Phase Two

[Ghosts]

Niihama, Japan - April 17, 2034

The wind and rain battered against the window with a fury, hurling an endless wrath against the high-rise offices of the Niihama-shi Ghosts. GM Dan Vail and Asst GM Vanessa Chambers sat in the small GM office, experiencing the storm as a variable pitch whistle from somewhere within the window’s perimeter seal. Vail banged against the window’s inner edge in a vain and repeated attempt to improve the seal.

“I don’t suppose you’d know who to call to get this shit fixed?” Vail asked as he continued his muted hammering.

“I sure do, but that’s not my lane,” Vanessa replied, sipping from her mug – probably Earl Grey, Vail figured.

“It’s not your lane, agreed,” Vail sighed with defeat, straightening and then hyperextending his back in an attempt to ward off sciatica.

“I’ll have someone take care of it,” Vanessa chuckled.

Vail turned toward Vanessa and crashed into his chair with all the grace of a man in his fifties. He picked up and then flipped a short stack of box scores to her. “Three and goddamn ten. That’s a bitter start,” Vail proffered.

Without picking up the box scores, which of course Vanessa had memorized already, she replied, “Sure is, boss. The offense is sputtering. The pitching is about what it should be. It’s also the second week of the season, so a bit early to react, no?” Another sip of her tea completed her measured response.

Vail smiled and stood, “My thoughts precisely, but it won’t matter to Vanni. He’s a bit pissed that we maxed out the payroll again and we’re still projected to a 5th place finish.”

“I’m not sure we can blame him – it’s one of his more reasonable complaints, wouldn’t you say?” Vanessa answered, leaning back into the office’s second chair, with which she’d become very comfortable. She’d had it replaced last season without Vail even noticing – this model was much more accommodating to her stature than the previous Japanese model.

“No, can’t really blame him. The bats will wake up, at least most of them. But the pitching…I think it’s time to address it en masse,” he said casually, as he unlocked the bottom drawer of his gray metal desk.

Vanessa held her smile in check, not wanting to over-react. They’d been building toward a new age of Niihama baseball since the day Vail arrived in 2031. Was it finally time to launch? “What do you have in mind, boss?”

“Yuji is ready, so is Middleton, for sure,” Vail pulled out a bottle of Basil Hayden 10-year-old bourbon and admired it in the blue gray light of the afternoon storm.

“I concur,” Vanessa replied with a mild grin. Yuji Yamashita was the team’s top choice in the WIL draft after finishing dead two years prior to Vail’s arrival. Ernest Middleton, the team’s AAA closer, was a trade acquisition from the rival Shin Seiki Evas that had pleasantly surprised even Niihama’s scouts over the last few years as he developed. Both were among the best pitchers in AAA last year and likely would have ended last season in the majors with many other organizations. Vail, however, insisted they complete their development before being tasked with taking on the monsters of the Rising Sun.

Pulling out a pair of tumblers wrapped in white linen, Vail inspected them for dust and smudges before apparently deigning them clean. As he torqued the bottle of bourbon open, he continued, “Murakami just about threw a perfect game on Saturday.” He poured several ounces of the amber liquor into a glass before carefully uprighting the bottle again. “I’d say that, along with his other two excellent starts and last season’s results, shows he’s probably ready as well, wouldn’t you say?” Vail offered the glass to Vanessa as he posed the question.

“I absolutely would say that, yes,” she said, holding back her true feelings. She wanted to jump through the ceiling. Murakami was a trade acquisition that required over a year of pursuit to land. Over the winter, he was converted to a starter as the team worked to incorporate a four-seamer into his arsenal. The thought was that he needed that to keep hitters off balance the second and third time through the lineups, as even though his sinker and cutter were plus plus pitches, they were similar enough that hitters with sufficient bat speed would get lucky too often sitting on the break. Vanessa personally oversaw the special coaching group over the winter that taught both Murakami and Anthony MacDonald four-seam fastballs and she was beyond eager to see the results in the majors.

Vail carefully poured the second glass for himself as he continued, “Oh and MacDonald and Lucas have looked too damn good to leave in Namuko.” Vail added a dash extra to his glass, “At least I think so.”

Vanessa Chambers slapped her knee and grabbed her glass as she launched to her feet. She nearly threw the contents of her glass at Vail as she raised it in celebration. They’d waited years and endured far too many losses, but finally, they were going to start throwing their best at the Rising Sun. “To Phase Two!” Vanessa nearly shouted her toast.

“To Phase Two, Ms. Chambers,” Vail smiled and met her glass with a crash that threatened to break the hefty glassware.