March 31, 2018.

8:45 AM

[The executive offices of the San Antonio Calzones de Laredo, Laredo, Texas.

Isabel and her mother Rosa exit the elevator and enter the Calzones executive offices on the third floor. As they enter through the large glass doors, emblazened with the Calzones oversize logo, Isabel notices  Calzones GM Matt Higgins pacing slowly back and forth in his corner office.]

“He’s up to something” Isabel whispers to her mother.

“You’re always so suspicious,” Rosa replies to her teenage daughter softly.

“Jackass is probably going to trade someone we need,” Isabel whispers, her eyes narrowing as she looks towards the corner office.

“Behave,” implores her mother Rosa in a soft pleading tone.

“He’s going to sabatoge another season. Another decade….” she whispers, letting her words trail off as she realizes the impact of what she just said.

The pair made it to Isabel’s office, and Rosa followed her daughter in. Normally she would have wished her daughter a good day and continued to her own office. Instead, she closed the door behind them.

“Mija, behave, por favor,” she pleaded softly. “We have great jobs. Just do yours; don’t worry about what Mr.Higgins does. Please?”

Isabel smiled at her mother.

“I will,” she replied, knowing full well she was just saying what her mother wanted to hear. Whatever the Jackass was up to, she needed to stop it. My job, she thought to herself, is to win.

 

Rosa looked lovingly at her daughter.

“Lunch, say 11:30?” Rosa asked her daughter.

“I don’t know, I might be busy” Isabel replied as she looked playfully in the direction of the GM’s office.

“Lunch, 11:30” Rosa said again, this time more sternly, her eyes narrowing to stare at her mischevious daughter.

“Ok, lunch, 11:30. But you’re buying,” Isabel joked.

Rosa opened the door and slowly turned to leave. She saw across the hallway that the Calzones GM was still slowly pacing in his office. She looked back at her daughter.

“Behave,” she whispered to Isabel.

Isabel smiled back at her mother, but her mother wasn’t fooled. She knew her daughter. Rosa rolled her eyes, and prepared herself for the inevitable drama that her daughter would surely bring to the Calzone offices sooner rather than later. She made her way down the hall to her office, where she worked as the Calzones traveling secretary. She had a lot of work to do with the season fast approaching, and her mind quickly shifted from any potential drama to the tasks at hand for the morning.

Back in her office, Isabel situated herself at her desk, and kept a watchful eye on the Calzones GM as he paced and occasionally wandered aimlessly in circles around his office.

Oh yes, Isabel thought, he’s up to something. And I’m not letting him out of my sight.

She pretended to be working at the computer, and she even pulled up some video and compared some of her own scouting notes with those of the Calzones head scout Héctor
Nieves. But she kept one eye down the hallway the entire time.

At about 9:30 am, she decided she needed to let Taizo Sugano, both her boss and Calzones manager, know about her suspicions.

She dialed Taizo’s cell phone.

“Girl, what happen? Getting car wax, Laredo dusty town,” came the voice on the other end.

“He’s up to something,” Isabel replied.

“Something? What something? Need detail.”

“I don’t know; but he has that look.”

“THAT LOOK?” replied Taizo in an alarmed tone.

“Yes, THAT LOOK.”

“Oh dear Mother of God! Taizo on way.” The phone went silent.

Now Isabel needed to warn Duane Rudis, the Calzones director of minor league operations, as well the Calzones head scout, Héctor
Nieves. She looked at the time and texted them: “He has that look.”

Isabel continued watching the GM, who was now staring at the white board on the near wall of his office. She couldn’t see the whiteboard, but she knew it was there.

The first reply came in from Duane.

“THAT LOOK?”

“YES, THAT LOOK,” typed Isabel.

“OH DEAR MOTHER OF GOD, ON MY WAY”

And then 4 more messages from Rudis.

“NO DRAFT PICKS”

“STOP HIM”

“WARN SNOW”

“I’LL NEUTER THAT JACKASS”

Isabel giggled at the last message. But she quickly turned her attention to the task at hand. Whatever Higgins was up to, they were probably running out of time. She needed to see if she could figure it out. She began to formulate a plan.

Another text message arrived, this time from the Calzones Head Scout Hector Nieves.

“THAT LOOK?”

“YES, THAT LOOK.”

“OH, Dios mío!! ON MY WAY”

Isabel made her way down the hall towards the office of the GM. She approached the open door, and stared in the direction of Higgins as she stopped in the doorway.

The GM noticed the girl in the doorway, and looked in her direction.

“Can I help?” asked Isabel.

“Help?” replied the GM.

“Yes, you look distracted today. Anything I can help you with?” replied Isabel.

“I need another starter, another reliever, and one big bat. Have any of those lying around by chance?”

Isabel laughed, brushing off the sarcasm. She entered the room, knowing she would quickly get to the bottom of this.

“Well, we don’t have any of those in the system, so I guess your going to have to make a trade,” Isabel said matter of factly. “Anything in the works?”

“No,” replied the GM, eager to spill his guts, much as Isabel suspected he would. “I can’t even get a deal started because Duane is insistent on keeping ALL the draft picks.”

“We do need a farm system” replied Isabel. “It’s still weak.”

“BAH!!” replied the GM. “We’re three players from contention.”

He stared intently at the young girl.

“I need Duane GONE. Good bye. Out of my hair. Sayanora.” He stood up from the desk and walked to the window. “It takes 5 years to get a draft pick to the majors……I WANT TO WIN NOW!!!”

“That really hasn’t worked out so well the last ten years or so, though, has it?” she replied softly.

“And your point is?” he said mockingly to the young girl.

“My point,” began Isabel, pausing to take a breath, “is that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

Okay, Isabel thought to herself, I failed miserably on the whole hiding the sarcasm thing.

The GM glared at the young girl momentarily, but inside he knew she was right. But no matter, he was on a mission.

“I need a big bat, a starter, and a reliever by Opening Day. In order to do that, I need Duane gone.” The GM paused and looked at the girl. “Any ideas?” he asked her.

“On what?” Isabel replied.

“On Duane” he replied. “How do I get rid of him?”

“Tough one there” replied Isabel, “he works for Snow. You can’t fire him.”

Isabel now realized what the GM was up to, but she was somewhat reassured that whatever he wanted to do, it couldn’t be done as long as Duane was still around.

“There must be a way to get rid of him” replied the GM, and Isabel noted a deliberate tone to the statement. She backed towards the door slowly.

“Your not planning to off him, are you?” she asked warily as she continued to slowly back up.

“Not THAT gone” replied the GM. “Don’t be silly. Just gone from here.”

Isabel breathed a small sigh of relief. She was still sure the GM was somewhat crazy, but at least he wasn’t homicidal. At least he won’t end up on death row, she thought. But sharing a padded cell with Mayberry and wearing a sleevesless jacket was not totally out of the question here either.

“Any other teams looking for a disgraced GM?” she asked, knowing that Duane had been shunned by PEBA owners almost universally after the death of Bill, which led to Duane’s unending search for the answers to a controversy that didn’t even exist to the rest of the world. “Maybe someone will be interested enough to take a chance on him if they have an opening.”

“I could float the rumor” replied the Calzones GM, “that Duane is unhappy here and wants to GM a team again, but I doubt it will go anywhere. And certainly it won’t happen fast enough.”

“Too bad you can’t trade him” replied Isabel as she turned to leave, satisfied that she knew all she needed to know.

“THAT’S IT!!!” Exclaimed the GM. “ I’ll TRADE HIM!!!”

Uh-oh, thought Isabel. He’s serious. She made her way back to her office, and laid her head on the desk. Two thoughts crossed her mind repeatedly. Why did I say that? We’re screwed.  Why did I say that? We’re screwed. Why did I say that? We’re screwed.  It just kept repeating over and over again in her mind.

After lying motionless for a few minutes, Isabel looked at the time. She couldn’t tell Duane what was up, so she needed to distract him. She wrote a quick text and sent it to Duane.

“False Alarm. He ate some bad chorizzo.  But he wanted me to remind you that the minor league pitchers are having their last scheduled workout at Alexander High School starting at 1PM, and he needs some updates on their progress this spring by tomorrow morning.”

Then she quickly typed a second text and sent it to scouting director Nieves.

“This is bad. Lunch, El Pescador, 11:45.”

She then called Taizo and filled him in on what she knew. She told him to also meet at El Pescador for lunch.  All she could do now was wait for lunch. Hopefully they could find a way to save Duane. And save the farm system.

[To be Continued]