Niihama, Japan – November 21, 2031

“Vanni, this is the right move for us. She’s smart, she has a great eye for talent, and most importantly, I never want her working for a team I have to plan against,” Vail stated flatly. Vanni had grown to appreciate the dryness of his honesty, and was growing weary of his GM’s emphatic pleading.

“I hired you because I knew you were the best shot I had at making this team into something great,” Vanni stood from his desk as he spoke and walked toward his humidor cabinet. He approached one of three broad, ceiling height windows that overlooked Oikake Maze – not just the field, but the entire stadium. The Ghosts executive offices, newly refurbished after the disaster in Seto Bay permeated the offices with the nauseating smell of mercaptan, offered a towering view from beyond center field. He paused to enjoy the view as he thumbed the end of a freshly plucked cigar.

“I was sure I had made an excellent decision when I saw this year’s balance sheet,” Vanni continued. “Imagine my surprise when I saw not only that I didn’t have to write a check this year, but there were millions in the general fund!” Vanni genuinely perked up at that last note. “It’s been a long time since this club turned a profit, my boy, and I definitely wasn’t expecting to do so prior to moving to PEBA.” Vanni turned his head to make eye contact and continued, “You had my sincere gratitude and respect, especially considering you did all that while collecting what I’m told is an impressive collection of youth.” As he turned his gaze toward his cigar, he again paused his monologue.

After appearing to consider something deeply as he rolled the cigar between several fingers, he abruptly broke his reverie and reached into his pocket to acquire a cutter. “And yet, here you are, telling me you want to hire my secretary as assistant GM. You want me to triple her salary so you don’t have to do all your work and I have to get a new secretary?”

A nearly imperceptible raise in the pitch of his voice offered the possibility that the question was not rhetorical, but Vail decided not to bank on where the balance of apparent anger and confusion struck. “And here I was thinking hiring a new secretary might be something you’d look forward to,” Vail joked briefly. Vanni gave the idea a chuckle as he clipped the cigar and began the ritual of lighting it. “Listen, in my experience, when there are two strong opinions in one arena, like, say a baseball owner and GM, eventually there will be a disagreement. When those strong opinions are backed by Irish and Italian stubbornness and tempers, it’s a recipe for disaster. I don’t want to be hauled out of here by security, and you don’t want another one of your previous GMs to come replace me and that black type in the ledger. So it behooves us to have a tie breaker. Vanessa will, as she always has, speak her mind. She does her own research and her own thinking. She has been analyzing baseball since she was five years old. This is a no-brainer.”

“So not only am I a stubborn, hot-headed meatball, but I also didn’t realize I had a baseball genius scheduling my lunches while a bunch of incompetents stole my silverware, so to speak?” Vanni stared intently at Vail through puffs of smoke as he lit the cigar slowly.

Vail raised his hands slowly as if being arrested and smiled, “your words.”

“Mick bastard,” Vanni replied and immediately broke character as he belted out a roar. It took him a moment to compose himself, but once he did, he continued, “Of course you can hire her! She’s a daughter to me and I want her here on this floor with us when we finally steal that Rodriguez Cup! Vanessa! Vanessa my dear, come in here! This calls for day drinking!”