Gerardo out.

“Oh yeah? Where to?” Vail said, his interest piqued.

Vanessa smiled wryly, and now fully betrayed her enthusiasm, “Sarasota!”

Vail beamed, his grin spreading as far as it could reach, and begged, “Well don’t hold out, what do the reports say?!”

Vanessa tapped violently on the folder and turned her tone to reproach, “They say you’ve been holding out! I quote,” Vanessa announced. “Elias “Jack” Vail has plus-plus,” she paused briefly to cast accusatory eyes at Vail, “contact ability and a very smooth swing that allows him to hit for average. He has plus raw power potential and has the chance to be a run producer. At maturity should have an above average eye. With his talents the light of Vail’s star could be blinding.”


Vail kept his gaze pinned steadily at the cheap, thin carpet of his office as his grin seemed to find new ground to cover as it widened further. “Memorized it already, eh?”

“Your kid is a 5-star prospect!” Vanessa slapped the report. She threw her arms up. “Do you have any idea how expensive it’s going to be to trade for the #1 when he’s eligible? This is a disaster! Also, ‘Jack’?”

Vail grinned a moment more and nodded, before reaching for the reports. “It was his great-grandfather’s name, and his middle name. His Little League coach started calling him that after he started showing some power.” In a flood, the short span of Eli's decade-long love of baseball came flowing over the Ghosts GM. He'd always hoped his son would appreciate baseball, but never expected him to love it the way he did. So when little Eli began to show not only an aptitude, but a fervor for the game, Vail was nearly overwhelmed. As a kid, Vail always hoped to play center field, and so had hoped that he might guide his son's enthusiasm accordingly. Speed never seemed to be his son's strong suit, however, and instead Elias came to enjoy the gamesmanship of catching more than anything else. His coaches encouraged it, as Eli's obsession with the game led to a more advanced understanding that the position demanded. And so his son's relationship with the game became centered around the plate - using his insight into the minds of both hitters and pitchers to excel behind the plate and next to it. And dad, for his part, never even imagined lamenting the lack of a range-y dash across the outfield ending in a sprawling catch, but instead absorbed every little moment his son found within the game and cherished it like it was the last.


Vail sighed, “And a smart GM wouldn’t do such a thing. All those camps and trainers Jack demanded, finally coming back to haunt me.” Vail paused a moment as he reviewed the listings. “At least Kevin will have to pony up first,” Vail said as he tapped his nephew’s #5 prospect ranking. “He’s going to have to pay to draft Tommy. And we’d be stupid to do the same.”

Vanessa chortled, “Shame we’re a couple of dummies.”